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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Eight (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 5.9k

Warnings; swearing, murder!

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The sun is just beginning to come down now, you can see it from where you’re sitting in the trees on the verge of the beach. A couple of steps and you’ll be out of the brushery, you’re just worried that someone will appear the second you decide that it’s worth it to go fishing or drink a mouthful of salt water.

There’s no water. You’ve wandered around the god forsaken jungle for hours now trying to find something, but there is nothing. It looks like the only water there is to drink, resides right fucking in front of you, but it’s not even drinkable unless you want to die.

You stab the blunt end of the glaive into the dirt again as you watch the waves come over the beach. Makes the sand wet before retreating for a second, then comes right back. You’ve never been to the beach before, District Two might be desert but that doesn’t mean there’s sand and open bodies of water. The only drinking source of water is a lake, and it’s beyond the fence.

Which you also haven’t ever gone past, since you’re a good little citizen. You don’t overstep, you stay in the confines of the fence. Hell, you stay in the confines of your fucking house ‘cause you can’t stand anyone anymore.

Maybe you shouldn’t have volunteered after all. You should have just let Enobaria handle all of this, so you could still live out a perfectly good life in District Two. Who cares if people look at you like you’re a fucking baby? Surely not you, you’ve never really cared…

Well, you have actually. You’ve cared a lot and all of this has proven it to you. Because you came in here to shed old skin, and to bring on new ones. You wanted to take out people for glory in replacement of being the only soft kid to come out of the hunger games. All you wanted was for people to leave you be.

It’s absolutely awful walking around Victor’s Village with the knowledge that people talk shit about you. Honestly, they can’t fucking do that if they have nothing to talk about. Maybe they would have said something over the fact that you went in there willingly, knowing that you’d be killing people, and didn’t bat an eye. But is that so bad, either?

Being seen as ruthless is a compliment, not an insult. You do what you have to do, no matter the consequences. With that thought, you should have killed Finnick anyway, soulmate or not. You’re going to have to do it sooner or later, or maybe someone will get them all before you can get even the jump on it again.

You were in the perfect position to let that arrow go. You wish the shock would have let you. It would have landed in his left peck, near his heart, it would have been a quick death. He wouldn’t have felt anything, really. Possibly the pain of a shot at the doctors office, which is a quick pinch.

Not to mention your soulmate words to him were ‘I should kill you right here’ and his was ‘I wouldn’t if I were you’? You have a sick feeling in your stomach that he’s known this entire goddamn time, since day one of training when he had pissed you off. It was like he knew you were angry before you had a chance to express it.

Cocky motherfucker.

Sighing, you get up and off of the rock that you’re sitting on. You’re going to sweat all the water you had drank before the games, and by the time you bring yourself to get water, you’ll be dehydrated and weak. You’re not going to let the lack of some water be the thing that brings you down, not after everything you’ve been through.

You go out and onto the beach, holding a hand over your eyes as you wander around a little bit, staring at the trees. Every now and then when you think you’ve spotted a coconut, you kick the tree. Coconuts aren’t actually brown and hairy--they’re actually green, like how bananas ripen. Except, they don’t turn yellow, they turn brown.

It’s a couple of minutes of kicking the base of a tree, trying to see through branches that get in the way of seeing the top of some of these palm trees. Right up until you find one with a ton of coconuts. A small smile comes over your face. You set the glaive down on the ground, being sure to re-secure the pocketknife in your boot.

You go to the nearest tree, getting up on the roots, and then a rock as you get up one obstacle at a time. By the time you’re fairly high up and beginning to make the transfer to the palm tree, you spot movement. You drop yourself down onto the branch, holding on tightly as you squint.

One person, it can’t be Finnick and them because you all went pretty deep into the jungle. Your best bet, they’re coming upon the forcefield that shapes the arena pretty quickly, assuming that none of these trees lead to a cliff or something. You wouldn’t know, you didn’t follow them up there and you don’t lack the common sense to put yourself all the way back there, either.

You’d rather stay near the cornucopia. Not because that’s what careers normally hog, it’s because it’s closest to the middle. The gamemakers can’t herd you, if you’re already in the heart of the arena. They’ll always corral the tributes to the middle to fight. You’ve experienced it yourself, and you watched your own tributes have it done to them, too. It’s common sense.

One person then turns into three. You sit up on the branch again, feeling the panic in your stomach subside for the time being. With the roll of your eyes, you continue your journey to the coconuts, which aren’t that far away. You’ll be damned if you’re scared off by Gloss, Cashmere and Brutus. They’re really not that threatening.

You stand up on the branch, noticing how wobbly your legs are. You ignore the distance between you and the ground, as you reach for the tree. You test your chances, shuffling towards the weaker parts of the branch while you place a hand on the tree.

If you’re being honest--which you always are--you could probably kill Cashmere and Gloss without a blink of an eye. You don’t need a few other people to help you take down some pretty faces. Cashmere and Gloss are practically harmless. Sure, they could be considered deadly, but all of you are.

‘But (Y/n), they were trained in the academy! Just like you!’, yeah, and? Cashmere got upset over some comments you made in the tribute parade and basically refused to talk to you after that. She’s like a toddler, the only one that seems to hold some type of brains is her brother, Gloss. And like you’ve said before--basic himbo.

You grab a hold of the first coconut you can reach, it’s fairly big, which is good news for you. Now, to yank it off the tree.

The only really threatening thing they can do is throw knives and swing swords, but everyone can do that nowadays. Even kids with no common sense that come out of districts like eight and ten can do that. It’s one of the first things that kids learn to do in the academy, because it’s like first-grade level stuff. Think of it like math grades or whatever. Each year, a new difficulty.

The only person that you’re even a little afraid of is Brutus, and that’s for obvious reasons. The dude is hundreds of pounds, taller than you are--and you’re fairly tall--and he’s got the muscles of a bodybuilder! Even Gloss doesn’t nearly compare--

You yank too hard, you can feel the one hand that was keeping you balanced up and against the palm tree, leave it. For a second, you’re just lost of footing, and you’re leaning back. The next, fear shoots through your throat and into your brain because you’re in the air. There’s nothing around you but air.

The coconut is above you from when you had thrown it while you were attempting to grab something to keep you from falling. A scream leaves your throat at the realization that it’s a long way down, and you don’t remember where you put the glaive.

One second, you’re flailing like you’ll gain the ability to fly, the next, you’ve hit the ground, the world going black. All the air that had been in your lungs is gone as you struggle to breathe.

There’s a muddy feeling in your head, keeping you from moving while you blink away the spots that are eating away at your vision. You inhale again, but it can’t go in all the way without a stabbing pain in your chest. There’s something wrong with the back of your head, you just know it.

You take a smaller breath, being sure to let it out measuredly instead of letting it go like a balloon that had just gotten freed. As you try to take control of your lungs back, there’s a tingling sensation in your fingers and toes. It’s a good sign, you lift up one foot, and it’s good enough for you to stop, knowing that you’re not paralyzed.

The sound of feet on sand makes you turn your head slowly to see who’s coming. You can’t be surprised that no one had heard you scream. You probably just alerted the entire arena that you had been in a split second of danger. It’s a wonder why your former alliance is coming to your rescue, though.

“If you’re here to kill me--” you have to take in a deeper breath, “--make it quick.”

“What happened?” Gloss asks, he pulls a backpack off of his back unzipping it.

“Why are you half naked?” your face twists.

“It’s hot in here.” Cashmere says, she’s standing over you, “I’m surprised you didn’t also strip, are you trying to die of heatstroke?”

“It’s not that bad.” you tell them, but Cashmere crouches down next to her brother anyway.

“What happened?” Gloss repeats.

You half-heartedly laugh, but stop immediately when there’s a throbbing pain in the back of your head. You groan through your teeth, “Fell from the tree.”

“Trying to avoid us?” Brutus sounds amused.

“No, trying to get a--” you take a breath, “--coconut for water.”

“You didn’t find anything either?” Cashmere sounds upset, “Fuck, the gamemakers suck.”

“It’s a Quarter Quell arena, what did you expect?” Gloss asks her, you watch as he pulls out first aid stuff, “You’re not going to be a hassle, are you?”

“No.” you say.

“Can you move?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to help me.”

Cashmere grabs your right arm, while Gloss grabs the left, pulling you into a sitting position. It feels so much worse now, a pounding headache at the back of your head. And you can swear you feel something trickling down the back of your neck.

“Be honest.” your eyes follow Gloss until he’s gone behind you.

“It’s--” you assume he’s hesitating, until there’s a pain at the back of your head, you hiss out and jerk, which makes it all worse, “--it’s bad. You’re bleeding a lot, and I think we should clean the wound.”

“The only water is salt.” Cashmere makes a face, “Not a pretty feeling.”

“I’m not into pretty things.” you sigh, “Brutus, shed the skin of the coconut until you’re at the brown part, do that on all sides.”

Brutus doesn’t hesitate, he uses his knife to stab and yank the skin. In the meantime, Gloss is doing something behind you. A feeling of lightheadedness comes over you, and you watch as your eyes unfocus and blur.

“Woah--” Gloss grabs your right side, holding you upright.

“Awake, (Y/n).” Cashmere says.

“Why are you guys helping me, anyway?” There’s also a pain in your ribs, it must be the breathing problems that are helping it hurt.

“I’m mostly just curious about what the hell happened.” Brutus says, “They wanted to kill you.”

“Again, join the army, you guys aren’t the first and won’t be the last either.” you sigh, “Long story or short story?”

“Whatever keeps you talking.” Gloss says.

“Well, I made it to the cornucopia first on some miracle. I got to the back looking for my special weapon to find it’s not there. Saw a bow and arrow and thought ‘hey! Why not?’ and turned around to see Finnick standing there.” you pause for a second, pursing your lips, “He said I wouldn’t be able to get him, I shot an arrow over his shoulder and told him that I should kill him right then and there.

“His response was ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you’ or whatever, and just like that...” you reach over for your wetsuit, unhooking your thumb and then yanking the fabric up to show off the tattoo, “Could be a coincidence, but I doubt it. He’s been harassing me the entire time so he must have had a feeling about it or something.

“I decided that I’d try out an alliance with him, girl on fire, loverboy and grandma, but it didn’t work. I punched him and left after he tried to tell me what to do.”

Brutus laughs, “Classic.”

“Me or him?”

“Both.” Gloss says.

They share a chuckle and you spare a smile, knowing that the laughter will most definitely hurt.

“So, how does it feel?” Cashmere asks, she’s still holding you upright by your wrist, “Knowing that your sworn enemy is your soulmate?”

“God awful, I wish I hadn’t volunteered.” you sigh, closing your eyes for a second, “Wish I could say I was surprised, but I’m not. My whole life is a complete joke, so it makes sense. One last curveball before I’m fighting for my life at every corner.”

“You’re doing a great job so far.” Brutus says, and then you watch as he picks up a hefty rock and slams it against the coconut a couple of times until it cracks.

“I don’t expect an alliance from you guys, and honestly, I don’t want one either. I appreciate the help though.” you turn your head a bit to look at Gloss.

He shrugs, a smile on his face, “It’s fun to see you not so high and mighty for once.”

“It won’t last long.” you say, “This is just a temporary set back.”

Brutus gets the coconut open, and he even manages to save some of the water inside. He passes it to you first, since you’re the hurt one, and you did get it off of the palm tree. You pass it to Cashmere after that. Brutus takes a sip on his half and gives it to Gloss next. You guys go back and forth until it’s gone.

It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to make your mouth wet again. You scoop out the white meat of the coconut for the next couple of minutes until it’s only the shell. After that, Brutus is taking trips back and forth with salt-water filled coconut shells to dump on the back of your head.

It stings like a bitch, and Gloss trying to scrape the dried blood away isn’t that much of a help either. However, he gets enough of it away to see the real damage, “It needs stitches.”

“Go ahead.” you tell him.

“I uh--don’t know how.”

You look to Cashmere, and then Gloss to see them shake their heads. Of course they wouldn’t know how to do stitches, and you do. You’re the only person who can do them, and you can’t perform it, because it’s on the back of your head!

You pick up the rock that Brutus had used against the coconut as you throw it as hard as you can into the water, “Fuck it all!”

Your head starts to pound from the pain, and you cover your face, trying to keep yourself from angry-laughing.

“You could teach me?” Gloss suggests.

You’re the only genius in the sea of morons! All of them! Fucking idiots! Had they just taken an hour or two at the first aid station inside of the training center, they might have learned a thing or two about stitches! But no, they just had to show off their skills the entire time you guys were there.

To keep yourself from exploding, you inhale deeply through your nose, “Now’s a good time for a sponsor gift, Neysa.”

“You think she’ll listen to you?” Brutus asks.

“I’m her star-fucking-tribute. If she doesn’t send a gift, I give you full permission to kill me. In fact, I encourage it!” you clench your teeth as you glare at the water.

It’s a couple moments of silence before the chiming of a sponsor gift interrupts it. Brutus looks impressed when he sees it coming towards you guys, and he even reaches up to grab it. He pops the lid and reads the message, “Says ‘not much’.”

“Probably directions on how to apply it,” you tell him, “Thank you, Neysa.”

Brutus passes it off to Gloss. You wait while he squirts the cream into his hands, then applies it to the back of your head. You can almost pinpoint the exact time it starts working. It’s probably the strong stuff that will be highly expensive later in the games. Like blow-your-money expensive. For now, it’s fairly cheap.

You sigh in relief, cracking your neck, “Much better.”

You make Cashmere let you go since you can handle moving. You’ve been sitting here for about an hour, just fucking around. The sun is nearly below the trees, which means you’ve got to find a place to sleep.

“Guess we’ll go.” Cashmere pushes herself back to her feet, “Sure you can survive?”

“I don’t need adult supervision, thanks.”

Gloss helps you to your own feet, “You owe us.”

“What do you want?”

“Coconuts.” Brutus says, you look at him trying to see if he’s serious, and he is.

You deadpan, “That’s funny, I’ll just go back up and do the exact thing that got me hurt in the first place!” you then shake your head at him, “No, you can go fuck yourselves.”

Gloss catches your arm before you can leave, “Then you’re giving us something.”

“Like what?” you ask, not liking the grip he has on your arm, “Want a blood sample? A tuft of my hair? The coconut shells? I don’t have anything.”

“Where were the others?” Cashmere asks, “I’ll settle for that.”

“Up there.” you vaguely point, and then you pinch Gloss’ skin until he lets you go, “But they could have very well moved, I haven’t seen them in hours.”

“Then I guess you’re showing us.”

“Just so I can wander the jungle with you guys? No, you’re crazy.” you say, and then add; “Plus it’s going to be a nightmare in there once the sun settles. Work on it tomorrow, they’ll have to come out of the trees because there’s no water out there that I know of. When they come, ambush them.”

“Four on three?” Brutus asks.

“You’re underestimating yourselves. Katniss and Finnick are the only real fighters.” you don’t dare move from your spot, afraid that if you do, you’ll set them off with the idea that you’re running.

“She’s right.” Gloss says, he’s packing everything back into the backpack, “We should stay at the cornucopia and go after them in the morning.”

“And what do we do with her?” Cashmere asks, her arms are crossed.

“Firstly, leave me the hell alone.” you say, crouching down to grab the medical cream, and then the coconuts, “And then forget I exist entirely, because I’m not coming after you guys while you’re sleeping. There’s three of you, one of me, and I’m injured. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You stand again, looking over them, “Are we cool?”

Brutus nods, “Thanks for nearly killing me earlier.”

“Wish I had, would’ve saved me all of this trouble.” you look over Cashmere and Gloss, “thanks for the help, I’m leaving now.”

You tuck the cream into your other boot, and wander over to the glaive, picking it out of the grass. You look over to them again to see that Cashmere and Gloss are leaving, but Brutus hasn’t budged just yet.

“The spear, so very District Four of you.”

“It’s called a glaive.” you roll your eyes, “Good luck.”

“I can’t promise we won’t kill you if we cross paths again.”

“I’m counting on it.” you point the glaive at him, “And I’m hoping that I’m all better by then.”

“Cockroach.” he smiles.

“Old man.” you mock a smile, and then you turn your back to him.

You head into the jungle directly, you know that they won’t want to follow you in here, whether they’ll admit it or not. It is hell in here, hot, dark, and there’s everything imaginable that you don’t want to deal with. You’re only coming in here to make it harder to find. And also because you can’t fall asleep, not with a concussion like yours.

You look behind yourself occasionally, making sure that they’re not following you for sure. Although, you’d think that if they were following you, you would hear it by now. You don’t think that they’re very quiet trackers, but you don’t know. They just don’t look the type.

You fix your hair, and then you also drop the coconut shells into the sports bra that’s beneath your wetsuit. It’s a comical sight, and you can’t help but to giggle at yourself as you navigate through the jungle. You can feel yourself growing tired with every step, but you continue to go uphill anyway.

You completely lose track of time. It’s not like there was any sunlight in the first place, so the place is basically pitch black. You’re wandering around a hell landscape. Forget all the other arenas you’ve seen tributes in, this is the worst. At least the others you could see where you were stepping because the moonlight was streaming through the trees.

Deciding to call it a night, you toss your glaive next to a tree as well as pull out your fancy, temporary coconut bra. You take it easy, lowering yourself to the ground, and then leaning your head up against the tree. By now, you’re sweating out all your body water, and with your luck, you’re going to die already.

No food, no water, and the back of your head is wrecked. Maybe you could sleep now, since you’ve clearly shown that you still have basic motor functions. But then again, you’re the only one out here. You’ve got no one to watch your back.

You’re probably not the only person in this state of misery. Others probably don’t have water either, and you’re banking on that. You obviously know for a fact that Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus don’t have water. You wonder if they’ve gotten a sponsor just yet.

Just when you close your eyes, music jolts you awake. Your hand flies to the glaive as you look around to see where it’s coming from. It’s the sky, playing The Fallen. With a sigh, you sit back again, watching miserably.

You don’t even get the pleasure of that before there’s chiming. You tear your eyes from The Fallen, still glancing at it every now and then to make sure that you’re keeping track of tributes. You reach into your boot, pulling out the switchblade as you mark the tributes on your arms.

District Five male, male morphling, Woof, Cecelia…

You get up, reaching for the new sponsor gift, hoping that it’s water. You’re a little surprised that you’re getting a second one already.

After Cecelia comes both from District Nine, then the girl from ten--the one you killed--and then Seeder from eleven. You mark the tributes on your arm, and the number comes out to be eight. There are sixteen tributes left in the arena. Not too bad for the first day.

A good amount of people got knocked off in the bloodbath. You’re actually fairly surprised that it was that high in the first place. Considering you’re all victors and you should be smarter than to run into the middle, but whatever. Not everyone can be the brightest student in school.

You pop the lid to the gift quickly while there’s still light. You pull out the paper, fumbling to read it since your hands are so shaky.

Walk left - N.

You look up, turning your head in the direction. Obviously there’s something over there that she wants you to see… maybe water?

You sigh, moving your hand out of the way to see what she’s gifted you--a canteen! A laugh bubbles out of your throat as you’re submerged back into darkness. You leave the coconut shells, but place the canteen around your neck. You place everything back where it came from. The pocket knife into your right boot, and the glaive into your hands.

You don’t know how far she wants you to walk, but you’ll do your best with what you can. You use the glaive as a walking stick, and you notice that the moon does start to get through the trees, making it much easier to see. You almost can’t help the smile that comes over your face.

While you’re walking, you notice something rattling inside of the canteen. So, while you walk, you shake it back and forth to see if you’re hearing things. You aren’t, there’s definitely something in there. You uncap the tin, tip it upside down while holding out your hand. Lo and behold, a little plastic bag.

You stop walking, squinting at what’s in your hand now. You tilt it so the light catches it just right to read the label. Iodine. You put the package back inside of the canteen, promising that you’ll remember that it’s there when you do find the water. Just so you don’t fill it up, and forget that it’s in there until you’re choking on it.

You wish that you’d be able to just sit down and relax finally. You’re exhausted and you feel like you’re not even walking in the right direction anymore.

Then, you get a peek of someone through the trees, making you stop. You squint, eyes going over the person, until it turns into people.

“Finnick?” you ask, he whips around almost like he’s in a cartoon.

Katniss pulls out an arrow, aiming in the complete wrong direction. They probably can’t see you.

“Promise not to shoot me if I come out?” you muse, but don’t wait for an answer.

Finnick stares at you with an open mouth, before he’s rushing over towards you. You want to kick him the second he opens his arms for a hug, but you just let it happen. He squeezes you tightly, which is when you instinctively punch him to keep your ribs and lungs from aching again.

“Ouch!” you complain, “Not so tight.”

Finnick backs up, “Was it you who screamed?”

“Fell out a tree and nearly killed myself.” you laugh, “Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus don’t know how to do stitches, so the back of my head is still pretty open.”

“Let me see?” Finnick asks.

You shrug, “Sure, whatever. Tell me you’ve got water, though.”

“You’re in luck.” Peeta says.

You pull the canteen out from around your head, uncap the canteen and dump the iodine into your hand. Then, you hold it out to Peeta, “Fill it.”

Peeta smiles a little bit, taking it from your hands, and then walking away. Katniss eyes you warily, you can’t even see where Mags is. But she’s still alive, since she wasn’t on The Fallen and there hasn’t been any cannons either.

Finnick sits you down, and while he’s digging through your hair like a monkey, you pull out the healing cream.

“It doesn’t look that bad.” Finnick sounds puzzled.

“It’s because of this magic healing cream that I was also sponsored with.” you hold it up for him, “Reapply, but don’t use too much.”

Finnick laughs, taking it from you, “Sure!”

It’s quiet between all of you while he carefully applies the cream. He’s much more gentle than Gloss was. Gloss seems to misunderstand the fact that he’s giant, he’s got bigger hands, and therefore he’s going to be rougher when it comes to some things.

“I’m waiting.” Finnick is the first to break the silence, Peeta hasn’t come back just yet with the water.

You purse your lips, “For another apology?”

“Precisely.”

“I meant what I said.” you tell him, “And actually, what I did too.”

“You don’t need me?” Finnick asks just as Peeta comes over.

You have a feeling of what he’s going to do, and you’re right. Finnick pushes himself up and goes over to Peeta, taking the canteen from his hands. Peeta’s clearly confused on what’s going on.

Finnick holds the canteen up, “You don’t need me?” he repeats.

The annoyance is an immediate spike, and you don’t know if it’s from you, or from him, or both. You stare at him as you tuck the cream back into your boot, and then cross your arms as you don’t say anything. Almost like a child getting lectured, but really you’re waiting for the part where he gets over himself.

“You’re gonna hold my canteen hostage as a point?” you ask, holding out your hand again, “Come on, Finnick, use your brain for a second.”

“No.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face as you get up to meet him, “Finnick, what part of ‘self sustaining’, do you not understand?” You hold your hand out and press down your fingers as you go, “I don’t need you. I don’t need mentors. I don’t need anyone back home. However, there’s a difference between needing people, and needing help. I need your help, but I don’t need you. Do you get it now?”

It takes a moment until Finnick finally gives it over. You hold it up in a ‘cheers’ motion. Then, you take a sip of the water. The second that you swish it in your mouth, you know how thirsty you are. You take another couple of gulps, holding up your finger to Finnick while you close your eyes.

Neysa was good for sending you over here. She clearly knew that Finnick had water, and she might have even talked to Haymitch to make sure that it was okay for you to get here. You wonder who was gifted it, Finnick or Katniss?

There’s about a quarter of the water left by the time you’re done drinking. You lean over, feeling slightly lightheaded and sick. The water that they gave you is likely fine if they told you not to purify it or anything. You think it might be because of the fact that you’ve drank so much after being devoid of it for so long.

Despite this, you straighten up again, “Do you want me to stay or do you want me to go? It’s all up to you guys.”

You lean against the tree to keep yourself upright. You watch as Finnick turns to Katniss and Peeta. They speak quietly enough to the point where you can’t catch a single thing. You’d be mad if it weren’t for the fact that you can’t get mad. They were here first, if they don’t want you here, then you’d have to go.

It’s not like you’d be super bothered, you’d probably just go back the way you came. And if they really want to, you guys could just meet up at the beach later. Unless they’re completely throwing the idea out of the window.

At this point, you’re not really sure if you care. If they can afford it, you’ll take some more water. Maybe go hunting, catch some sort of animal or mutt that they have in here--although, you haven’t seen anything since you’ve wandered in here hours ago. If that doesn’t work out, you’ll go back to the palm trees with coconuts for the white meat inside.

Only, you’ll be careful that time around, because you’ll definitely die if you take a fall like that again. You’re lucky you didn’t end up any worse than you are. The back of your head had split open, your lungs won’t take in all the air, your ribs hurt painfully from landing on your back.

Finnick turns to you with a twisted face, you already know the answer.

“Hey, no harm done,” you hold up the canteen, “Is it possible to get a refill?”

“Yeah, come with me?”

“Last time we talked in private I hit you,” you pause, and then add; “rightfully so, but nonetheless.”

You follow Finnick on his way over to a tree. You’re about to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, until you hear the faint sound of running water. He goes up to the tree, and holds the open mouth of the canteen underneath what looks like a spigot.

“Huh.” you tilt your head, moving in closer, “That’s cool, did your mentors send you that?”

It seems like a tool that only District Four knows about, but Finnick shakes his head, “No, Haymitch sent it. Listen, they don’t trust you.”

“You act as if this is a surprise.” you tell him, “No one trusts me, much less likes me. I’m not hurt over the fact that they don’t want me around them.”

Finnick gives you a look, “Don’t you ever get tired of being such a bitch?”

“Don’t you get tired of trying to corral people who don’t want to be corralled?” you ask back, “Also, not to mention--isn’t it a bit weird that you’re trying to pursue me when you’re still dating Annie? Imagine what she’s feeling right now while you’re trying to get me to like you. If I were her, I’d be pissed.”

You pick at your nails slightly, you’d wanted to point that out the entire time, but knew you’d probably have to save it until you’re not in front of three other people. It’s a better thing to bring up in private, you’re not deprived of social cues.

Finnick gives you a look, “I don’t know how you can be so unlikable and likable at the same time.”

“It’s my stunning personality.” you say.

Finnick then caps the canteen, handing the bottle back to you.

“Don’t be so heartbroken, we can meet up at the beach tomorrow.” you put the canteen over your shoulder, “Unless you don’t want to, I don’t care.”

“Sure, I’ll aim for the afternoon.”

“Sounds good to me.” you and him head back to everyone, you give a slight wave, “This isn’t a final goodbye, you guys are probably going to see me later. Stay safe.”

You pick up the glaive, give a final look to Finnick, and then head back in the direction you came.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter eight

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Sixteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 8.8k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“You’re still sure you want to do this?” Finnick asks, you give him a look.

“If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. Feel free to join Katniss’ star squad.” you snort at the name of it, “Boggs already made us the offer and said we can change our minds at any time up until we leave.”

“I remember.” Finnick says, he grips his shiny, new trident in his hand tightly, before deciding that he might as well strap it to his body so he’s not carrying it around everywhere, “I just thought you might want to back out is all.”

You roll your eyes, “The day I back out of anything, is the day I’m a coward.”

“I’m Commander Paylor of District Eight.” Paylor begins, Finnick’s head immediately snaps up to see her, you practically already have Paylor’s speech memorized, “I’m a soldier like all of you so, here’s what I know. For the first time in our lifetimes, we’re standing together with thirteen districts. From what I see here, we’ve already made history.”

The clapping starts first, the cheering is a second behind. There’s a shitload of people here. No only in the streets, but on the rooftops too. Volunteers from every district have been flown in, leading up to this moment. What you did yesterday, really opened up a ton of opportunities.

“But history doesn’t stop to celebrate, and we’re facing an enemy that will not change and will never surrender. President Snow has pulled back peacekeepers to fortify the center of the city. He’s evacuating residents from outer blocks, these civilians will be confused and desperate. You are under orders not to target them.”

Paylor motions to the crowd, “We’re deploying medical brigades to help anyone in need. We’ll show the Capitol people who we are.” she motions to the live screen behind her of a map, “To slow our advance, President Snow is building a minefield of traps and lethal devices called ‘pods’. The sadistic inventions of gamemakers meant to make sport of our deaths.

“If our armies make it past peacekeepers and other defenses, we’ll converge in the center of the city at Snow’s mansion, where we won’t just unlock his gates, but unshackle all of Panem.” The crowd cheers again, “If we die, let it be for a cause and not a spectacle. If we succeed, let it be for all of panem, and let it be forever.

“Yes, you’ve already made history. But the future--our future--starts tomorrow at dawn, when we march together into the Capitol.”

The cheering resumes, and you give a quick glance to Katniss and Gale, curious to see how they’re taking all of this. Gale came into District Two a little after you had left--he was on a hovercraft full of volunteers--and Katniss came over this morning as a stowaway on another volunteer hovercraft.

She’s been insisting to help this entire time, not wanting to sit back. However, she’s going to be in for a nasty surprise when she realizes that she’s the top priority. Her squad is going to do anything to keep her safe--which is exactly why you’ve decided not to join the star squad.

You’ve already had the misfortune of being in on protecting her once, and that was enough for you. You might not have known every single detail, but the intentions were pretty clear. You’re just surprised that it took so long for Katniss to realize that she was the priority.

Also, the problem with the star squad is that they’re not front lines. Katniss can’t be killed, otherwise the revolution dies or whatever. So, Boggs told you that they’re going to give the volunteers a head start, and then they’ll follow behind. No matter what happens, the squad will still have to be careful of pods and whatnot, but most of them will be taken out by the volunteers by the time the squad leaves the base.

In other words--they’re not going to get any action. Katniss is still going to be filmed, but it’s practically useless in your mind. Her setting off pods or standing patriotically in front of things isn’t going to do much. She’s not leading anyone, she’s following behind people.

Which is a whole other reason why you’re up front: you’re not a follower, you’re a leader.

As Paylor gets back to her speech, giving more information, you grab a hold of Finnick’s arm, and start to pull him out of the crowd. Trying to navigate through is hard at first, until the volunteers see the look on your face, or recognize who you are. After that, a path just wide enough for you and Finnick to fit through, forms.

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here, we were already briefed.” you say, and the second you’re out of the crowd, you let Finnick go.

Bouncing on your toes, you twirl around a bit, “Tomorrow, huh? Too bad it can’t be today.”

“We’ll probably be introduced to our squad at least.” Finnick says, “You know where to go?”

“What kind of moronic question is that?” you ask, heading to the building that Lyme said would be the meet up spot for you guys, “Of course I know.”

Lyme and Boggs had approached both you and Finnick. Either you could join Katniss’ star squad, protect her, befriend her, trust her--whatever. You guys would have a chance of being on television, and maybe even share some glory of ‘being brave and marching to the Capitol’. In your opinion, it looks like Coin just wants to put two of her best faces together to make you look like a team.

Especially after what you said to the people inside of the tunnel, you basically discredited Katniss in the worst way possible. By saying that she can’t relate to them, because she doesn’t get it. You said what you said, you weren’t lying to their faces. If Coin wants to think that, then she can because she’s psychotic anyway.

Anyway, Lyme said that you could go to the front lines. Like you said, Coin doesn’t control you, because you aren’t the one leading the masses--Katniss is. If you want to go ahead and clear out streets for the medical brigades, then you can go nuts with it. You’ll get your own personalized squad that Lyme thinks will get along with you, and then you’re free to go tomorrow.

You’ll have your own pod-tracker, a map to follow, food and water, weapons, etc. But this just means that you’re going to be in danger with every step you take. The pod-tracker, which is actually called the Holo, will be as updated as can be, tomorrow. However, if any new pods appear, you won’t really know until it’s too late.

You received all of this news pretty well. You’re used to being in places you’re not welcome at. You’re pretty agile, you can fight well, you’re not too bad when it comes to leading a group. And if you get killed on the way, what a noble way to go out.

As for Finnick, you could just tell that this isn’t what he thought it was going to be. You don’t know what he expected exactly, but it wasn’t a whole ton of danger all wrapped up in one big city. Seeing the Capitol as dangerous is a comedy. To you two, it’s been sparkle and shimmer for as long as you can remember.

Combining the pretty idea of it, and the idea that the gamemakers have not held back with what will go on with traps--isn’t a fun thought. Especially not for you, since you’re the one who’s seen it as glamour the entire time. Finnick… you’re not too sure. He definitely doesn’t have good memories either, but he also got his shitload of secrets from there, so you’re not entirely sure.

You know that he’s pro-rebellion though. That’s obvious by now.

Back to what you were saying, Boggs and Lyme both offered sides to it. Follow Katniss around and not be in direct danger all the time, or have your own squad and be face-to-face with danger. She liked to describe it as ‘death breathing down your neck’.

You already promised a lot of people that you wouldn’t be taking the cowards way out. And like you’ve said already; you don’t want to be in the star squad.

While the entire interaction was happening, it was obvious that Finnick was hoping you would change your mind. Like everything that you’ve done up until now has been one entire joke.

He’ll realize just how real it’ll all be as soon as tomorrow comes. When the deal with Boggs no longer stands and you have to go with Lyme no matter what.

Actually, you wouldn’t have to go with her. You would be able to just stay in District Two, while all the volunteers do your dirty work.

“Remember any of the names that she told us?” You ask Finnick, looking at him.

He’s got his thumbs looped into the straps of the bulletproof vest he’s wearing. He thinks for a moment, and then makes a face, “Not really.”

You shrug, “Not a problem, I’ve got a way around seeming rude.”

Finnick laughs, “You care about that?”

“They’re going to be the ones saving our necks, so yeah.” You say, cracking your knuckles, “They’re not a bunch of victors that I can mouth off to. They’re regular people, they won’t understand and will end up taking it personally.”

“Critical thinking.” Finnick mocks.

If you didn’t have all this armor on, you’d spin around and kick his ass. Even then, he might be able to win. When you two were putting the outfits on, he looked like none of the weight fazed him. As for you, your knees nearly buckled.

On top of the armor are the backpacks, and then your fancy weapons, and a hundred other things inside of the backpacks. It makes it all so heavy, and your shoulders had begun to ache after a while.

The only reason why you’re still wearing it—because in no way was it required to be worn—is because you want to get used to the feeling of it all. It’s why you continue to move around quickly, bounce on your toes, spin in circles and all of that. You’re trying to fix your balance.

If Finnick had tried to push you over when you first put all this weight on, you would have stumbled and fell. Now, you’ve begun to get a hang of it all, it’s not nearly as bad as you thought it was.

You two make it to the abandoned building. The upper floor is caved in, the windows are gone and if the ground shakes, concrete debris will come through the cracks. Definitely not a safe place to be at, but the entire district is fucked up like this. It’s not really a huge surprise.

The inside of the building is relatively empty, except for some furniture. Finnick waits by the door while you head inside, stealing two chairs--one in each arm--as you leave the house. If the place collapses, you’d rather be on the outside, not the entire.

Finnick takes his chair from you, and the two of you set up camp outside. You have to shed the backpack before you sit. Then, you unbuckle the bulletproof vest and drop it onto the dirt next to you, leaning back in the chair.

“Have you ever actually gone to war before?” Finnick asks.

“There’s always a first time for everything.” you give him a pretty smile, “Don’t be so negative about it, you’re going to imagine bad things and then get us killed.”

Finnick pauses for a moment, letting what you said sit, and then he moves on, “Are you doing okay?”

You watch his face, looking for mockery. It takes a moment of you squinting and watching the corner of his lips for you to decide. He’s being sincere about it, he actually cares.

You relax, “I’m still mourning, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Finnick is just as relieved as you are, “Are you throwing yourself into this because of her?”

“I’m doing this because I promised those people that I would.”

“You keep saying that, but you don’t owe them anything--” Finnick tries.

You squint at him again, but this time it’s a very clear glare. Finnick shifts uncomfortably in his chair, and you resist to kick out the weakest leg that’s barely holding his weight.

“They are my people.” you lean forward, “I might not know their names, but they’re District Two. They are the people that I grew up with. They look up to us, they depend on us victors. Of course I owe them, and you do too.”

Finnick doesn’t bother with saying anything else, and it’s probably for the best. It’s only a few minutes later when you see people approaching. After that, you sit up in your chair, uncrossing your legs as you lean on your knees with your elbows.

“You must be (Y/n) and Finnick.” a girl with blonde, curled hair says, “I’m Hydri.”

You get to your feet, holding out your hand, “Nice to meet you.

“This is Taurus,” she motions to a tall man with black hair. There’s tattoos snaking up his neck, and they’re peeking out from beneath his sleeves, “And Alioth.”

Alioth is around average height. He gives a small smile and raises his hand as a greeting. His hair is blonde too, and it’s a style that was most definitely taken out of the Capitol’s stylists books. The sides are shaved but they have intricate designs in them.

“Let me guess, you two are from District Two?” you ask, shaking Taurus’ hand, and then Alioths.

“Not me.” Hydri smiles kindly, “Taurus is from District One, though. He was nearly in the games once.”

“It’s a good thing I wasn’t, you would have wiped the floor with my body.” Taurus says, his voice is pretty deep.

“No shit.” you laugh, “I always heard about the runner-up from District One, but I never got to see who you were.”

Taurus cracks a smile.

Finnick moves around you to greet them just the same as you did. Then, the conversation shifts to what you’re all really here for--what happens tomorrow.

The entire thing is very friendly, you all go over what you’ll be having inside the backpacks, and the difference between them. Just so that if one of you get hurt or killed, the others will know if the backpack is worth taking or not. While you’re talking, you learn that Alioth will be carrying mostly medical stuff. He’s got food and ammo for himself, but when he opens his backpack and shows it to you guys, you can see exactly what he means.

To have him get killed would be bad. You all have basic medical training, from the games or otherwise. But Alioth’s been studying it for years now since he got out of high school. He originally wanted to sign up for the medical brigade that will be sent out of District Two, but Paylor thought it would be better for him to come with you guys.

Taurus has got the basic prep-games training that you guys get in the academies, so he’ll be a pretty good fighter. Another person you guys wouldn’t want to lose, and yet he tells you all that he doesn’t care if you lean on him. It’s what he’s here for.

As for Hydri, she’s purely for organization. She’s been studying the maps for the last few days, so she’ll be able to keep you from getting lost and from getting off-track. You’ll be able to meet up around Snow’s mansion in the center city. They’ve already marked a building that’s not really used, so it’s the perfect place to go.

After a while, the conversation starts to get a bit dull, and it’s also around the same time that the sun has set. So, you tell them all that you and Finnick are going to grab dinner and head to where you’re staying for the night. Tomorrow, you five will be meeting up in a separate designated spot to receive the Holo, and then hop on a truck to be brought to the city.

Then, you’ll be fighting for your life. Again.

You turn the Holo over in your hand, looking at it carefully.

“Don’t break it, we could barely even spare you this one.” the lady tells you.

You look at her, raising your head to be level with her face. Finnick--sensing a showdown--steps in, “Thank you.”

He tries to drag you away, but you keep your stance for a moment, “Lyme personally requested it for me, so you aren’t sparing jack shit. Go fuck yourself.” without missing a beat, you take the Holo from her fingers, mock a smile and say, “I mean, have a nice day.”

You and Finnick leave the table after that, heading over to your group. They’re pulling on the last of their outfits, readjusting straps and buckling up. Taurus is messing around with Alioth slightly while Hydri watches.

They act like they’ve known each other forever, despite the fact that you’re all from varying districts. Taurus is from one, while you and Alioth are from two. Finnick is from four, and Hydri is from District Six. So far, you seem to like them. But they’re obviously a little apprehensive when it comes to you.

You don’t take it personally anymore.

“Got the Holo?” Hydri asks.

You lift it up for her to see, “We’re all good to go.”

“It’s already set up?” Taurus asks.

“Bitch at the booth taught me.”

Taurus snorts, “Let’s go then.”

Hydri leads the way, with Alioth right by her. Taurus hands back with you and Finnick during the walk. For them, it’s not quiet, but for you, it is.

At first, you’re looking at the groups of people getting ready to go to the trucks. And then your eyes wander a little further to where the tents are on the base. From where you are right now, you have a perfect line of sight to where Boggs is standing, talking to some woman, around them stands a few other people.

“How many people do you think have going with Katniss?” you ask.

“Remember when I ran off this morning?” Finnick asks, you nod but don’t look at him, “Went to talk to Boggs. Katniss has got her camera crew from District Thirteen with her, Gale, and the other five.”

“Huh.” you shift your gaze to the trucks, watching some of them take off. Then, it clicks in your head. Five, Katniss, Gale, and the four from the camera crew, “eleven people?”

“Yup. That’ll be a nightmare.” Finnick mutters, “Katniss is probably planning her escape at this exact moment.”

“And it would have been thirteen if we went with them.” you whistle, “There’s no safety in numbers. They’re all going to end up dead.”

Taurus turns his head a little in your direction, you can see the scowl on his face. Yet, he doesn’t ask any questions and just lets what you said slide. He doesn’t look like the confrontational type, but when he does, it’s when he’s pushed the edge. He just has that air about him.

“You really think that?” Finnick asks.

You look at him, “Thirteen people, all with different ambitions and minds of their own. All it would take is for one person to mess up, and the rest are dead. Especially since we’re walking into a minefield.”

Shaking your head, you turn the Holo in your hand, “Katniss will be lucky if she makes it past the first round of pods.”

“You hate her that much, huh?” Taurus finally pitches in, but he doesn’t look at you.

“I don’t hate her, and I don’t loathe her either. She should’ve stayed in District Thirteen, but it’s too late for that now.” you glance behind you to where Boggs is, one final time before they’re finally out of sight.

Boggs seems to be staring at you too, and when he realizes you’re looking back, he raises his hand. You stutter to do the same--mostly because you’re surprised at the action--but you do it, nonetheless. After, a building blocks the view, and you’re forced to go back to focusing on the trucks.

Hydri leads you right to an armoured truck. She knocks on the door once or twice, and then steps back as she waits for them to swing open. It takes a moment, but they do. On the inside, there’s already a couple of people sitting inside on the right. The guy who answered, takes a seat to the right again.

Hydri moves aside, a bright smile on her face as she motions for you guys to go inside. Alioth doesn’t hesitate, with one hand grabbing the bar to the left, and him taking one big step to get himself up. Then, he moves right on back. When Taurus gets up there, he doesn’t struggle with the step as much as Alioth had.

Finnick goes in before you, but he doesn’t sit down right away, instead offering his hand. You grab the bar with your left hand, and his hand with your right. Working together, he pulls you into the truck with no problem. Then, he offers the same courtesy to Hydri, but makes sure she doesn’t get the seat right next to you.

“Thanks.” you mutter, closing your eyes as you lean your head back.

“Anytime.”

Alioth must’ve leaned forward to talk to the driver through the window or something, because the truck gets moving after that. The ride is relatively bumpy at the start, since the trucks had been parked in gravel, but it smoothes out once you’re on the cement.

“Are we getting dropped off in the same spot?” Hydri asks.

“No, we’re earlier than you guys are. Trying to spread out and all.”

“That’s what I thought. At least Paylor knows what she’s doing.” Hydri sighs.

“Did you hear about Lyme?” Taurus asks.

“She’s fine.” Hydri says, “(Y/n) saw her this morning, it was just a scratch. Lyme will be back on her feet, and she might even join us in the center circle.”

“If we make it that far.”

Taurus sighs too, and the conversation between the two groups ends right there.

A while later, there’s some rustling around, making you open your eyes to see what’s going on exactly. The group across from you is getting their backpacks and weapons ready.

They’re talking amongst themselves, mostly about where the nearest pod is going to be the moment they stop off. It’s too bad that they won’t be able to locate where exactly, all they know is that it exists somewhere.

The truck comes to a slow stop, Hydri helps the other girl open the door, and she holds it open so it’s easier for the second group to leave. The other girl says a thank you, and then the doors are shut again.

Taurus and Hydri move to the other bench to make it more comfortable between you five. And Hydri just opens her mouth to say something, when there’s an explosion. For a moment, you think it’s okay, until the truck teeters, and then tips. Unfortunately, it’s in yours, Finnick’s and Alioth’s direction.

There’s not much you can do.

Butterflies swarm in your stomach. A scream rises to your throat. You reach out to grab something--anything.

Your fingers just barely latch onto the edge of the bench, but you hang onto it.

Your back slams against the truck painfully, but your head is cushioned. While you’re staring at what used to be the wall, which is now the ceiling, something slams into the metal next to you.

You look over to your right, trying to see who it is. Finnick is in your way though, and he’s already getting to his elbows, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” you tell him, sitting up and scooting back. Finnick had cushioned your head with his arm--you’re not sure if that was on purpose or if he was flailing just like you were.

Hydri is on her hands and knees next to Finnick, it just means she went flying towards you guys. At least she’s breathing and awake. Taurus is in the dip of the floor, sitting because he can’t stand. And with a look to Alioth, he gives a thumbs up to you.

“Get the doors open.” you tell Taurus, unbuckling the backpack from your body, and then you lean down and grab the Holo.

You turn it on, squinting at it through blurry vision. You blink a couple of times, watching as the device comes to life, and the orange dots take over the blue landscape. The nearest pod is about a hundred feet away--so they couldn’t have set off that one.

The doors slam open, and Taurus reaches for your backpack. He carefully drops it on the outside, eyes glued to the flames that are engulfing a building.

“New pod.” You say, “They ran into one of the new ones.”

You get up with the help of Taurus, not waiting for anyone else. After you slide out, you land on your feet harshly. Another look to the Holo shows an orange dot where the fire is.

“Figures.” you say, picking up the backpack and slinging it over your shoulder.

“(Y/n)--stop!” Finnick’s voice is hard, “What if there’s another?”

You turn around for a moment, “Did you not see what just happened? What if--”

There’s a blast of heat, and then the sound follows. You make a face, but don’t cover your ears as you look to where you were heading.

A second pod has been set off, and one of the people that were inside of the truck, now struggles to put the fire out. They flail, dancing around like they don’t know what they’re doing. Then, they shed the backpack, and the jacket--which are both charcoal black now--until they eventually sink to their knees, since the flamethrower is still targeting them, following their every move.

You open your mouth as if words will form, but all you feel is your hot breath on your lips as you breathe out.

“Are there any survivors?” Alioth asks, rocks crunching beneath his feet.

“They’re all dead.” Taurus says, “We should check on the drivers--”

“Alive!” Hydri calls, which makes you all turn, “But the driver’s got a head wound from the airbag.

Alioth doesn’t care, he goes ahead and checks them out anyway. You go from staring at the fire to looking at the path you took to get here. It would be a long walk back, and even then there’s no guarantee that Boggs will take you back. Or if you’ll make it in time.

“What are you thinking?” Finnick asks.

You reach up with your right hand, grabbing the left backpack strap as you tilt your head for a moment, “That we better be careful where we step from now on.”

Those two explosions that the second group had set off, might have been the first to happen, but they weren’t the last. It was just the beginning of the chain, that probably won’t end until the last volunteer travels through the Capitol.

The gamemakers were smart with their placement--you just have to admit it. They chose the very outskirts of the city, knowing full well that there would be a ton of volunteers that wouldn’t suspect a goddamn thing. You all were expecting the pods to be further into the city, not lining the outering of it.

It’s clear why they did it though, when those first pods went off, it was an indicator that you guys were now coming into the city. It was a way for all those peacekeepers to gear up and find a place to hide until a group of volunteers came through the streets. It would also let Snow know that he should probably be pulling back his citizens a little more forcefully, now.

And not only all of that, but the fact that they’d also know that you were all going in from different directions. Different starting points to offer different advantages. Of course, it also has its disadvantages. You’re having to set off the first pods, rather than walking through a street that’s completely clear already.

The gamemakers don’t care enough to set up the pods again, they’ve got worse things to worry about. Like predicting when you’ll all make it there, and trying to spot the places you hide during the night. For them, it’s going to be a fun game of paranoia that won’t stop until you’re right in their face.

They won’t have a clue either. Not after what Paylor said earlier, with different ways to hide yourself in a crowd. You might not be allowed to antagonize the Capitol citizens, but you’re definitely allowed to raid their wardrobes. Especially the ones that have houses that are already trashed.

If you dress like the citizens, do some crazy fucking makeup to alter your face, and figure out the accent and walk, you’re practically golden. There’s no way that they’ll really be able to tell it's you. If they end up asking for ID, all you have to do is make up some lame excuse about leaving the house in a hurry.

More or less, problem solved.

Until then, you’re all traveling through the streets, just trying not to get caught in the middle of a trap.

“Pod?” Taurus asks, looking back at you.

You hold the Holo up, staring down at the blue for a moment. The next orange dot seems to be miles away, “Not from what I can tell. Just go carefully.”

Taurus goes first, making you guys wait a couple of seconds before following him. In case there is a trap, there will be a few feet between you guys and him, allowing time for escape. It was his idea, it’s not like any of you forced it on him.

“Take a right.” Hydri says, “These alleys are confusing, but it’s our better shot. The main streets are a minefield, aren’t they (Y/n)?”

You shake your head, holding up the Holo for her to see, “Not really, the nearest one might be on the street but--”

“Stop!” Finnick yells to Taurus.

Finnick pushes his way up to you and Hydri, basically pressed against your back as he leans forward to point out the pods, “Right there, see? It’s so faint that we can’t see it.”

“The faint ones are supposed to be the ones that have already been triggered.” you tell Finnick, “It’s what that lady told me.”

“But we’re the first ones through here.” Alioth says, “That can’t be possible.”

While you all stand and stare, thinking up a million possibilities as to why this is happening, your eyes are searching the alleyway for a trigger. If Finnick is right about it being a pod, it’s here, in this little maze of backstreets. You all could be beneath it, on top of it, around the corner from it…

The brick wall of the alley is relatively clean, no one has been through here in awhile. The trash cans that are tucked away have genuinely begun to collect dust. If you were to swipe your finger on top of one of the lids, then you’ll get a thick layer of it on your finger.

This part of the city has long since been deserted. Not only because it was the first to be evacuated, but even worse than that. The gamemakers must have made them leave weeks before the day they thought you’d all be coming through here.

So, there’s definitely something in here.

“How close is the nearest one?” Taurus asks, he hasn’t moved from where he stopped, and that’s probably a good thing.

You move Finnick out of the way with one hand as you look behind you guys, eyes squinted as you search the walls for anything out of place. It has to be subtle, because that’s the way the gamemakers have it in the Holo. They must have figured out a way to hack into them or something.

“What is it?” Finnick asks.

You shush him, eyes sweeping the wall behind him. Brick after brick until--

“Cameras.” You say, pointing at it, “That means peacekeepers, guys.” you turn back to Hydri, “Give me the nearest building that should be safe to hide in.”

“Uh--” Hydri shakes her head for a moment, flipping open the map. She’s obviously trying not to freak out as she runs a finger over the alleyway and into the street, “--yeah, okay. I’ll lead.”

She zips past you, Finnick and Alioth and heads straight for Taurus, showing him the way. The two of them don’t hesitate with walking, which means that you guys shouldn’t either. However, you can’t help but reach into a spare pocket, holding out a throwing knife that Beetee had made for you.

“Fuckers.” you throw.

It lands straight into the glass lens. It won’t be able to watch you now, but that means nothing. The peacekeepers know you guys are here, and that’s all that matters.

Finnick turns to check where you are, but you’ve already caught up to him and Alioth.

“Quick thinking.” Finnick says.

“I could say the same about you.”

Hydri brings you guys around a series of corners. It reminds you of the streets of District Two for a moment by how confusing it is the first time you go through. But then you realize there’s a whole pattern to it. That doesn’t mean you had expected where Hydri would bring you guys.

A metal door. Taurus automatically thinks it’s locked, so he goes to kick it in, but Hydri shakes her head and presses a finger to her lips, “Listen.” she whispers.

The five of you all take a moment to try and listen, watching as Hydri pulls out a lockpick, sticking it straight into the lock and beginning to work her magic. It takes a moment of listening to hear it, but then the sound gets considerably louder.

It’s a truck. It’s a truck full of peacekeepers, and they’re not actually coming on foot. There’s going to be a lot more of them than you originally anticipated.

The others must be thinking the same as you because Taurus’ face drops, Finnick pales a little and Alioth opens his mouth to speak, yet nothing comes out. It takes another second before Hydri has popped the door open, and she heads in first, crouched down.

Taurus waits at the door, Finnick shoves you in next, and you go in crouched. Alioth follows, then Finnick, then Taurus--who shuts the door quietly and then locks it again. Hydri is still crouched by the door, waiting for you and Taurus to go up first to evaluate.

None of you actually know what the hell this building is, and by the sound of marching, you’re not going to have much time to figure it out. You and Taurus stop by the same place beneath the counter, and you place your knee against the ground as you squeeze your eyes shut.

This is bad. This is so bad.

You’ve encountered plenty of pods, but those have been relatively easy to bypass. They’re not as dangerous as a squad of peacekeepers are. You set off a pod, the pod is completely done. But peacekeepers? You have to kill each one individually or squeeze your way out.

Escaping them is going to be damn near impossible with five people, especially with a truck full of peacekeepers and god knows if there’s cameras inside of here too.

“Hey,” Finnick says, coming over, “Breathe, it’s going to be fine.”

Right after, there’s a slam on the door behind you guys, and the voices of peacekeepers just outside the building. You look over at Finnick, “Does this look fine to you?”

“I don’t know the layout of the houses, only the streets.” Hydri whispers.

You take a deep breath and another moment of complete silence, before you begin to waddle your way around Taurus. When he goes to stop you, you forcefully push him back, and look at the others.

“Wait.”

You go all the way around the counters, peeking your head around the corner to see the peacekeepers and the actual layout of the building you’re inside. It takes a moment for you to see, and then realize that you’re inside a whole apartment building. There’s a staircase nearby, you guys can go up that as far as it goes…

“Hydri, are there fire escapes?” you ask, looking back.

She nods quickly, and so you motion for them to follow. The pounding on the back door has not only gotten louder, but they’ve begun to cave the metal in from the force they’re using. As for out front--you have no clue what’s going on there.

You lead them all to the staircase, Taurus insists on taking up the back since he can’t have the front. You go up one floor, and then a second, then a third, and then a fourth. The entire way, you’re jiggling door knobs, trying to find one that’s unlocked. If you can run up the fire escape, that would be much easier.

On the fifth floor, you find one single door unlocked, and without a care as to why, you rush everyone inside. It’s only when you go to see for yourself, you freeze where you stand.

“We’re not here to hurt you.” Finnick starts first.

The Capitol citizens are sitting on their couch, enjoying their tea. The woman just barely has the cup in her hold, and her hand is shaking.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, do you recognize the name?”

“Yes.” The man says, standing from where he sits, “What are you doing in my house--”

You ignore him, “You shouldn’t be here. You should have gone with everyone else when you evacuated, because the entire city is full of traps.”

As you make your way around the windows, you find the one with a fire escape. It’s above the alleyway, but it’ll have to work. The door you came in downstairs just blew. You pop it open, letting Hydri and Alioth go out first.

“We mean no harm.” you tell them, “We’re just trying to get away. When the peacekeepers come up here, urge them to get you out of here.”

“Why should we?” he demands.

You’re reaching forward, grabbing Finnick’s sleeve as you make him go before you.

“Because if you even step foot into the streets, you’ll die.” you hand the Holo off to Finnick.

“Go.” Taurus tells you, “I’ll go out last.”

The others are already going up the metal staircase, you can hear their rapid feet. The only person that hasn’t started moving yet is Finnick.

“Please.” you look at the woman, “I’m telling you it’s not safe here, not even for us.”

You go through the window, and just as Taurus comes over, you can hear the voices and the dozen pairs of footsteps too. Taurus gives one look to the door, then back to the window. You reach your hand out like you’re going to pull him through, but he slams the window shut instead.

As he’s reaching for the curtains, the automatic is in his hands. He tilts his head at you, like he’s telling you to run while you can. Then, the fabric covers the window, and you can hear the first slam into the door.

“Go.” you tell Finnick, pushing him, “I said go!”

Finnick gets moving after that, flying up the staircase faster than you can. He takes them two at a time, and at every landing, he looks back to make sure you’re following. Finnick just barely gets to the ladder when you hear the first bullet leave the gun, and following are the screams.

He’s just barely up far enough when you begin going. At the top waiting is Alioth and Hydri, reaching out to yank Finnick up the last couple of rungs. When you get up there, Finnick takes you all by himself.

At the top of the roof, you take a moment to catch your breath.

“Where’s Taurus?” Hydri asks, looking between you and Finnick.

“Dead.” you tell her, moving along the top of the roof to find a way out. The gap between roof to roof is narrow, you could take this jump in your sleep, “He couldn’t get through the window in time, so he stayed back to help us, but we’re not out of the woods yet.”

You pull yourself on top of the safety wall on the roof, getting to your feet. You shed the backpack, curse the bulletproof vest for getting in the way, and then you throw. The backpack clears the wall without a problem, and you look back at the others.

“We have to keep moving.” you insist.

You back up as much as you can afford, preparing for the jump.

“(Y/n)--!” Finnick yells.

You throw yourself forward in a run, taking the leap. The second roof is a little lower, which is perfect, you land onto the safety wall below, and tumble for a moment. When you catch yourself, you look right back at the others, who are hanging over to make sure you’re okay.

“It’s not a bad jump. Toss me the Holo.” you hold out your hands.

Finnick tosses it to you, and then he throws his backpack next to yours. He mirrors the way you had gotten onto the wall, before hopping over too. Then Hydri, and then Alioth. Just as you all get your shit back together, there’s more peacekeepers coming.

The four of you keep moving, onto the next roof. Then, you force them all to hide against the wall as you take a look at the Holo. The peacekeepers are nearby, they’re an entire rooftop over, and they have no clue what direction you guys actually moved in.

The Holo offers little help, from what you can see, there’s no faint orange dots. But the nearest solid orange one is literally in the street below. There’s no way you’d want to go down there, and from what Hydri said, the alleyway ended with that metal door. If you get down right now, then you’d have to trigger the trap when you step on it.

Unless you’d rather take a chance.

You shed the backpack, digging through the pockets until you pull out a metal ball. Taurus was using these to set off the traps that required weight and sight of something moving. All you have to do is throw this in the street below to set it off. The peacekeepers that are standing on the street will have to hide.

But it’ll take them a moment to realize what’s going on.

“What are you thinking?” Alioth asks.

“Just watch.” you move past all of them, taking one glance at the neighboring rooftops to see that there’s no one there.

You check the Holo again just to be sure, and then you get up, hurling the ball right where the pod should be. For a second, nothing happens.

Then the ground opens up, and starts to crumble.

“Oh shit.” you say, “Nearest rooftop--now!”

The rumbling of the ground gets louder, and you can hear the yells of the peacekeepers. Finnick and Alioth are the first to the rooftop away from the street--the far back one. Alioth sheds all his gear, Finnick gets down to grab his foot, and then he boots Alioth up.

Alioth squirms for a moment, but he gets up, leaning over for his shit. Finnick tosses them up, and Alioth takes it, and throws it behind him, completely disregarding it. And considering you all are on a time limit, it matters a ton.

Next is Hydri, but she insists her stuff goes up first, since everything inside is important. Anyone can read a map, but you all navigating the city without it will be hell.

You and Finnick stare at each other for a moment, and since you already know what he’s going to say, you hand the Holo off, then the backpack, and Alioth pulls you up with Hydri barely helping. The second that you’re on the higher roof, you’ve thrown yourself over the side.

The building Finnick’s on is tilting towards the gaping hole in the street, getting further and further away from you guys.

Pain strikes your heart, and you panic a bit when Finnick tries to take off the backpack.

“Jump!” you yell to him, “I’ve got you!”

Finnick listens to you, leaving the backpack and all on as he backs up a bit, gets a running start and bolts for the wall. You lean down as far as you can without losing your balance.

Finnick jumps, and with the amount of distance between the two buildings--you’re sure he won’t make it.

Then, his hand hits yours, and you’re reaching down with a second hand to grab his wrist.

Together, you and Alioth pull Finnick up the wall and into the roof with you guys. Once he’s inside, Finnick stumbles and falls onto his back, breathing heavy. You crouch down next to him, placing your hand on his chest.

“You’re okay?”

Finnick takes a breath in, “You were afraid.”

You crack a smile, “Of course I was.”

Offering your hand to him, he takes it. You pull him onto his feet with barely any struggle, patting his back as you move past him to gather your things again. You buckle the backpack, back in place, and take the Holo from Hydri.

“We should be good for a while.” you look up to Hydri.

“Ladder.” Alioth tells you guys, kicking off a hatch, “We should keep moving.”

“Ready to go, Finnick?” you ask.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Finnick says, giving you a smile.

You stare at the bedroom, “This feels weird to do.”

“You’re the one that said you wanted to have an apartment in the Capitol.”

You make a face at Finnick, tilting your head, “There’s a difference between getting a brand new apartment and sleeping in someone else’s bed.”

“Then go sleep in the living room.” Finnick heads into the bedroom, tossing his backpack onto a chair.

“How about you go sleep in a different room.” you jut your thumb towards the door, “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Finnick gives you a cheeky grin as he sits on the edge of the bed, taking off his bulletproof vest, “Also there are no other rooms besides the living room.”

You sigh, grabbing the door knob, “Goodnight, Finnick.”

“You’re seriously going out there?” Finnick asks, throwing the vest onto the armchair with his backpack, “You’d rather sleep on a couch than a bed?”

“I’d rather sleep alone.” you clarify, “But I’m not getting that either way.”

Finnick pats the bed next to him, “We can make a pillow wall.”

“I’d rather deal with the neck pain.”

“Don’t be a wuss.” Finnick says.

He knew that would make you hesitate.

And you can tell by the smile creeping onto his face more and more as he pats the bed again, “Come on.” he sings.

You squint, “Why are you so eager?”

“Don’t wanna sleep alone.” Finnick is now removing his shoes, “Haven’t really slept alone in years.”

You take in a deep breath, “That’s not what I expected to hear, and it was the wrong thing to say on your part, too. Going to the living room.”

“You can at least sleep on the floor.”

“The likeness of you staring at me all night is too high.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself.” Finnick scoffs, hurling a shoe at you.

You catch it without a problem, “That’s all I am, sweetheart.”

Finnick’s eyebrows skyrocket, “Sweetheart?”

“God--fuck you.” you turn around, his shoe in hand as you move to the living room.

Finnick is laughing, and he stumbles to catch his footing as he attempts to catch up with you, “You take the bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“Or you could sleep in the living room.”

“Which would still be on the floor.” Finnick says.

You pause in the hallway, watching Alioth and Hydri from it. The two of them are getting along well, Hydri is pretty upset over losing Taurus though. Unfortunately, you didn’t know him very well, therefore can’t mourn for him the same way they can. It was a noble thing he did.

Yet he also took all his weapon supplies down with him when he did it, which is a huge loss. He had--basically--an infinite number of those heavy, metal balls. As for you guys, it’s a limited number, and each one lost brings five pounds out of the backpack. You all discovered that after using so many after Taurus was gone.

Finnick’s not wrong about the living room either, there’s only two couches. And the only thing that looks remotely comfortable after that is the fur rug that’s also kinda matted because the people that lived here apparently didn’t know how to take care of it.

“I’ll take the floor.” You tell Finnick, heading back into the room. You drop everything off by the door.

“No, I’ll take the floor.”

You ignore him, unbuckling the vest as fast as possible before tossing it onto the backpack, and then you turn on Finnick, holding your fists up.

Finnick laughs, but mirrors your stance, “Bring it on, sister.”

“Oh, right.” you laugh with him, before aiming straight for his gut.

Finnick goes to grab you, but you’re too quick for him, bouncing in your boots as you take a jab at his face. It’s not anything too rough, more of a warning for him to knock off his own shenanigans.

Finnick somehow manages to get a hold of you at some point, twisting your arm and giving you a look, “The floor is mine.”

“Just a minute ago you were arguing for the bed.” you grab onto his wrist to keep him from twisting any further.

“Then I’ll take the bed,” he says.

“I’m fine with that!” you say, swinging your leg up for his crotch.

Finnick doesn’t flinch, staring you right in the eyes. And especially since you didn’t actually fall through with it, it’s extra awkward.

“Get me a pillow and a blanket.” you tell him.

“But you’re sleeping on the bed.” Finnick says.

“Then I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket, geez.” you push him away, since his grasp has considerably weakened.

You start pulling off your shoes, tossing them to your backpack. Once they’re off, you remove the socks too so that your feet can finally breathe, after hours of being walked on and the amount of sweat that they’ve had to endure. When you go over to the bed, you take a seat on it, and then throw yourself back.

The mattress is obviously expensive, you can tell by the way you sink into it. You sigh, closing your eyes.

“Better than your mattress at home?” Finnick jokes.

“Unfortunately.” you say.

“I’m gonna sleep on the bed.” he tells you.

“Whatever, I don’t care anymore.” you say, “I’m actually heading to bed, though. So you can tell Hydri and Alioth that we’re done for the night and we’ll recollect in the morning.”

Finnick smiles, “Sure thing.”

Finnick leaves the room, and you take the time to go ahead and get back onto the bed. You carefully place the necklace onto the nightstand, being sure that it won’t fall off and onto the floor. Then, you get comfortable on the bed.

You all really should be keeping your shoes on and all of that, but it’s not realistic. You’re not going to be able to fall asleep with it on, plus it’ll be like a hundred degrees with that fucking bulletproof vest on.

Finnick comes into the room right as you’re getting comfortable. He tosses a water bottle at you, and you drink half of it before deciding to lay down officially.

“I feel kinda shitty that we’re leaving them out there.” Finnick says, getting into the bed, “I mean, the two victors taking the bed?”

“They told me that I could have it.”

“Whatever.” Finnick laughs, “Hydri said that there was a bedroom back here, and that was it.”

Finnick goes to pull the blanket up, but you kick him with your foot, “Go sleep in the bathtub.”

He rolls his eyes, “Goodnight, (Y/n).”

“Touch me even once, and I swear to god you’re going to wake up with a knife to your throat.”

“That’s not very safe.”

“Neither is touching me.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia chapter sixteen #metanoia

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Chapter Fourteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 5k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

If the career districts had their hands on books like these, you would have been forced to read them. Mercilessly. Like, a whole couple of units just studying these useless things. They’re mostly published for the Capitol citizens--which is why they’re not supplied in districts--but imagine having everything you could possibly need to know, in a couple of books.

These handbooks are genius. Even if they’re meant for entertainment and not practical use, they’re fucking fantastic.

Every nine years, one of these books comes out. Inside, they have every tribute that had gone in for those nine years--which comes out to be two hundred and sixteen tributes in total. They have the names, ages, weights, heights, eye and hair colors. Who their mentor, stylist, prep team and district representative was, and so much more.

For example, for the year you won, they start with the tributes and their information.

District One, Deimos Chambers. Black hair, brown eyes. He was seventeen, six-foot-one, with a weight of one hundred and seventy five. His mentor was Gloss, and as for the rest, it seems a little unimportant to you. However, his go-to weapon during training was always a sword, and he seemed to be very skilled in hand-to-hand combat.

Which all career tributes are skilled in, but whatever. You’re all taught to be proficient in something, and it’s mainly hand-to-hand. You’ll hardly see a career tribute try and do shit from far away. You know you wouldn’t bother all that much. From far away, you risk the chances of missing, up close, you can kill them in one goddamn shot.

Deimos’ score was a whopping ten, which is basically what all the comprehensive people had gotten. In his interview he wore all black, and when the lights had been shut off momentarily, the glow in the dark constellations came to life. And it wasn’t that bullshit green color either. It was white, and looked like there were actual lightbulbs behind it all, but the stylist was just creative.

It lists the people he chose to be allies with: Alhena, Zeke, and yourself. How many he killed during the bloodbath, which was one. But in total from start to finish it was three to four, counting assist kills. It says how he died, how many days he survived for, and what he placed.

Next is Alhena Hurley. Brown hair, blue eyes. She was sixteen, five-foot-seven, weighing in at one hundred and thirty five. Her mentor was Cashmere, respectively. Her chosen weapon inside of the training center was a mace, and her special note was that she was strong.

“Not emotionally.” you mutter, snickering to yourself as you continue reading.

Alhena got a score of nine, her interview dress was silver, with black specks on it--which is more or less the opposite of what Deimos had. She killed two people in the bloodbath, and that would stay her number for the rest of the games. She died because she got killed on the third day by someone who was hiding in the trees.

On the District One page, it holds both Deimos and Alhena. Pictures of what they wore during the reaping, train station, parade, interview and inside of the arena. Along with their special picture that would indicate that they were dead. The next page holds their family and friend interviews--if they had any--with the questions that Caesar asked and the answers given by their loved ones.

Then, there’s District Two, starting off strong with Zeke. Blonde hair, brown eyes. Seventeen, six foot on the dot, weighing roughly one hundred and sixty pounds. You guys had the same mentor, so it was Enobaria. He was boring and chose a sword, and his special skill was that he was always moving. More or less, he was quick.

Training score of ten, his suit was a bronze color, while the dress shirt was actually black. It was sorta metallic in the light. Zeke managed to kill one person in the bloodbath, and came out to two to three at the end. And he obviously placed second, because you were the one that killed him so that you could win.

And then there’s yourself. (Y/n) Rosecelli, sixteen. You had fairly short hair when you went inside of the arena--just so that it wouldn’t be grabbed and used against you. You were pretty tall, around the recommended weight group--although, that didn’t really matter in the end--and your mentor was Enobaria. Your chosen weapon inside of the training center was the sai’s and your special talent was being a know-it-all.

You scored a ten, got the same metallic bronze color of a dress with the matching black. Inside of the arena you had killed eight people, placing number one. At the very top of the page it says ‘WINNER!’, like it’s some fucked up game and not a fight for your survival.

It had the pictures and interviews as the others did, but with yours it’s extra special. You get the second interview by Caesar and what outfit you had worn for it. A small section for all the highlights inside of the arena, and then the victory tour, with the celebration at the mansion. All the headlines that you had gotten for being inside of the Capitol ‘willingly’.

And there’s also close-up pictures of all the tattoos you had gotten while you were there too.

It makes you sick knowing that they had produced these for entertainment, when it really could have been for the betterment of future tributes. Apart from all the useless shit they had for profiling the tributes, they literally had their battle plans.

Like for Finnick, it says that he used a fishing net while he and the opponent were in water. He’d get them tangled, and then when he was sure they couldn’t hurt him, he’d just kill them with his super expensive trident. And all the tributes didn’t know to be afraid of him until it was too late.

Just like with Johanna too. She played stupid for her entire time inside of the Capitol, and a little bit into the games to draw people in. She purposely scored low on her private training session--which is no doubt a big setback sponsor-wise. But then she became a killing machine, and almost a legend of sorts.

It made tributes wary of those who pretended to be stupid like that. Gave away their entire motive, because Johanna had done it first, and she won because of it. Anyone who did pose a threat early on would get killed.

It’s the exact reason why you went after the District Four tributes when you did. Your games were directly after Finnick’s, and the thought of one of those fish-eating fuckers getting their hands on you like that was terrifying. So, the only way to eliminate the chance of that happening, is to get rid of the only people who really know their way around water, and nets, and fishing.

Finnick likely hated that, the fact that you went after them specifically when you had the chance. However, you know deep-down that he appreciated that you wouldn’t let them suffer. You just wanted them dead immediately to get rid of the chance of them still being alive. You wouldn’t move from the bodies until the cannons had gone off.

Honestly, your allies should have killed you when they had the chance. If you were smart enough to stand over tributes to make sure that they were dead before moving on, that should have been a red flag. Even when they had wanted to leave tributes to bleed out and die, you’d be the one to finish them off.

Not to mention, you marking your arm after every broadcast of The Fallen was a whole new level of insane. And it’s not like they didn’t notice it or anything, they just chose not to point it out. They knew what it was for and all, but they didn’t say anything.

Someone clears their throat, making you look up from the handbook. You’re not really surprised to see Finnick standing there, in the same white scrubs that you’re wearing.

“Good afternoon.” you flip the page, landing right onto the District Four tributes from your games, “Or evening, I can’t tell in this coffin anymore.”

“The nurses tell me you haven’t left your room in a couple of days.” he doesn’t move from the doorway.

You give him a glance, “Why would I? Peeing in my own bathroom is just the same as the one down the hall. Both have cold toilet seats and smell like cleaning products.”

Finnick cracks a smile, coming into the room now, “What’re you reading?”

“Hunger games handbooks.” you hold it up for him to see briefly, “This is the year I won, and these are the tributes you mentored.”

Finnick comes over, and you turn the book so he can read it a little.

Brook Giles, fifteen, five-foot-eight, around one hundred and fifty six pounds. He has bleached brown hair and blue eyes. His training score was a nine, he wore a classic light blue and white suit during his interviews. His go-to weapon was a sword inside of the training center and he died on the first day because you killed him.

“One of my first takeouts,” you watch his face, wondering if he’ll get mad if you talk about it so carelessly, “It was almost fun.”

Finnick meets your eyes, “You were scared, just like the rest of them.”

“I killed him because he reminded me of you.” you then turn to the girl, “And so did she.”

Mira Osborne, sixteen, blonde hair and green eyes. Five-foot-five, one hundred and forty pounds. She wore a white dress that barely went to her knees, some blue accents here and there. She scored an eight, her go-to weapon was a spear. One kill, and only a few days later she’d die because you’d find her hiding in a cove.

“I was fifteen when I watched you win, and I knew that the following year I’d likely be picked to volunteer. I realized that I didn’t know how to swim at all, and the thought of ending up in a net, scared and drowning was more terrifying than anything I had come across up until that point of my life.” you smile, looking at Finnick now, “So, I dug a hole in my backyard, filled it with water and taught myself how to swim.”

Finnick stares, as if he doesn’t know if you’re kidding or not.

You aren’t.

“Of course, as extra precaution I chose to go after them first. Anyone who got in the way was an added bonus to my kill streak. I hunted Mira like she was a fucking deer and I was starving.” Finnick’s silence is what you expected for telling him information like this, and you’re not even done yet, “And had you not been my soulmate, you, Mags, Katniss, Peeta and Johanna would have ended up just like her.

“And I wouldn’t have stopped until you were all dead.”

Finnick straightens up, stiff. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but snaps his mouth shut.

Smug, you smirk, “What? Did you suddenly realize that I’m exactly who I told you I was?”

Finnick turns to leave, and you wait patiently as he goes towards the door frame. But then he grabs the chair by it, and takes a seat. Although, just by looking at his body language, he doesn’t want to be here. And he doesn’t want to let you win this either.

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you flip the book open again, “You’re making a grave mistake.”

“Stop telling me that.”

You glance up, “Is it because you know that I’m right and you don’t want to admit it? You know you’re leaving a nice, capable girl that would love to settle down, have kids and grow old with you. For someone who’s an insufferable bitch that hates the life she’s been given, and everything that she’s ever cared for gets killed or leaves her.”

“Is that why you won’t let me at least be friends with you?”

You take in a deep breath, “No, I don’t want you near me at all because you’re you. You’re Finnick Odair, darling of the Capitol. You’re Finnick Odair, the youngest victor in history who was also given the most expensive gift ever sent inside of the arena.” you laugh, “Oh! And you’re Finnick Odair, the man who also exposed Snow for who he is. Which lets you be in the spotlight more times that you’re worthy of.”

“So you think you’re not worthy?”

It’s like a blinding rage for a split second as you hurl the twenty-five pound book straight at Finnick, “I can’t fucking stand you!”

Finnick catches the book just barely before it hits him in the face, “(Y/n)--”

“No.” you cut him off, “No, you don’t get to pretend like you’re the voice of reason here, because you’re not. I’m a fucking nightmare, and even I know when enough is enough.” You get up and off of the bed, grabbing a hold of the necklace Tanith gifted you. As you begin to leave your safe place, you point at him, “I know what the fuck is wrong with you.

“You hopped from what you think is one broken girl to another. But news flash, Finnick, I’ve lost much more people,” you get down to his eye level, “I lost my entire family when I got home to District Two after I won my games. And it wasn’t just my immediate family, it was distant aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. Everyone who was even a shred related to me, is now dead. I’m the only one left of my fucking bloodline.”

You stand up now, “Losing Tanith is nothing compared to what I had lost then. I wish I had grown a pair and stepped off the fucking hovercraft to bury her, because doing that wouldn’t have been nearly as much as a hassle compared to dealing with you.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, and you don’t wait to see if he does either. You go straight out, ignoring the nurses that stare at you, because it really is the first time you’ve left the room in days. Everything is delivered to you, if there’s something you want, they’ll go and get it.

You have a vague idea of where you want to go, just getting there is going to be the problem. Typically, even if you do leave the room, someone will follow you out to keep an eye on you. You remember very vividly, a certain nurse standing at an arm's distance from you, during Coin’s last speech. When she announced the liberation of the prisoned victors.

A joke. This whole place is one fucking circus.

Just as you expected, the floor is pretty vacant. Here and there, someone will wander in and out, but that’s really it. You give a look behind you, confirming that there isn’t a nurse following you just yet. Then, you take off towards the elevator.

You barely remember how that one doctor used it, but it shouldn’t be that hard. You press the button, bringing the lift to you. When it stops and makes the annoying sound, you pull the guard rail up, and then step inside. Pulling it down again, you can see one of the nurses round the corner.

You give her a bright smile, punching the top floor, “Tata.”

The elevator starts moving up, and you give her a wave. Then, she’s blocked out by the cement flooring.

For the rest of the ride up, you cross your arms and wait, staring straight ahead. Your game plan is to head to the woods and don’t stop walking until you’re lost. Hopefully, no one will think to follow you out there.

The elevator stops at the top floor, allowing you to be met face to face with a band of people. They’re pulling up the guard rail before you even have a chance to reach for it.

Katniss is on a stretcher, her sister is hovering over her. Haymitch, Beetee, Gale and Boggs are nearby. Not to mention all the other people behind them.

“Geez.” you move out of the way, allowing Katniss to be wheeled in. Beetee and Gale fit themselves on, but Boggs and Haymitch don’t follow.

There’s not nearly enough room for them all to fit on the elevator, anyway. And apparently it gives Boggs to grab a hold of you before you can escape.

“Where are you going?”

You give him a kind smile, “I was given the okay to clear my head for a little.”

“Why are you still in scrubs, then?”

You make a face, shrugging, “Don’t ask me, they’re the ones that told me I was free to go whenever.”

Boggs doesn’t look convinced, and honestly, neither does Haymitch.

“Fine, I made a breakaway because I can’t fucking stand it in there.” you pull your arm from Bogg’s grasp, “For a district that’s all about equality, I don’t see why it should matter if I come up here to disappear for a little while. Or the fact that I’m being followed around when I do leave my room because you guys think I’m some sort of Capitol bootlicker.”

Haymitch laughs, “Same old (Y/n).”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” you then look at Boggs, “Don’t send anyone to follow me. I’ll come back when I feel like I’m ready to breathe stale air and eat shit for dinner.”

“Had you expressed your distaste for District Thirteen earlier, we might have taken you right back to District Two.” Boggs says.

You raise your eyebrows, “Earlier? When did you go?”

“A couple hours ago.” Haymitch says, “We just got back.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “Great, my only way out of this shithole and I wasn’t even aware of it. It’s funny how you brought the guy in the wheelchair and not the girl who literally grew up there her entire life.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Bogg says, “Enjoy your walk.”

The elevator is back, and they step on. You turn around and leave, heading straight towards the opening. You can already hear the chirps of the birds and you’re nowhere near the door.

You pick up the pace, jogging right past the people that work out here. One of them waves, and you raise your hand in acknowledgement. The smile doesn’t even come across your face until the sun is in your eyes.

You take a sharp left, taking the trail for the most part. When you’re out of the sight of those inside of the building, you slow your pace, taking your time with getting lost.

You’re not even kidding when you say that it’s literal fresh air. This smells and tastes nothing like what goes underground. It’s stale, and out here it’s sweet. It must have rained a couple days ago or something because the plants have that smell to them--petrichor.

After a while, you detour from the trail, heading into the trees some more. You weren’t kidding when you said that you’d like to get lost. Being out here, wandering for hours on end is going to be more entertaining than reading those depressing handbooks. On top of that, you won’t have to see Finnick’s face for a while.

He really does get on your nerves. Him pretending that he knows every single detail about you, and claiming the opposite of what you tell him is pissing you off. You’re a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. You’d rather be told the heartbreaking truth than have someone lie through their teeth. So, you assume other people like it that way too. It cuts out a lot of unnecessary drama.

Unless it’s another person’s lie, then you’ll play along. If they want to fabricate things for their own gain, then have at it. Who are you to say no to them?

With Finnick, you’ve told him several times, over and over that you can’t stand him. And he acts as if that’s all going to magically change if he forces you to get used to his company or whatever. And you even dumbed it down for him, explained what the deal was. You don’t want him, you don’t need him. You want or need the help.

He doesn’t need to stick around after that wish has been fulfilled. All he’s doing is hurting his own feelings.

At this point, it might just be the challenge of getting you to like him. Show some kind of friendship just so he can drop it. You wonder if you fake it, he’ll finally leave you alone. You might just have to try that out until he realizes that you’ve had an entire personality flip.

Finnick would probably see that it’s a facade but might go along with it just to see how long you can keep it up for.

It’ll be your own personal game. How long can you be nice on the outside and calm on the inside until Finnick does something completely absurd that it makes you flip your shit? The time starts now.

You take a deep breath, going down the hill carefully, because you can clearly see the river. Off to the left some more are shoeprints and the trail that you had supposedly detached yourself from. It doesn’t really matter anymore, as long as you can sit here and be by yourself, you’re fine.

You get as close to the water as possible, taking off the shoes and rolling up the scrubs. You let your legs sit in the water as you lean back on your hands, staring at the scenery. It truly is a beautiful place here, but you’d never want to stay. Even if District Two is in shambles, you want to go back.

It’s your home. It holds so much grief and terror, and yet you just want to be back in the comforts of your own town. You want to see all your old neighbors before your victory. And see Victor’s Village overflowing with people always, no matter how annoying they were.

They’re all dead now. The only surviving victors from District Two is Lyme, and yourself. Everyone else is dead. Enobaria, Neysa, Tanith, Sorcha, Brutus, Edmond, Zavian and everyone else. Lyme had filled you in, that Snow had them all killed, and anyone else who proved valuable went with him.

Lyme and Paylor are lucky to be alive.

You’d literally give anything to talk to one of them again. To relive Tanith showing up uninvited in your house the morning of the reaping. You would have been so much more gentle than usual if you had known that it would have been the last real conversation without gloom hanging over your heads.

At least you’re lucky to say that your final goodbyes to her and Zavian wasn’t terrible at all. You were able to hug them both and tell them just how much they meant to you. Even if it wasn’t really heartfelt for Zavian, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world he could have heard.

And now they’re gone, and you’re still alive.

“Lucky me.” you murmur, finding a rock and tossing it into the water.

It’s funny how you only feel bad after all those people are dead. You would never in your right mind would have ever thought of being kind to those people until now. You’ve got some genuine guilt on your hands.

Edmond and Neysa really had tried to act in your best interest. They knew your limits, but you like to think that you can push it. Like Edmond making sure you’d be sober and not make a fool of yourself in front of all those people at the train station. He wasn’t doing it to restrict you. And even though he didn’t show it the best way, you could have at least tried to understand.

Neysa just wanted you to get good allies. She wanted to give you a fighting chance, and had you just followed what she wanted, you wouldn’t have been so waist-deep in shit with distrust from Finnick’s alliance. She knew something you didn’t when it came to the fact that you shouldn’t go off alone inside of the arena.

And yet you like to be independent.

There’s a crunching of leaves beneath boots, making you dip your head for a moment. You sigh through your nose, raise your head and then look over your shoulder. It’s exactly who you thought it would be, but he’s not wearing those white scrubs anymore. He’s also got some clothes draped over his arm.

You squint at him, “Are you wearing a suit?”

“Not the reaction I was expecting.” Finnick’s got his signature smile on his face, showing off his dimples.

You turn away before you can say something mean.

“I figured you’d rather run away in something much more fashionable.” Finnick stops behind you.

“How’d you know?”

You stare at the water for another moment, before pushing yourself up, brushing off the dirt from your butt, knowing full well that it’s still going to be there. In Finnick’s hands sit some familiar ripped black jeans, but a navy blue shirt.

“I see they have a pattern.” you hold up the shirt to see, “And it has a breast pocket too.”

“The pink shirt was thrown away since you destroyed the hem.”

“I was anxious.” you reason, placing the shirt back.

You take off the white scrub shirt, making Finnick turn his head away. A smile appears on your face, because he acts like he literally hasn’t seen you naked before--cough cough, after you got bit by spiders. Butt ass naked, it wasn’t just Finnick who saw you completely nude. You flashed the whole fucking country.

They probably couldn’t keep that in, and had to change the camera perspective after that.

You pull on the shirt, and then you pull off the bottoms, being sure to wipe your muddy feet on them to clean off your feet.

“So what made you follow me out here this time?” you ask, taking the jeans and pulling them on.

“Your stunning personality, as always.” Finnick looks over now, “And the fact that Haymitch and Boggs wanted me to follow you out here. I tried to tell them it wasn’t the brightest idea, but they had me do it anyway, gave you a thirty minute head start first, though.”

“Smart of them. I’m assuming you saw Katniss, then?”

“Seems like she’s been taking hit after hit lately.”

“Imagine getting strangled by your fiance.” you laugh, and Finnick joins in.

“Imagine getting punched by your soulmate.” Finnick gives you a look.

You roll your eyes, “Okay, you have to admit that you deserved it.”

“Whatever makes you feel better about yourself.”

You press your lips together, stomping your foot into the boots since you’re too lazy to untie them. You repeat the process with your left foot, which takes a lot longer. Finnick just laughs at you the entire time, since you refuse to go down and fix it yourself.

“Let’s get serious for a moment.” you look at Finnick, and he looks a little afraid, “It’s nothing bad, you might even think I’m lying for a second.”

“That’s not--why would you say that?” he laughs.

You take your dirty scrubs from his hands, “Because I think ahead.” you tap the side of your head, “Anyway, I honestly want to apologize for what I said earlier.”

Finnick’s eyebrows skyrocket, and you can’t help but to laugh, “You’re being serious?”

“I am.” you start towards the trail, “And I would also like to apologize for everything that I’ve said before that. And all my actions too, like if I punched you or threw something at you.”

“Where’s all this coming from?” Finnick asks, “I mean, I accept but you gotta tell me why.”

You look at him, “I was thinking before you came out here--obviously--that people aren’t really out to get me. I don’t have to be independent and fight by myself anymore, not when there’s people with the same… struggles. You get it, right?”

Finnick’s impressed, “I do.”

“You know, a genius once told me that I’m not as dislikable as I like to think.”

It takes Finnick a moment before it clicks in his head. He’s the one that said it to you.

“A genius, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

He nods, “Well, if we’re apologizing for things--”

“We’re cool, you don’t have to.”

Finnick ignores you, “--I’m sorry for approaching you so strongly.”

“You thought that it was the only way to get through to me, I get it. If someone has their walls up, sometimes the only way to get them down is if you meet their energy.”

“Do I even know you?” Finnick laughs.

“Oh, the glory of having an epiphany.” you smile, giving him a look, “So what are we dressed up for?”

“Your newfound freedom.”

“The fuck?” you laugh.

“Haymitch and Boggs convinced Coin to get you a little more freedom, which means that they weaseled me in too. We get a dorm, get to eat with the others and we can come up here whenever we want.”

“I have a feeling this is a little bit of bullshit.”

Finnick chuckles, “How did you know?”

“You can’t deceive me, I see through most of the shit you and your buddies do. I pay attention. I knew you, Johanna and the others were in an alliance before it was formed. And I also knew that you were planning a rebellion, and all you asked is if I was a loyalist.” you get back to walking, “You could even say that I’m a little insightful.”

“I’ll give you that one.” Finnick agrees, “Also, before we go back inside, you should know something else.”

“What did you do this time?” you look at Finnick.

He’s stopped walking, and so you do too, “I’ve ended things with Annie completely.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter fourteen

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Chapter Five (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

It’s really funny how they set a uniform to wear for the private session with the gamemakers. They haven’t really done that before, and you know that because of your years of mentoring. They don’t have a set outfit that they want the tributes to wear. Sure, they have guidelines, but nothing this strict.

It’s a tracksuit jacket that goes up to your throat. You zip it up all the way, squinting at yourself in the mirror, because this wouldn’t have been your first choice for a uniform. You don’t look too terribly bad, it’s just the fact that you’ve never worn something so… hideous.

Despite this all, you pull your hair out of your face again, it’s even messier than it has been the past three days for training. Progressively, you’ve begun to care less about what you look like. You’ve been zeroing in on as many skills as you can gather like a hoarder. You spent the first day just training, and the last two days learning the useful stuff. The shit they don’t teach in the academy.

It was a good couple of days, even if you were forced to make conversation with the hogs of the stations. The good news is that Cecelia is much more tolerable than Woof. Woof is incompetent, the man will die in the bloodbath. He doesn’t move fast, he doesn’t think straight, and he’ll be a target for you.

You weren’t expecting very much out of him in the first place. He goes right onto the list of the other imcompetent competitors. The list has tripled past your expectations. These games are going to be a walk in the park.

Brutus is already waiting in the main room when you get out there. He’s got an orange in his hand, already peeled. He looks up when you enter, and without a word, stands and heads for the door. This afternoon, Neysa and Edmond will be nowhere in sight. You haven’t seen Theo in days, but that’s no matter.

Neysa and Edmond will be consulting with the stylist to make sure that the interview outfits are matching. Amias is already working with whoever is working with Brutus, but it’s for more understanding. Neysa knows what you would like to wear, and Edmond will have an idea for what Brutus would like.

Brutus holds out a single orange slice.

You prick it from his fingers popping it in your mouth. When you bite down, the juice explodes in your mouth. It’s sweet, a little tangy. You don’t pride yourself with oranges, since they’re such a rare thing to come across in District Two. You guys might be rich and a favorite, but it doesn’t mean you get everything that you desire.

The elevator brings you down to the same floor you’ve been for the past three days. The ride is short, the doors open, you guys step out and head towards the room where you’ll be waiting to be called in. This shouldn’t take very long. After everyone gets inside the room, it’s only three people before it’s your turn.

Walking in, there’s only a couple of people here already. A few of which you’ve actually talked to, during your time of rotation in the training room. Cashmere and Gloss already sit by the wall up front, so you allow Brutus to go in first, since you’ll be sitting on the end of the row.

There’s three rows of four to fit all twenty-four of you in here. The way that things are laid out in here kinda make sense, but you wish that they had allowed District Two to be up against the wall. You’d rather be leaning against the cold concrete while your body is beginning to heat up.

You’re not mad, you’re not embarrassed, this is something that doesn’t belong to you again. It could very well be nerves, again. Since it basically feels the exact same as it did last time…

Maybe the jacket is too much, because there is no reason why you should be feeling like it’s ninety degrees because you’re anxious. You unzip it, and then slip out of the jacket. The second that it’s done though, there’s a whistle behind you.

Gloss turns to look to see who it is, but it doesn’t take a genius to know who’s going to keep harassing you. It’s Finnick, and he’s probably just come in here with Mags. You haven’t turned around since you got inside, mainly because you don’t care who comes in or out. You just want the room to be full already so this show can get started.

“Welcome to the gun show.”

“I really can’t wait until I can knock your fucking teeth out.” you roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it.

Finnick laughs, “I’m not that bad.”

“You are that bad.” you say, “I still don’t know what your goal is.”

“I thought we could be friends.”

“You thought wrong, my friends are sitting right here.”

Brutus snickers but doesn’t say anything, you can practically hear him ask, ‘we’re friends?’

If he’s thinking that, then so are Cashmere and Gloss, but they’re clearly smart enough not to say anything about it. At least they have some intuition that’s telling them that you don’t want to be talking to Finnick. And the best way to escape a conversation is to set grounds, even if they are lies.

“Who says you have to stop there?” Finnick asks.

“For fuck’s sake, just leave me alone.”

If Finnick has anything else to say, he gives it up. The silence is instant, and you welcome it in with open arms. Besides from the occasional ‘whoosh’ of the automatic doors, or the whispers of tributes talking to each other, the room is quiet.

In no time, the room is full of all the tributes, and Gloss is being called in for his evaluation. As the clock ticks, you can feel yourself grow more anxious. It’s like a bottomless pit in your stomach, or as if you’ve been told that you’re being broken up with. It’s more of a grief feeling.

It’s awful, you don’t like it.

You look down at your wrist, reading over the words again. You run your thumb over them as if they’ll wipe off easily. Of course, they don’t budge even in the slightest. The whole idea of soulmates is crazy.

It’s a dumb concept. Who says that you have to end up with them, anyway? There’s plenty of people that you know, that never followed the rules because they didn’t care. There’s also the fact that you never know if that person is actually alive. It’s not like they fade after the person dies. They’re still as brand new as the day you got them.

You always thought that you’d be able to just overcome it, but with your repelling personality, no dice. That’s fine, you don’t like anyone, anyway. You’ll be content enough to live out the rest of your life in District Two, with two kids--Tanith and Zavian. One who won’t leave you alone, and the other won’t bother to visit.

You won’t be alone forever, you have them, and the occasional person who’s ballsy enough to visit you in your big, old, grand house. And if you can find a single animal you could get as a pet, you’d consider having them around, too. Turn your whole house into a zoo, like the old man that used to live next door, back when you weren’t a victor.

His house was overflowing with animals. Dogs, cats, he had two horses, a cow and a mule in his backyard. In his house were the chickens, goats and pigs. His house was covered in hay and smelt like piss and shit because he never cleaned it. He was too old and too stupid to be running something like that. However, you think he got taken down two years after your win. You went to visit your old house for a few things that you’d remembered that you wanted to move in and the house was just… gone. Like a controlled fire had taken it out.

You can’t say that you feel bad for him, he’s the entire reason why the street smelled so bad. In an upper-class neighborhood like yours, you’re surprised the neighbors hadn’t taken him out any earlier. He’s also the reason why you never opened the windows or doors for more than ten minutes… and why you never went in the backyard, either.

Brutus’ name is called. You fist-bump him, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” he says.

Cashmere passes him on the way in, she gives you a dainty smile, and then continues her walk out of the room. It’s Brutus, and then it’s you.

“Is The (Y/n) Rosecelli nervous?” Finnick asks.

“I’m not.”

“You’re bouncing your leg like you’re trying to get it to fall off.”

You hadn’t even realized it. You stop immediately, leaning into your hands as you rub your face, “I’m not nervous, someone else is.”

“Someone else?”

You look over your shoulder at Finnick, “As much as playing stupid looks on you, don’t start now.”

Finnick is quiet, and then he sputters out a laugh, “You have a soulmate?”

“Everyone does. Mine just happens to be emotional, which is a total drag.” you hiss, “I don’t need to be feeling like this right now.”

The urge to bounce your leg again is like an itch, and you can’t help but to give in.

“I heard taking deep breaths are a fantastic way to calm yourself down.”

You ignore Finnick, it’s not your emotion. You’re confident. You’re excited. You’re enthusiastic. You’re calm. You have nothing to be worried about. You’re going to do great.

You can feel it all start to cease.

You’re an amazing fighter. You’re going to get great scores. You know what you want to do. You’re going to win. You’re the best one here.

One deep breath in, slowly letting it out, it’s like the anxiety wasn’t even there in the first place. Your leg stops, you cross them to ensure it, and continue repeating things to yourself. A much needed ego boost to keep your hands from shaking and your mind from collapsing.

Whoever your soulmate is, you’re beginning to hate them. They’re fucking up basically everything. It’s embarrassing, and you’re never embarrassed.

“Wow--”

“Zip it.” you snap, eyes focused on the door.

“District Two, (Y/n) Rosecelli. Report for individual assessment.” the voice over the intercom says.

You uncross your legs, throwing your jacket over your arm as you stand. You move out of the aisle and head towards the door. On the way in, you see Brutus with a grin on his face.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” you say.

You pull the jacket on now, zipping it up to your throat, because the room is air conditioned. With no one being in here, it makes the room colder. There’s no body heat to be worrying about. Even with the jacket on, you can still feel the cold air through it.

You stand in front of the gamemakers, looking up at them. Plutarch Heavensbee--the new head gamemaker after the last one was killed. Word travels between mentors and victors like disease. Obviously it had to do something with the berries that Katniss and tried to eat. The fact that they were inside the arena in the first place was heinous enough. But to use it against the gamemakers, and Crane allowing it to happen…

“You have ten minutes to present your chosen skill.” Plutarch says.

You give a quick nod, wandering over to the nearest hologram station. You got to play around with it on the first day, and realized that going up to the hardest mode wasn’t even hard. It was medium. You broke a sweat after doing it for the third time in a row, and the gamemakers have definitely seen you mess with it before.

They have to assess you over a period of days, not just one. The private session is designed to show off anything that you wouldn’t want the other tributes knowing.

Which is exactly why you skip over all the regular throwing stations, and head right into the bow and arrow one. They have their own tv holograms that they’ll be able to watch you from.

It’s not a skill you necessarily like. It helps with distance fighting, but since bow and arrows have been associated with Katniss, you’ve basically faded this into nothing. However, you pick up the bow, playing around with the strings to test the tightness. A quiver of arrows is pulled over your shoulder after.

You program the game easily, but before you step in, you turn around and fire an arrow just to see how awful the bow is. It’s not too bad, it’s actually fairly similar to the one they have at the academies. These ones are just tighter because they’re brand new.

You go inside after that. The holograms start off fairly easy. Now that you’re inside, you can see why it was so easy for Katniss to know where they’d be coming from before they were generated. The way that the orange beams move is a clear giveaway.

It takes one arrow for each person, always the center of the chest. If they’re moving, then you make an exception for the head, since it’s the next best thing to wipe someone out immediately.

You can feel yourself go into concentration mode. The beam moves, you spin around. You release the arrow at first chance, nailing the hologram. You grab another arrow, the beam moves, you spin around, release the arrow, get the hologram. Over and over until it’s finally done.

You wish you had some sort of watch so you could know when your time is up, but you decide that this is enough. You place the bow back where it came from, as well as the quiver, which has three arrows left. The arrows inside of the station will be cleaned up by some poor avox, it’s not your job.

You step right in front of the gamemakers again, waiting for them to dismiss you. When they do, you thank them, and then leave the room. You can hear them call in Beetee next, and you pass him on your way out too. Just before you also leave the little waiting room, Finnick and you make eye contact.

And on his face is a half-smile, half-smirk.

You plop down on the couch, leaning back against the cushions. Caesar Flickerman introduces the name of the game: tribute training scores. The entire couch is full. From right--where you’re sitter--to left, it sits Amias, Neysa, Edmond, Brutus and Brutus’ stylist. On the adjacent chair sits Theo.

He won’t look in your direction, it’s humorous.

Caesar starts it almost immediately, beginning with boys. Gloss lands himself an eleven, and Cashmere gets herself a ten, which makes you wonder how badly she messed up during her session. She’s supposed to be a career, not some average moron. Anyone with basic capabilities can get a ten.

Next is Brutus, he gets a nice eleven, which makes you all cheer for him in excitement. You want to hold your breath for your own, but you realize that’s not a reaction you would have. So, instead you give a big smile and lean back, crossing your arms. Confidence will get you out of this.

“District Two, (Y/n) Rosecelli with a score of eleven.” He gives a big smile, and you give a look to Brutus.

“And that is how it’s done!”

Brutus laughs, the two of you lean over for high-fives before going back to watching Caesar. Beetee and Wiress get boringly sad and average scores, but there’s not much to expect from them either. They didn’t do anything that would be entertaining over those three days. They get sevens.

The smile fades from your face once Finnick comes up. Your face straightens out and you lean forward. Brutus notices this, “Interested?”

“I gotta know how easy he’ll be to kill.”

“District Four, Finnick Odair with a score of eleven.” Caesar says, “And District Four, Mags Flannagan with a score of six.”

Finnick’s score is no surprise, but you are a little worried over Mag’s. She could have at least gotten a seven considering she did just about the same that Beetee and Wiress did. You suppose it makes sense in a way, though. She’s not going to be a good fighter, and they have to consider that too.

At least you and Finnick are on the same playing field, but he’ll be torn between protecting himself and Mags. You don’t really want to be the one to kill her, but another matching pair of District Four skulls on your arm is just too tempting.

You bring your arm over, looking at it as Caesar announces the next scores. You’ve got quite a collection. You didn’t kill any of District One’s tributes, but you did kill your district mate because it had come down to you two. If you want to keep traditions, Brutus would have to go on too. You wonder if he knows that part of your history.

It skips over District Three, but you got both from four. None from five or six, but you got the doubles on seven, the guy from eight and the girl from ten--oh, and the girl from twelve that had ran into the cornucopia like a dumbass. The total comes out to eight, which really is quite a lot.

Except that year a ton of people had ran into the cornucopia, more than usual. The girls from ten and twelve, and the boy from four had run in. As for the other five, that same day you took out the boy from eight. Your allies had taken out others, since they wanted at least something they could take credit for.

Four on the first day, and the other four in the span of a week. You were the one with the most kills, you were showered with gifts. No one really stood a chance, not even your district mate. You kept track of the tributes throughout the entire game by carving lines into your arm. The second that the twenty-second guy was dead, you turned on your mate immediately.

It was too quick, it had taken the gamemakers by surprise. The way you turned, grabbed his head with one hand and used your sai’ to stab right through. He crumpled to the ground like a sack of flour, and you stood in the middle of that field, waiting for your crowning.

An entire minute of silence, which made you doubt that you were the winner. You had to count the cuts on your arms to double-check. You had done it each time after you’d heard a cannon, it should be accurate. And while you waited for them to announce your win, after you were sure it was yours, you made that final line.

Obviously they had wanted some fight, looking back on it. The final two should have been easy entertainment, and even sentimental, considering you guys were both from District Two. But there was no hesitation, you were already exhausted from fighting the last guy, and you just wanted it to be over with.

The reason behind why you’d chosen to wipe out the District Four tributes is funny, in some sick way. Of course, your games were right after Finnick’s, and you absolutely hated the way he won. Using his nets to drag people into the water and then uses his trident on them.

It’s the entire reason why you spared nothing for either of the four tributes. You didn’t even fuck with them a little bit like your allies had wanted. You killed them, and you made sure that the cannon had gone off before you’d even bothered to move on. You were so paranoid that they would try something like Finnick had done, again.

As much as people don’t want to admit it, you pay attention to things. Your brain is always turning. You’re keeping track of things, remembering plans and techniques. If you come up across anyone inside of the games, then you’ll know how to act. What they favor more in fights and all that. Not to mention, people like the morphlings and where they like to hide in the trees, what they’re looking for specifically.

It’s a whole ‘nother reason why you’re a perfect candidate. You’re prepared.

Anyway, districts five and six both get that same average score as three. Johanna Mason lands herself a nice ten, and her district mate Blight gets a nine. Not surprising for Johanna, but it is for Blight. Normally guys get higher training scores--and that’s not a sexist thing either.

It’s how your first games went. You had gotten a nine, and it must have been something you’d done during your training days. Unlike other districts, the careers aren’t really told to keep from showing off their skills. In fact, you’re encouraged to. It’s an intimidation tactic to weasel out the weaklings.

And you’re typically ordered to pick your favorites that look like good allies, and after private training day--which is then when you’re able to see the score--you send a formal request for them to be in the alliance. It’s a whole thing, more trouble than it’s actually worth, and it doesn’t happen very often because of it.

District eight through eleven get mainly average scores, there’s a few who stand out more than the others. And then it hits District Twelve.

“District Twelve--” Caesar’s face twists unexpectedly, “--Peeta Mellark, with a score of twelve.”

“What?” you nearly yell, pushing yourself up into a better seating position, “How?”

“That’s--”

“District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen with a score of twelve.”

“That’s impossible.” the blood must have drained from your face, and there’s a faint feeling that overcomes you, “No, no--no!”

No one has ever hit twelve. Twelve is the highest and one is the lowest. People have gotten close to twelve, clearly. You’ve got an eleven and a few others do too, but twelve…

“What did Katniss say to our alliance invitation?” Brutus asks, “Neysa!”

Neysa looks worried too, “Uh--Haymitch told me that she said no, or that she was at least thinking about it.”

You allowed Brutus to send in that request after watching Katniss shoot those arrows, but it was only Brutus that was asking. You weren’t included in it. Had Katniss said yes, she would have been dragged into the alliance altogether, whether you like it or not, you would have had to make friends.

And there’s a very good reason as to why she probably said no. It’s the alliance thing with Finnick, isn’t it?

You pucker your lips, “Neysa I need a moment with you.”

She looks over at you, Caesar Flickerman has long since been forgotten. She nods a little bit, everyone else in the living room looks confused as to why you couldn’t have just said it in front of them too.

You bring Neysa as far as you can manage without making it suspicious. Even then, you’re dropping your voice to a whisper, and turning your back to the living room so Brutus won’t be able to read your lips.

“What is it?”

“Tell the District Four mentors that I want to be allies with Finnick,” you say before you can catch yourself and change your mind, “And I don’t mean for him to join us, I mean for me to join them.”

“Them?” Neysa looks suspicious.

Shit, “Finnick and Mags. What else would I have meant?”

It was a smooth recovery, enough to get her off your back.

“You’d just leave everyone like that?” Neysa doesn’t like this, you can hear it in her tone of voice, “It’s just as much of a dumb idea as running solo is--”

“I just want to see what he says, I don’t have my mind set in stone.” You give her a look, “Neysa, come on.”

“Fine, but you will tell me your plan if it works out like you’re envisioning.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out of the loop.” You tell her.

“Is there anyone else?” she asks.

You think for a moment on who would be dumb enough to accept but smart enough to do it too. A light bulb then goes off, “Peeta Mellark.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter five

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Four (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You reach over, grabbing a hair tie off of the counter. You gather all your hair into your hands before tying it back as tightly as you can manage. In the mirror you check to make sure that it’s straight. When you realize that it’s not, you pull your hair on one side to even it out.

Satisfied, you take a look at yourself from a distance. It’s not a bad look, the whole outfit that they’ve given out for training this year. You’re a big fan of the sports bra option--like you being allowed to wear it all by itself. Of course, you’re sure when the private session comes along, you’re going to have to wear something a little more modest.

But for now, a sports bra and a pair of yoga leggings is definitely something you wouldn’t mind training in. It’s easy to move around, you’re not showing too much skin, and you look good. It isn’t the main goal to look your best, however showing off that you are in good physical shape is a good threat in itself.

It means you’ll be able to handle anything that comes your way. Someone tries to overpower you, you got the muscle to take them down. You could kill one of the tributes just by choking them to death with their thighs. What a way to go down, suffocating in a career’s thighs.

You laugh to yourself as you skip out of the bathroom and head to the main room. Brutus has been waiting for you to be ready. You were about to leave before, but realize that you needed to get your hair up and out of your face if you want to take this entire thing seriously.

You have to draw in other tributes. Get literally anyone confident enough to request you as an ally. It doesn’t even have to include the other three--Brutus, Gloss and Cashmere--if they want just you, you’ll consider. Neysa might have told you to knock the idea of going solo out of your head, but you’re not as stupid as she is.

You’re the one inside of the games. You know what’s best for you. And after all that thinking last night, you’ve come up with a few game plans. The first is that it’s completely possible to make Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus think you’re in on the alliance, but totally bail whenever you feel like it.

You could take at least one of them down before you go. Gloss or Brutus preferably. Sure, Brutus is a district mate, and you should be wanting someone else to take him down, but he’s not a friend. Merely an acquaintance that will get you to where you need to be. Which is hopefully the final ten or less.

What you will not be doing, is creating another alliance in the meantime. You are no idiot, if you’re serious about flying solo. Well, it’s called solo for a reason. One person, only you. You, your special favorite weapon, and maybe even some sponsors if they see that you’re still worthy enough.

You don’t have your mind set on anything just yet, you have plenty of time to make that decision. Five and a half days, to be exact, which is counting today. Half because the morning of the games will most certainly count, up until you get into the arena.

“Took you long enough, for a second I thought you’d died.” Brutus says.

“You’re funny.” you say, “Let’s go.”

“Not yet.” Neysa objects, “I have good news and bad news, which one do you want first?”

She’s sitting at the dining room table, a mug of coffee in her hands even though it’s noon. You would say that it’s ridiculous, but she has the right idea… kinda. She’s going to get wired up on caffeine, which is dumb as fuck. But coffee in District Two is so expensive, and here, it’s for free. She can drink as much as she wants.

The only thing is it’ll come back and bite her in the ass later on, when she realizes that she’s actually addicted to the stuff. Not your problem though, you don’t really care.

“You finally realize that your teeth are turning yellow?” you ask, giving her a cheeky smile when she deadpans, “Good news first.”

“Your necklace was approved, Amias is holding onto it so she can include it in your interview outfit. As for the bad news…” She trails off.

“Spit it out.”

Neysa gives you a smile and a tilted head, “You’ve got your first formal request to have you as an ally.”

Suddenly, it’s your turn to deadpan, “You’re kidding.”

Brutus starts laughing.

“Finnick--”

“Tell him I say no.” You say.

Neysa’s eyes land on Brutus next, “He’s very thorough.”

“I’ll pass.” Brutus says, “Mainly because I don’t want to get on (Y/n)’s bad side. Do you know if he asked Cashmere and Gloss’ mentors too?”

“Probably.” Neysa says.

“Is that it?” you ask.

“Yeah, make friends.” she gives you a pointed look, before going back to whatever she was doing.

You and Brutus leave the apartment, heading over to the elevator. The ride down is quiet, and it’s brief since you guys are so close to the training floor. The doors open, you two step out and take the short walk down the hallway, and into the room.

You’re almost overwhelmed at the new sight of everything. It’s definitely new, you’ll give it that. The weapons are shiny, polished and unscratched, which will definitely change by the end of these three days. The concrete floor isn’t scuffed. The entire room smells of plastic, brand fucking new.

“Where to start…” you trail off, looking around the room to see who’s here.

Johanna Mason, she’s got her hands on an axe, you’ll skip over her. Cashmere and Gloss are working together at some station. Your eyes concentrate on it more to see that there’s something orange that’s moving.

“What the hell--?” you leave Brutus behind as you start over to where Cashmere and Gloss are.

As you get closer, you can see that the orange things are people. There’s a beam on them, tracking them as they move. It isn’t until you’re right in front of them, when the word clicks.

“Holograms!” you gasp, the trainer standing nearby smiles widely and nods.

“Yes, new technology was installed. Would you like to try?” she asks, moving aside and motioning to the station next to her.

You make a face, “I’d rather do hand-to-hand combat right now, I’ll swing by later after lunch.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” she says.

Brutus comes over, standing next to you. Cashmere and Gloss finish up what they’re doing, and when they turn to look at you guys, they’ve hardly broken a sweat. It looks like you’re not the only one in amazing physical condition.

“Welcome.” Cashmere looks you over, obviously hesitant, “Nice to see you again.”

“Save the bitchiness for someone who cares.” You say, “Unless you’re trying to get on my nerves again.”

“I’ll tread lighter, then.”

Gloss glances over you very briefly, as if he’s trying not to be insulting. When his eyes land on Brutus, they do the whole guy thing. You’re bored of it, and spend some time looking over the room again.

Plenty of stations to work with, but your mind is suddenly settled on working on the uneven ground, with a man that is clearly dressed for fighting. Without a word to the others, you leave them behind.

Wiress and Beetee are here, working at some fire starting station. One over sits Cecelia all by herself, you have no idea what she’s doing. She gives you a look as you pass, clearly not knowing what to think of you staring. All you can think about is how easy it’ll be able to kill her and her district mate. They’re out of practice, too old now.

One last look before you make it to the guy in black gear tells you that Finnick is here with Mags, but they��re in two different places. Mags is at some podium that’s a white light, moving her hands. Her eyebrows are drawn together seriously as she focuses. As for Finnick, you can clearly see the rope in his hand. He sits on a cement bench, legs spread with his elbows on his thighs. Just as focused as Mags is.

Enough with the ogling.

You pick up a staff, spinning it in your hand, looking over the man, “We practice?”

“Yes.” he says, picking up his own black staff.

“Are you actually allowed to hit me?” you step onto the first blue block, but get a look at all the rest, trying to memorize it so when you’re walking backwards, you’ll know where to step.

It’s not a bad design, it’s actually fairly realistic. You never know when something will drop off into a hole. What they should’ve added is slopes too, because that would have been the absolute worst. There’s nothing like having your footing slip, and even falling because you weren’t standing properly.

You’re all for realism.

“I can tap you, and that’s about it.” he tells you.

“Well, I expect you not to go easy.” you turn to look down at him, spinning the staff around in your hand a final time, “Otherwise, you will find yourself on your ass.”

There’s a moment of silence between you two, as you slam the pole onto the blue blocks to get it to stop moving, “Challenge accepted.”

He swings first, which is an easy block. Two hands on the staff, you shove him backwards when he connects with yours. To give him a fair chance, and to test out your memory, you begin to back up. There’s a dip behind you--correct. You shuffle your foot back again, it should be going up--correct.

He gets up while he cans, and you try to take him down with the chance you got. You swing in from the right, making sure he’s paying attention, before you half-circle, and nearly slam the staff on his helmet. He catches you just in time for it not too be bad, you’re sure that move would have made him see stars.

With an attempt to push you back that fails, he swings at your ankles. Another incline behind you--correct. You jump onto it briefly to get out of the way, and then get back down. You’re not sure if it’s against the rules or not, but you slam your foot against the square of his chest.

He stumbles back, and since it’s a decline, he falls.

It’s like a turtle on its back, he almost can’t get up. You sneer, dropping down the couple of steps as you offer your hand for him to take. You pull him up and onto his feet.

In the short time of your fighting, there’s been newcomers. District Nine’s very own drunk is puking at the entrance. Peeta is standing next to Brutus, making conversation, and Katniss Everdeen is giving you a look up and down.

You raise your eyebrows at her, then turn back to the guy to give him a pat on the arm, “I told you not to go easy.”

“How was I supposed to know you’d donkey kick me?”

“Pay more attention to the areas you leave open.” you tell him, “Although, I would have kicked the staff too. But that’s neither here nor there. Wanna go again, or do you need a moment?”

“Definitely need a second,” he says, sitting on a block.

In the meantime, you get up and onto the blocks, swinging the staff around in circles with one hand. You’ll stop it, try different positions to fight with. Having your back to the higher and lower blocks is a fun challenge to work with, but the high ground is an unfair advantage. You wonder what would happen if he tried it instead.

You don’t get the chance to ask.

“So what did you tell your mentor?”

You roll your eyes before you even see him, “You’re impossible to get rid of.”

You take a seat on the block you're standing on, which is conveniently the highest one. With your legs dangling over the side, you could kick Finnick in the face if he got close enough. You kinda hope he tests fate with that idea.

However, he must be a mind reader, because he takes a couple of steps back. It could very well be because he wants to be able see your entire face. No matter how far back he stands, though, he’ll never be eye to eye with you. To you, he just gets smaller and smaller. You wish he’d trip over something and embarrass himself.

“What have I ever done to you?” Finnick asks.

“Nothing, thank god.” you look him up and down, “Your existence is enough to set me off.”

“That’s unfair.”

“Life is unfair. Not everyone has to be pleased with your presence.”

Finnick smiles a little bit, “Oh, I know.”

“I don’t know why you’re so insistent with me in particular. There’s other girls for you to try and swoon.” you motion, “Johanna, Cecelia, Wiress, Katniss.”

“Katniss is seventeen.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” you ask, tilting your head.

You remind yourself of something again. A fairytale character this time… what is his name--annoying personality. He’s cryptic, which is an opposite for you. But nobody really likes him, do they? Purple, an animal…

The cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. Yes, that’s right. You only know about him because it was one of the stories your mom used to read to you before bed as a child. One of your favorites. The cheshire cat was the one that brought you in the most. As well as the Queen of Hearts. You’ve always had a thing for villainous characters.

“I don’t associate with minors, (Y/n).” Finnick says.

“That’s right, because you have a girlfriend.”

His face darkens at the mention of her.

You decide to avoid that conversation, because you have a staff in your hand, and you’d certainly be able to hit him hard enough to give him a concussion, “Back to your original question, no, I’m not going to be your ally.”

Finnick looks relieved at the topic switch, “Is it because of your distaste for me?”

“You really could have anyone in this room be your ally, and yet you choose me. Why is that?” you ask, “Is it because I’m mean or difficult?”

“I’m just curious on how well the alliance would be able to hold up in the arena.” Finnick tilts his head, mirroring your own, “How fast you would try to kill me.”

“Immediately.”

“You’re telling me that I haven’t grown on you at least a little, now? After all the conversations we’ve had.”

You hold up three fingers on your left hand, and use your right index finger to push on them one at a time, “The first one, I called you a cynical prick, the second I was forced to apologize for being too mean and hurting your crybaby feelings, and you’re telling me that this one isn’t any better?”

“Crybaby feelings?”

You make a mock sad face and voice, “So you didn’t run off to cry to your mentors?”

“You did try to hit me, after all.” Finnick says, straightening his head again and shrugging, “They wanted to know what happened.”

“Right, sure.”

Finnick smiles, “You’re cute, you know that.”

You can feel a button pressed instantly, because your body begins heating up in a bad way. You’re not embarrassed, you’re infuriated because he’d associate a word like that with you. You’re not cute.

Finnick must’ve recognized his mistake with how red your face is. It feels like it’s on fire, and you’re suddenly glaring at him, “Listen, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down before you send the staff flying at his abdomen, “I am not cute. No matter the way you mean it, I’m not a cute person, and I never will be.”

Finnick nods, “I guess what I should have said is that you’re funny.”

“Funny how?” you ask, “Funny because I get mad so easily?”

“That and the fact that you also think you’re unlikable. Here’s a newsflash for you: you’re not.”

“People pretend to like me because they know what happens when they don’t.” you lean forward, “I’m sure you can take a solid guess on what I mean.”

“What, you threaten to kill everyone you don’t like?”

“You’ve been on my list for a pretty long time now.” you say, “I’m lucky that I finally get to fall through on that.”

“Who else is on your list?” he asks, “Genuine question.”

“Everyone who has ever done me wrong.” You say simply.

“Give me an example,” he says, and then adds, “Besides myself.”

“For starters--” you turn to where Katniss is sitting with Wiress and Beetee, you’d noticed that she went over there a while ago. She’s making allies while she can. She’s lucky, she’s got a clean slate and no enemies or friends in here, or so she thinks, “--her.”

“What has she done?” Finnick looks amused.

You smile a little bit, “I’m not one to fight for spotlight, but this year is different.”

“Because you think you’re going to win?” Finnick looks a little more serious now.

“I know I am. And it’ll all work out once I get rid of the only threats. You can identify those on your own, right?” you ask, rolling the staff back and forth over your thighs, “I didn’t volunteer because I thought I could win. I volunteered because I know I can.”

Finnick doesn’t look too pleased with what you had to say, but that’s fine with you. As long as it finally sinks into his brain that you’re not messing around. He should stop trying to treat you like a toy and more like an enemy.

However, he could be trying to reel you in to make you like him in hopes that you’ll space some sort of mercy on him when you do come across him in the arena. He’s stupid if he is thinking that route.

“So, you, Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus in an alliance?” his eyes drift over to them, you give a glance over your shoulder yourself, curious on what they’re up to.

They’re staring at you guys all the same. There’s a smile on Brutus’ face, and you can practically hear him teasing you now over this, ‘oh, I thought you hated him, change your mind?’. As the other two morons will probably ask if this means that he can be invited to the alliance as if they really want him in.

They’d probably ask just to irritate you.

“What do you think?” you ask.

“I wonder where my invitation is at.” Finnick looks at you now.

“You think we’re going to invite you, when you’re clearly going to drag in Mags? Yeah, you’d be just as bad as Peeta.”

This is new to Finnick, his eyebrows skyrocket upwards at the statement, “What?”

“Peeta is practically dead already, look at how useless he is.”

Peeta is with Johanna now, Johanna is still swinging her axe around, but Peeta stands at a distance, talking to her. You have to admit, he’s got good taste in picking people out as friends. But they’re smarter than he is, they’ll know not to pick him. He’s got no useful skills. He brings nothing to the table.

“Does he even know how to fight?” you laugh.

“Big talk.” Finnick says, his body is halfway turned to stare at Peeta.

“No, just common sense.” you say, “What about you, Mister Cynical, any alliances?”

Finnick looks at you now, you’re assuming it’s because of the nickname, “No, not yet. I was hoping you’d accept my offer to kickstart it.”

“I doubt that you don’t have any alliances by now. No Johanna or Blight? Or are you teamed up with Katniss and Peeta?” you study Finnick’s face to see his reaction, “Or perhaps, both?”

“Stop that.” he snaps at you.

It’s your turn to be surprised, you lean back, sucking in your bottom lip with a smile, “Both it is. It’s nice to know who to look out for and avoid. Now I’ll know that where one goes--the others will follow. I need to know one more thing though, before I end this conversation.”

Finnick looks up at you again.

“Were you inviting me into the alliance because you want me to fight alongside you guys, or because you wanted to trap me and be able to take me out first?”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, you two stare at each other for a long moment. You know you’re not going to get your answer, so you push yourself up, using the staff as a helper.

“Hey, you don’t have to answer, I’ll be finding out soon enough, eh?” you swing the staff between your fingers, “I will be keeping this convo to myself, though. So don’t worry about it.”

You slam the staff into the block again before turning yourself around to go and get the trainer guy back on his feet. He’s had more than enough time to recover from his tumble.

“I’m ready to go again.” you tell him, “Get up higher than me.”

The man stands, taking his staff and going up the uneven blocks. The problem now, is that he’ll be fighting both you, and the ability to navigate the terrain. The only advantage he has, is that he’ll be able to get you from better angles, and you’ll be working with experimentation moves.

You start with slipping the left side of the staff between his feet, then quickly push with the right. When his foot goes up, you reach over with your free hand to pull his knee out.

He looks like he’s about to buckle, kicking your face in the meantime, but you dodge it, and he catches his footing. After that, he swings at your head from the right, making you duck. The two of you go back and forth for a while. You’ll swing, he dodges, and then vice versa.

It isn’t until you’re about twenty minutes in, when you start to break a sweat from it. You’re on a good streak, until you get distracted by everyone else moving towards the bow and arrow area. Because of this, the man swings too hard and catches you in the side of the head.

You stumble, placing your hand on the area, but brushing it off when he tries to apologize. You’re interested in something else now. You tell him that you don’t want medical attention, getting down the blocks and shoving the staff into the holder.

Brutus lags a little when he sees that you’re going to join them, “Katniss is firing arrows.”

“Huh.” you jog up, “Is she any good?”

“Take a look for yourself.”

Basically everyone who’s attended training today, is here. Mags and Gloss stand up close. Brutus is to your right, Seeder stands behind you, Chaff is behind Johanna. While to your left is Cashmere, Wiress and Beetee. Behind them stands Peeta.

And beside you? Finnick Odair.

There’s a big enough gap between Mags and Johanna, allowing you to see right through. All of Katniss’ movements are smooth. The way she moves around the mat, how quick she is to pull arrows. She knows where the holograms are going to be before they’re even there.

Deadly.

“So,” Finnick starts, “Still want to be allied with them?”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter four

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Chapter Thirteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 6.8k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

This is happening. This is happening.

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you’ve woken up inside of the training center and been told to be a loyalist, and you’re already breaking that. Snow thought that he had a single shred of control over you, and underestimated you in the worst way possible. He really thought that you wouldn’t have any connections to people here.

And if all of this goes well, it won’t be the last time you’ll spit in Snow’s face. After this, you might just have to do it with every chance that you get. You’ll do damn near anything to keep putting salt in the already gouged wound. No matter what it takes, he’ll stay down.

If he thought he hated you before, he’s about to have a whole new thing coming. You’ve never followed directions very well in the first place. No one can control you for long, because you’re nothing to be controlled. Trying to make you submissive is like putting a leash on a lion, it’s not going to end well.

It’ll work for as long as you want it to, before it all goes to shit. It’s what happened when Snow sold you around in the Capitol and you found a way out. And now, you’re doing the exact same thing. Snow thinks that he doesn’t have any cracks for you to slip through, but there were too many.

He should have sent a brigade of peacekeepers with you if he wanted to keep you from straying. But he couldn’t afford it, not with all the other districts fighting back. He needs his toy soldiers right in front of his big mansion to keep him safe. He’s a fucking joke.

“Anxious?” Lyme asks.

You give her a glance, before looking back up to the sky, “Not even close.”

You’re excited--thrilled, actually. You can’t wait to get on that hovercraft with the volunteers. They might not like you at first, but they will have to admit that you’re not what they think you are. They see a District Two victor, spoiled and rich. But they’ll realize that you’re just like them, just a bit bitchier.

You’ll get to know everyone that you need to when you’re on the hovercraft. You’ll learn their ages and their importance to the people back in thirteen. Because of this, you will do your very best to protect them. Even if they’re better trained with guns, you know combat as well as the streets of your hometown.

The likeliness of you getting hurt is huge. There were a ton of people around that floor you had woken up on. Going in and out of rooms, any of them could be trained with guns. But that’s no reason to get discouraged.

“It’s weird to see the city blacked out like this.” Lyme says.

Something must have gone wrong in District Five, since the entire Capitol is as black as the night sky. Five is the main source of power that runs through the Capitol and most of the districts. They have a dam in the district, water runs through it and it generates power. However, no dam equals no power.

So, you can take a solid guess on what they might have done to take it down.

You wish you could congratulate the people that ruined the power-making source, because it was the perfect window that you guys needed to pull this off. Since there’s no power, the Capitol’s defense is automatically down. Coin managed to get a few volunteers ready, and sent the hovercraft on it’s way to you, an hour or so ago.

You guys just got the message that they’ll be here soon, which is why you’re out here now.

“Let’s hope it stays like that.” you say, “For at least another hour.”

“Think it’ll take that long?” Lyme asks.

You look at Lyme, “If everything goes as planned, yes.”

The feeling of air moving down on you, makes you look up. The black hovercraft moves over the stores, before settling on the pavement in front of you guys, slowly. Even then, it’s only hovering. Just like how the Capitol had dropped you off here.

“Be safe.” Lyme says.

“Right.” you pat her shoulder, “Thank you for this opportunity.”

You head towards the hovercraft right after they drop the ramp down, allowing you to join whoever is inside. Someone is waiting a few inches from the drop, and they help you up. Before the door is shut, you give Lyme one last wave, then you back up.

The second that it’s shut, the hovercraft raises again. It feels the same as the elevators do inside of the training center. The slight dizzy feeling comes over your body, and then it settles and you feel better.

“(Y/n).” you offer your hand to the guy that helped you up, “Thanks.”

“Gale.” he shakes his briefly, and then he points to a hook on the wall with gear, “This is for you.”

You laugh, “I was expecting to go in there wearing just this.”

You’re still wearing the pink shirt--which is not ruined thanks to your string pulling--and black jeans. You didn’t actually think that thirteen would be providing the gear.

Gale laughs somewhat, “Put it on, it’ll only be ten minutes or so before we’re inside.”

“I’m aware.” you say, “I’ve taken this trip before.”

Everyone who’s sitting inside doesn’t really pay attention as you pull everything on. Instead, they’re listening to a very familiar voice. The one that annoys you the most in the world.

“Finnick?” you ask, attaching the velcro on the bulletproof vest.

“Yeah, he’s providing a distraction for us,” Gale tells you, “The entire Capitol is seeing and hearing him, thinking it’s regular propaganda. But it’s jamming the defense signals.”

“Beetee?” you ask next, Gale nods.

It takes a few minutes until you’re completed suited up like they are. It’s heavy to move around in, but the more you walk around the hovercraft--which looks exactly like the ones they use to put trackers in--it starts to feel…

Tracker.

You hold your right arm out, staring at it.

You don’t know if it’s out or not. And if it’s not, then Snow definitely knows that you’re on your way if it’s still working. They normally take out the trackers once the tribute has won the games, but you didn’t win--no one did. They could have very well left it in to monitor where you’re at all times of the day.

You begin to undo the work you’ve done, “I need a knife.”

“For what?”

“I think I still have my tracker.” you say, digging through the pockets on the belt before you find a pocket knife.

You pull out some rubber string, which Gale ties around your elbow as tightly as he can. You also bring out all the gauze and medical tape that’s supplied with the outfit that you were given. Just so as soon as you’re done, you’ll be able to cover it up and not bleed out.

“Why didn’t you do this before?”

“Trust me, if I had thought about it before, I would have taken it out.” you look at Gale, and then the others, “The inside of the hovercraft reminds me of the drop ship for the games.”

You flick open the knife, pressing your arm firmly against the steel floor. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you slowly let it out through your mouth.

You’ve been through much worse. This is going to be a walk in the park.

“Alright.” you say, digging the knife into your arm.

It’s specifically over the place where the tracker lands after the injection. It doesn’t normally move from this one place the entire time, it’s secure. Which means that you’ll be cutting through valuable skin and muscle and maybe even hit bone--

You gag for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut, allowing the tears that had sprung, to run down your face. You take a moment, a deep breath, and then you set the knife down, plunging your fingers inside of your arm.

“I’m fine.” you say, “It’s right here.”

You pull out the white tracker, which is covered in your blood. Gale takes it from you, stomping on it, allowing the beeping to stop. As soon as it’s over, he begins to help you bandage up your arm.

“Mockingjay one, mockingjay one, you are one minute out from perimeter defense.”

“Going dark.” the girl flicks off the lights, but there’s still an orange glow.

Gale finishes up bandaging your arm after that, and you pack away what little supplies are left.

“Stay low incase they are online.”

You take a seat next to Gale, crossing your legs. To distract yourself, you spend the time counting your fingers over and over.

Your arm hurts like hell, and digging into your arm and the amount of blood that also came out is no help to you. It makes you nauseous, which never happens. You really screwed it up for yourself when you thought about digging in your arm. Had you just thought of nothing, then you wouldn’t be feeling sick right now.

“Mockingjay one, you are twenty seconds out from perimeter defense.”

You close your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat.

One of the pilots starts counting down from ten, which is an easy way to make you feel anxious. You take in a deep breath and hold it when he hits one.

“No response from perimeter defense, we’re inside Capitol airspace.”

You breathe out, laughing a little to yourself.

“Gear up.” a man tells you all, standing up from where he was sitting. He then looks directly at you, “I’m Boggs, I’ll be leading the mission.”

“I’m still showing you guys the way?” you ask, and he nods.

“But I’m the one giving orders.”

You tilt your head from side to side, “Yeah, I expected that.”

He goes and hades up front, while the rest of you load the guns. Yours is already done, so there’s not much to do there. You more or less pocket it, and spend the rest of the time staring at the way you’ll be leading.

“Switching to nightview.” The hovercraft officially goes dark after that. The only light in the entire ship is coming from the front of the plane.

“There.” Bogg says.

“We have a visual of the tribute center.”

Tribute center? Is that what they call it?

It’s always been the training center to you guys--or maybe that’s supposed to be the name for the training room only. Tribute center just sounds weird to you. They might have just renamed it after the entire remodel.

“Initiating final approach.”

Boggs comes down the couple of steps, being sure to watch his head, “Masks on.”

You unhook the gas mask from the belt, looking over it for a moment to see the way it should go on, and how the straps on the back will work. When you’re done, you pull it on like the others, and continue to readjust it until it feels right on your face.

“Helmets too.”

Not like you have much choice, you put that on too. It feels like a bicycle helmet, and the only reason as to why you know what they feel like, is because you owned a cream-colored bike for half a year when you were in elementary school. Eventually someone stole it out of your backyard, which was a huge bummer. What was even worse was that you found it being sold in the black market--which is just a few tents set up sellings goods for cheap--at an unreasonable price.

Meaning you weren’t able to buy it back because they had ramped up the price. You sat and watched people walk past it all day, until some rich butcher’s wife bought it for their son. Two days later, when you saw him in school, you bullied him until he sold the bike for scraps.

If you couldn’t have it, then no one could.

“Open the door.”

The ramp opens up, and sure enough, you can see the glass ceiling of the tribute center. You inch closer, trying to get a good look. The entire place is blacked out, just like the rest of the city. The hovercraft--or jet, you’re not sure at this point--has a flashlight aimed down andonto the building.

Which, if you may say, is a perfect way to give away your guys’ position entirely.

“Command, this is team leader. Prepared to deploy gas, we will confirm what’s inside.”

They sent canisters of gas hurling at the glass, which breaks it. After the first one, comes the second one. The noise is loud, you can hear it from where you’re standing, which means that other people have too.

If there’s anyone staying inside of this building as a vacation, since Capitol people are nuts like that, then they have every clue that you guys are here. And even with all this knowledge, you keep your mouth shut.

“When this timer is up, you’ll hook these metal lines to yourself.” Boggs motions, his eyes are on you, “Then we’ll go down.”

“Sounds good to me.” you tell him.

“You’ll be going last.” he says.

You shrug, not really caring.

You all wait a couple of seconds, and you spend the time looking into the abyss. It’s dark as hell down there, and it’s a long way down. If you even as much miss the hook and where it’s supposed to land on your suit of armor, you’re fucked. You’ll go flying down and become concrete jelly.

The sick feeling arises again, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Get ready to drop.” Boggs says, hooking the wire to himself the same time as Gale does.

And without a moment of hesitation, he just jumps. You gape at the two of them, and you’re even more amazed when the other four follow without a problem. As soon as they’re out of the way, you reach for your own hook and wire.

Your hands are shaking badly, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself. You tug on the wire to make sure it’s secure, and then you jump.

The good news is, the wire lowers you much faster than you thought it would. It’s not like jumping out of an airplane and pulling a parachute. It’s a much easier drop than that. You spend the little time you have above the tribute center looking at the blacked out city. There’s hundreds of people that probably have their eyes on you right now.

And then you’re engulfed by the building, which has basically a hundred floors--maybe more. It’s almost the tallest building inside of the Capitol. Mostly cause of how much purpose this place holds. All the apartments for the tributes, mentors and Capitol guides. The training center--both public and private--the stage where Caesar interviews, the grooming rooms, the getting ready rooms, the storage and whatnot. It’s got a lot of reasons to be as big as it is.

Someone looks up to make sure you’re there. You’re about six feet, maybe more, above them. You give a thumbs up, before going back to watching the floors whizz by. To be getting inside of the tribute center like this, is a whole new experience. You never thought you’d be coming inside of the most useless place ever in the Capitol like it’s a heist.

They land on their feet just fine, and you bend your knees a little to make the impact better. As soon as you’re done, you unhook the wire just like the rest of them. Then, you head right over to Boggs.

You don’t pull out your gun for a couple of seconds, having to switch on the light manually. In the meantime, you feed off of everyone else’s red light to see what’s around you. And it’s peacekeepers, passed out on the floor.

Maybe deploying the gas wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Clear.” someone says.

And then a few seconds later, “Clear. Command we’re inside, heading towards target number one. Cell P45 lower level 2C.”

Two people move forward at the door, Boggs orders them to get the gas ready. They peek in, throw in a canister, and then back off. It’s a long couple of seconds while you wait for it to administer. They kick the door open when the time is up, and you move in.

As you guys go down the staircase, you begin to realize that you weren’t on the base floor after all, when you had been brought down here. You were actually underground, and it was some sort of facade. Which makes you a little uneasy, and unsure of the fact that you’ll be able to retrace your steps exactly.

At the bottom of the stairs, you’re asked to start leading the way to where they are. Boggs is right next to you as you wind through the rooms. Along the way, they’re still throwing gas canisters down the hallways to knock out the peacekeepers. When you had been brought here, there were none.

It was only you and the avox. There were a few ‘doctors’ and ‘nurses’ that you passed by on the way, but that was about it. After the room with the cages, the only person you saw was Snow.

You guess that there could have very well been people inside of the rooms with Peeta and Johanna. It would explain their looks of terror right before the window of glass was blocked off each time. It signified the beginning of their torture again, and you had no clue that it was happening.

You didn’t hear anything coming from them, actually. Even though the walls were relatively thin, you didn’t hear a single thing. If they had tried yelling for your name, you were clueless.

You stop in front of a set of double doors that have a lock on them. Something that would need a keycard to open. You remember this, the avox had swiped her card and the door opened immediately after.

“Through here.” you say, moving aside.

The place where she swiped the card is completely black, instead of red. You place your hand on the machine, curious to feel the vibration of the electronic at work, but it’s still. There’s no electricity in this place.

They all gather around the door. Gale opens it just a crack, Boggs tosses his gas instead in the brief moment, and all of you wait for a moment as it gets to work.

If you remember correctly, it’s only a little bit from here. Not a long walk. The hallway is confusing, but the path they’re insisting to take isn’t that bad. They’re taking shortcuts, which--obviously--cuts out the confusing parts. Takes you right to the hallway with the cages.

“Gale.” Boggs says, getting his attention.

After that, they push into the room, and you nearly shove your way to the front.

The room is set up like it was the first time, but it’s void of all people. The white tables with the tubes and medical waste. It’s clearly where the ‘doctors’ were getting their supplies to use against Peeta, Johanna and Tanith.

You follow behind Boggs, as you all move through the room silently. He brings you right to a table with all sorts of metal clamps and tools you’d use for surgery. You tilt your head, moving forward to get a better look.

There’s gauze with blood on it. Tubes with some black-red liquid. It could very well be blood, but you have no clue as to why they’d need so much of it. Ten tubes, all the length of a water bottle, but as wide as a quarter. Not to mention the used syringes.

Boggs moves on, still looking around, “What is this place?”

“Headquarters.” you say.

The immediate second after, the lights to the room flicker on, and there’s a loud static in your ears. You drop to a crouch, leaving one knee down as you grab for your ears. They’re covered by the helmet though, so you’re really just pressing the helmet against your ears to make the noise stop.

You clench your teeth together, and then decide that it’s not worth the head protection. You unclip the clasps, and yank out the ear piece. Then, you blink as fast as you can to get away the spots in your eyes from the sudden light. As you slowly begin to regain your sight, you look around.

Everyone is still dealing with the noise, it’s just you. You risk a peak above the table to see if anyone has come into the room. Slowly, just a bit as a time. You can feel your legs begin to shake from the pressure. When you see that there’s no one, you stand fully.

You place the helmet onto the table, scanning the corners of the rooms for any cameras.

There are none. No one should know that you’re here.

“Rosecelli--” Boggs begins.

“I know, my helmet.” you say bitterly, giving him a look, “It’s the only way I could get the earpiece out.”

“Did you know the lights are automatic?” he asks.

“They’re not.” You motion to the lightswitch by the door you guys came in through, “Which means that the Capitol is getting power again.”

Obviously, this makes everyone uneasy. Boggs starts trying to contact the command in District Thirteen. While you put your earpiece back in, and then the helmet on top of that. You move around the room, picking things up and turning them over in your hand.

“How far are they from here?” Gale asks you.

“We’re basically there already.” you say.

“Boggs, come in. Can you hear me?” it’s Beetee’s voice.

“Copy.” Boggs says, you can hear the audible breaths of relief coming from the people around you, “Command, I need a situation report.”

“Boggs, we’re running out of time. Hurry.” Beetee says.

You start moving towards the door that will lead you out and into the hallway of cages. Boggs come beside you to keep you safe, “Let’s move.”

The door opens, and there it is, the cages. You let Boggs go first, and as you go by each open door, you close them a little to allow the people behind you more room to pass through.

At the next door, Boggs and Gale set up the gas canister system again. Gale opens the door just wide enough to allow the can to go through, and then the doors are shut immediately after. Boggs holds up his finger, probably counting in his head, before you’re all allowed to go through.

Everyone moves in slowly, but you head to the door on your left, peering inside. Only to find out that he’s not in there.

“045, (Y/n).” Gale reminds you.

“He was in here before.” you say back, “I don’t know why they would move him.”

“Command, we’re at the first target. Preparing to extract Peeta, we’ll confirm when he’s in hand.”

Ignoring them, you head straight to Tanith’s room. No one follows you over, since they’re so fixated on getting Peeta out first. He’s the most important after all, Katniss’ lover and whatnot. It would make sense that he’s first priority on supreme leader Coin’s list.

You grab the doorknob gently, carefully opening it because you don’t want her to wake up to you barging in the room. Her head is off to the side, eyes closed with her mouth slightly open. You slowly move inside, waiting for her to jolt awake at the noise that your shoes make against the tile.

But she’s unmoving entirely. You reach out to touch her one second, but the next you’re stopping yourself, studying her for a moment longer.

This allows yourself to realize just how wrong she looks. Her brown skin has been washed of all color, she’s completely pale. Her chest doesn’t rise as fall as she breathes, it’s still. Just the same as the rest of her body, she’s limp.

“No.” you touch her now, only to feel just how cold she is, she’s been gone for a long time, “No, Tanith--please!” Tears spring in your widened eyes as you shake your head, “Hey, baby…”

You move her head in your direction, trying to get her slouched body to sit up a little higher. She moves without any resistance, the muscles in her neck don’t tense up at the move.

Your throat suddenly feels tight as your lips tremble. You pull Tanith closer to your body, “This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. He couldn’t have known--it’s impossible.

Her head is pressed against your chest as you hug it, staring at the wall across from you. You press your fingers against her neck, closing your eyes now as you pray that they gave her some sort of drug that would make her feel and look dead. But no matter how many times you readjust your fingers, you never get a pulse.

You take in a deep breath, but it doesn’t stay long. You let out shaky sobs, shaking your head when you reopen your eyes. Through the blur of tears, you’re finally able to acknowledge the whiteboard that’s on the wall across from you. It’s organized with neat handwriting. It takes you a moment to be able to read it.

“Tanith Nuova…” you trail off, trying to swallow the frog in your throat after you read ahead, “Time of death--ten forty-five.”

You look down at her, running your fingers through her tangled hair.

She couldn’t have died at ten, that’s impossible. When you came and saw her with Snow, she was in the chair, alive. She didn’t look well, her head was off to the side and… and she’s been dead the entire time.

Snow showed you her dead body, because you wouldn’t know the difference. He knew that you would be too panicky to realize she wasn’t breathing, or that she was paled entirely. All you would be able to see was her in the chair, enduring the same torture as the others.

It’s why there was no one in the room with her. No one to block out your view so they could give her whatever drugs they were giving to the others.

“(Y/n), is she ready to go?” Boggs asks.

You look over, mouth hanging open slightly. You don’t want to say the words out loud, you just want him to figure it out on his own.

Boggs looks between you, Tanith and then the whiteboard. You watch as his face relaxes, and he turns to look behind him. He says something that you aren’t able to hear, and the chatter outside the door quiets considerably.

“I’ll do it.” someone volunteers.

“Thank you.” Boggs says, looking back at you, “We have to go, we’ve lost contact with command. It’s only a matter of time before the defense systems are back online.”

“What about…” you motion with one hand.

One of the guys comes into the room, “I’ll carry her. We can bury her back in District Thirteen.”

You nod a little bit. The guy wants to pull her over his shoulder, so you do everything you can to help him. His arm is wrapped around the back of her knees, while her head and arms dangle behind him. You touch her hair again, trying not to burst out crying again.

You all have to leave after that, retracing your steps to the courtyard. You walk beside Annie and Johanna, while Peeta is up front next to Gale. None of you say anything as you watch Tanith sway from side to side from the man walking. You shake your head.

“He’s done it again.” you whisper, “Snow’s gotten everything I’ve ever loved.”

Boggs and Gale have to throw more gas canisters to knock out the peacekeepers you passed the first time. You all mostly try to walk around the peacekeepers, but Johanna makes an effort of kicking every single one she passes by. Mainly in the throat, or in the crotch. Anything she feels like and can reach.

The walk back is much easier and quicker. Time flies, and before you know it, you’re already in the stairwell. The guy that holds Tanith on his shoulder doesn’t struggle at all while he goes up. He has one hand on her legs, and the other on the railing to keep him balanced, which is reasonable.

Just before the courtyard, they throw another canister. A couple seconds pass by, and then you guys leave the stairwell. There’s already a cot waiting for you guys out here. Boggs orders Peeta to go up first, and then to double it, Johanna has to get on it too.

While they’re being pulled up, two of the volunteers hook themselves up to the free wires, and they’re pulled up and into the sky themselves. Then, the cot is sent down with two more wires, allowing Annie to get on the cot right next to Tanith. Annie promises that she’ll do her best to keep Tanith from falling, but she has to turn her head away.

“Go up.” Boggs tells you, hooking the wire to your body.

The guy that had been carrying Tanith is pulled up with you. You spend your time going up, just staring at the ground below you. As they turn into small specks, and the floors start passing you by faster and faster.

At the top, you’re helped out of the air by one of the volunteers that are already up here. You get unhooked, and you’re directed back to where you were sitting before. Peeta and Johanna sit across from you, Tanith’s body is on the floor, and Annie is up against the wall all the way to your right.

“I’m sorry.” Peeta’s voice is faint, and when you look up at him, he looks as grave as you feel.

“Yeah.” you say, taking off the gas mask, and then the helmet.

Everyone else is brought into the hovercraft jet, and the ramp is closed up. They go back to their respective spots, and you guys have the pleasure of knowing that the Capitol has power again, and the defense looks like it’s back online. There’s absolutely no communication passing between the pilots and the command center in District Thirteen, either.

You guys could die, and it would be celebrated by the Capitol.

“Do you want to go back to District Two?” Boggs asks, “We can make a quick stop.”

Your eyes trail down to Tanith, “I’d only want to bury her.”

“We can try to talk to Lyme or Paylor.” One of the pilots up front offers, “If we get past the defense, maybe our signals will clear up.”

You nod, “I just don’t want to be there.”

You lean your head back after that, closing your eyes.

You listen to the pilots talking back and forth with each other, until Boggs or Gale joins in. But for the most part, the ride is quiet. Johanna, Peeta and Annie don’t speak, probably because they don’t know what to say. The other volunteers just watched you sob over a body.

This mission may be a success to everyone else, but it isn’t for you. The only reason why you had pushed so hard for this to come true, is because of Tanith. You wanted to get Tanith someplace safe, and now she’s...

Forget everything you said about Snow not being able to control you, or losing his footing when it comes to things. He knew what he was doing the whole time, he knew that you’d fall for it, it was just a matter of time before you realized that it was all lies.

Snow’s won, again. He’s taken everything that there was to take. You’ve got nothing anymore. The only person that he might consider going after is Finnick, and he’s not even yours. And you can’t even bring yourself to care about him, because he’s not yours to take away from. He belongs to Annie, and he’s out of the hands of the Capitol for now.

“We’re fifteen minutes out from District Two.” one of the pilots says.

You sigh.

“Alright, let’s get two nurses and a doctor on Peeta. As for Johanna, just a nurse. Same thing for Annie, and let’s go.” The doctor says, beginning to walk off, but then she hesitates when she sees you, “Are you a tribute?”

“No, I wasn’t rescued from the tribute center.”

“You’re not--” she flips through some papers, “--Tanith Nuova?”

“No.” you say, “We dropped her body off in District Two.”

You hope that enough for her to understand that there is no more Tanith. It takes a moment, until it registers in the doctor’s mind. She finds something to change the conversation to, relatively quickly after that.

“We should get your arm checked out.”

“Sure.” you mumble.

All of you go through the entire bay of District Thirteen. Here, they have missiles, supplies and hovercrafts of their own. And to think that thirteen was just supposed to be some distant memory. A district that got out of hand and had to be killed off because of it.

They’ve been thriving this whole time in this underground bunker.

The elevator has to take multiple trips because Johanna, Peeta and Annie are out cold. Annie had a panic attack because of Tanith’s body being passed off to Paylor in District Two, so you had to sedate her. As for Peeta… he wasn’t necessarily acting like himself, which freaked out Gale. And Johanna started to get restless when the ride was taking longer than she thought, and Boggs just wanted her to shut up.

By the time you’re able to get onto the elevator, it’s all just one big blur to you. One second you’re on the way, in a cement hallway, and the next you’re in a bright white room with other doctors and nurses moving in and out of rooms. They have you directed to a bed next to Annie, as Johanna gets the one to your far left, and Peeta is brought to a private room.

The girl that’s assigned to you takes your blood pressure, and has you do a series of breathing tests. She knows that you weren’t taken out the same time as the others, but earlier in the day yesterday. She takes blood from you so that they can test it and make sure that there’s no more ‘venom’ from the spiders.

Right after that, she gets to work on your arm. She examines it, says that you didn’t fuck up anything in your arm. She cleans it briefly, and then begins stitching it. When she’s done, she wraps it up like it had been before, but in better bandaging. She basically gives you a pat on the back and says that you’re free to go, just not very far.

You’re thankful for that, you slide off of the bed without a complaint and make a beeline out of the hospital. It reminds you too much of Tanith’s room when you found her body.

As you pass through the double doors, you’re met with a couple of people making their way down the hallway. When they get closer, you’re able to see that the first one is Katniss. She slows considerably when she realizes that it’s you who’s standing in front of her.

Right behind her is Finnick, who picks up the pace as soon as he realizes the same thing she did. Katniss is slow, waiting to see what will happen as you stare emotionless at Finnick.

He throws his arms around you, pulling you tight against his body. You press your hand against him, trying to push him away from you, because this is not what you need right now, but he insists.

“Peeta and Annie are inside.” you say.

“I know.” Finnick says, “But I’m here for you, right now.”

“Annie had a panic attack on the way here, you should go see her.”

Finnick ignores you, as he always does, “I heard what happened, I’m sorry. You shouldn't have been the one to find her--”

You frown, clenching your teeth as the tears spring in your eyes again, “Get off of me.”

“Can I have a moment with her, alone?” Finnick asks.

“Yeah, sorry.” Katniss says, and you can hear the doors open for a moment, as a third pair of footsteps approach. Then, the door swings shut.

Finnick readjusts his arms around you, “It’s just me and you here.”

It takes a moment before the tears start running down your face, and you can’t hold it together anymore. You press your forehead against Finnick’s shoulder as the first sob hits your body like a wave. You finally hug Finnick, allowing him to get a better hold on you altogether.

He rubs your back, not saying anything.

The two of you stand like that for minutes on end, before you’re finally able to pull yourself together enough. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands, and then with the pink shirt when your hands do nothing. Finnick sees your forearm with the bandage on it.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Had to gouge out the tracker before we arrived in the Capitol. Some nurse just fixed it up for me.” you look at Finnick.

He has a frown on his face, “Not to sound like a dick, but you’ve been overpowering me for the last couple of days.”

You sputter out a short laugh, “Let me guess, you felt anger after you had been taken out of the arena and were on your way to District Thirteen?”

The frown deepens, “I tried to tell Plutarch to get you too, but he said we couldn’t afford the chance. A few minutes later, I felt like I could take on a hundred people at once. And then it happened again yesterday morning, though it wasn’t as much.”

“Let me guess, grief after that?”

“I didn’t know you could be so sad.” Finnick says.

“I’m fine.” you shake your head, “It was nothing compared to coming home to a massacre in my own home.”

Finnick’s look of concern follows up that statement. You don’t want to explain it all to him, so you usher him to go inside of the hospital to see Annie instead. He agrees to go in, only after you say you’ll go inside too.

It’s exactly how you expect after that. Annie goes running at Finnick, clearly happy to see him, but he looks detached. He’s not as quick to kiss her, as she is. In fact, he’s letting her down to the floor sooner than she’s ready to. The whole interaction looks rushed, as if he’s not into it.

You suppose that it’s your fault, you are raining on this whole reunion. He’s trying the best he can without feeling awkward, but it isn’t much.

Him and Annie talk for a couple of minutes, which results in a lot of glances towards you. As time goes on, Annie begins to look upset by what he has to say. Then, she finally shakes her head at him, says something that ends the conversation, and Finnick comes back over towards you.

“I hope you didn’t just tell her what I think you did.” You watch as Annie takes a seat on the hospital bed she was on before.

“I did.” he says, “I didn’t end it between us but--”

“Finnick.” you scowl.

“--but it’s hard not to.” Finnick finishes, “It’s hard because I’m feeling what you feel, and not her.”

You need to sleep on all of this, you can’t stand this anymore. You need to lay down and get another few weeks of good rest because of a medically induced coma. And you’ll only be allowed to wake up when this is all a distant memory. Too much is happening all at once, and it’s making your head spin.

“Alright, cool.” you sigh, “It’s not my life you’re fucking up, it’s yours, and hers. If you want to ruin everything that you’ve earned for the past five years--”

“We’ve only been together for a year and a half.” Finnick forces you to look at him, “I know it’s a long time to you, but it isn’t to me. Not compared to the fact that my soulmate is standing right in front of me. And as long as you’re here, I’m willing to throw everything away for you.”

You and him stare at each other, before you say; “Your loss.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter thirteen

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Chapter Ten (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 7.5k

Warnings; swearing, murder!

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

DOUBLE UPDATE TODAY --> CHAPTER TEN 1/2

–

You would take the fucking birds over the spiders any day. If you could go back in time and be here instead, you would take it. Because while it was genuine torture for Katniss--since she has human emotion--it was nothing to you. You laughed for the first fifteen minutes, until it stopped being funny as soon as they pulled out fabricated screams of your very dead family.

You can’t deny that you weren't impressed, though. The amount of trouble they must have gone through just to get them had to have been a lot. They’re dead, which means that they obviously can’t torture them, so the screams have to be fake. So, they have to go back to the interview they had with your family when you were first in the games, take samples of their voices, and then manipulate it until it sounded about right.

They did a fantastic job making it sound real. You almost had a flashback to all those times you were a dick to your brothers and sisters. However, you can’t verify for your parents. They never screamed, no matter what situation they were in, they took it without any fear.

You tried to tell Katniss that the people she hears screaming are probably just fine, considering the gamemakers are morons and they just gave the entire thing away the second they chose your family. But she either literally couldn’t hear you over the birds, or she just chose to ignore you either way.

You can’t say that you didn’t try, though you didn’t care enough to enforce it in her mind.

After a certain point in time, you got fed up with the birds pelting you, and sitting around next to the wall waiting for the hour to be up, so you wandered. Of course, where you went, the birds followed. But it was better being able to move around and check out the sector to see if it was worth staying in after this.

Compared to everything else, this section of the arena is definitely harmless. The birds fuck with the mind of those who have human emotion, but that’s about it. There’s no deadly fog or monkeys. There’s no spiders that eat flesh or a wave of water that’ll wipe you out if you can’t swim. It’s basically clean.

Although, it does hurt when the birds propel themselves into your body, beaks first. After a while, you kinda just get used to it, and learn when to swing the glaive to send the birds flying into the trees. It was fun, until you realized that if you wander too far, the gamemakers might actually try to wipe you out for entertainment.

“Are you okay?” Finnick asks, you swat his hand away.

“You think I give a shit?” you ask, “Those birds mean nothing. The screams are fake, the gamemakers were stupid enough to use my families.” you look up to the sky of the arena, “Which by the way, if you didn’t know--they’re all fucking dead!”

The look on Finnick’s face is almost priceless. He opens his mouth, but you shake your head at him. They’ve been dead for years, and no amount of apologies will bring them back to life. Everyone can say they’re sorry all they want, but you don’t want to hear a single thing out of their mouth concerning the situation unless they’re some sort of necromancer.

“They won’t touch Prim.” Peeta says to Katniss.

“Your fiance’s right, the whole country loves your sister. If they tortured her-–if they did anything to her, forget the districts. There would be riots in the damn Capitol.” Johanna laughs, and then yells; “Hey, how does that sound, Snow? What if we-–what if we set your backyard on fire? You know you can’t put everybody in here.”

You slow clap, snickering to yourself. Johanna and you may not get along, since you two come from very different places, but the two of you are similar than anyone may think. Which is the exact reason why you hate her so fucking much. You don’t want to be compared to her. While she’s loud-mouthed and unafraid to get in trouble, you’d never say some of the shit she does.

Like her stunt during the interview, not a move you would have made. Then again, your entire plan when you volunteered was to be ruthless and win. You didn’t want a target on your head back then, and you don’t really want one now either. However, in order for that not to happen, you’d have to completely ditch your group of allies here.

If anything screams target, it’s sticking around with Beetee, the guy who worked for the Capitol, knows things that he shouldn’t. Johanna, as you said, loud-mouthed and unfearful of sharing her opinions. And Katniss Everdeen, the trouble-stirrer. Plus, god knows what Snow would have against Finnick, Peeta and you.

“What?” she asks, “He can’t hurt me. There’s no one left that I love.”

“Join the club.” you swing the glaive in your hand before slamming it into the ground.

First of all, you’re not entirely surprised that her family has been killed off. When she had come out of her games, she was a big talk for a long while. Johanna played the damsel in distress role very well, which is nearly the same thing that Finnick had done. The only difference, Finnick was just looked over until the last second, while Johanna was purposely acting innocent.

It doesn’t take a lot for the Capitol citizens to desire a certain tribute. They must have seen the fire, spunk and determination on Johanna. Snow obviously had tried to get her to say yes, but even after he had killed her family, she didn’t give in like the rest of you.

You’ve known a couple of people that have been included in the Capitol’s antics, actually. Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria, you. You know for a fact that Finnick was included, and you bet he said no at first too, so he’s missing a few fingers. There’s Johanna, maybe Blight but you don’t have a clue on that. A few of the other tributes that have been in here probably too.

Katniss and Peeta would be on that list, if it weren’t for them being together and the nation wanting them to be. There’s a great deal of people that want them to be married and have children and be the holy grail of perfect couples. While on the other hand, there’s a few that would desire Katniss, you’re not sure about Peeta. He’s kinda… brainless.

Anyway, Snow wouldn’t take a chance like breaking up the most loved couple at the moment to try and sell one--or maybe both!--into prostitution. He’s smarter than that.

Johanna walks off, you’re not entirely sure why, and you don’t care very much either.

“You weren’t affected at all?” Finnick asks when he can’t stand the silence. Or he’s curious over why Katniss had lost her mind and you stood like a soldier in a storm.

“Finnick, I stopped giving a shit a long time ago,” you say, “There’s two exact things that I care about anymore. One, my big cozy house in District Two. And two, my pride and joy, Tanith.” you grab a hold of the necklace, showing it off for a moment, “And before you ask, no she isn’t my daughter. She’s just one of two of my victors.”

Zavian can go fuck himself, is what you’re subtly implying. You wonder if he’s caught on to that.

“Sure, they tried to get a rise out of me using Tanith’s screams, but I wasn’t going to fall for it. I already saw what happened to numb nuts--” you motion to Katniss, “--and decided to just… not care. I’m not exactly an emotional person, if you haven’t caught on just yet.”

Peeta clearly didn’t like the nickname that you handed off to Katniss. To this, you give him a very specific look as you pass him. Almost a sneer, because you still are very much above him.

“Kids.” you mutter.

This is enough to set him off, “Seriously, what is wrong with you?”

“Peeta…” Finnick warns.

You crouch down near him and Katniss, “You know how animals get a little antsy when their prey is in front of them?” he looks like he pales, “We’re not friends, Peeta. In fact, I completely loathe you and I’ve been waiting for a moment to pounce on you and everyone else here.

“The second that this alliance fails, I’m going after you guys first. Not Johanna, or Beetee, or Brutus. You and your little girlfriend.”

“That just means that you’re afraid of what we’re capable of.”

You laugh in his face, before moving closer, whispering; “No, I just know things that you don’t.” you stand again, “I’m heading to the beach, don’t feel forced to follow anytime soon.”

You take a completely new path to the beach, making sure to cover your tracks the best you can. Last thing you want is Finnick chasing after you, thinking that you’re upset or whatever. That isn’t the case in the slightest, you’re mostly walking away so you don’t end up killing them.

Katniss is in the most vulnerable state she’s been in yet. A quick stab through her chest, and then a swing of the glaive up to Peeta’s throat--and you’ve knocked them both out of the game already. You bet Finnick wouldn’t necessarily try to kill you, but he’d definitely disarm you in some way.

Pull the pocket knife out of your boot, three people are dead. Beetee can’t run that fast, four people. It would just be you and Johanna, and she’d probably go running back to the rest of you, since that’s a lot of cannons. You’d take her out too, and then there would be only three people left inside of the games.

You, Brutus, and Chaff--as Peeta said. Chaff doesn’t have any important skills, he’d die in the wilderness. With your luck, all you’d have to do is camp the cornucopia, hidden inside, and when he would come to armor up some more--because he would--you’d take him out too. Just like that, you’d be the winner of the Quarter Quell.

Of course, this is all easier said than done. Trying to kill four people in one big burst would be an absolute pain in the ass. You’d have to pick a perfect time to do it. Like Katniss freaking out over whoever it was, and Peeta tending over her.

Actually, instead of killing Finnick third, you think you would go for Beetee instead, and Finnick would come after. It just makes more sense that way.

The beach is empty, there’s no one around the ring--and as far as you can see--in the treeline either. Brutus would be smart enough to stay in the jungle, and not make a run for the cornucopia just in case the rest of you are out here. He’s outnumbered considerably. He might be able to mow down a few people at first, but eventually he’ll get taken down.

You take a seat next to the tree that you guys were gathered around before the jabberjays had rudely interrupted. You run your hands over your arms, noticing that the scabs are basically gone already. It’s good news, it means that the ointment that you were given works at an accelerated pace--even more so than the cream for the cut on the back of your head.

Applying it again, you skip your legs. It’s only the upper half of your body that’s exposed anymore, and it’s because you passed on putting the shirt on. It was because of how hot it is in here. Plus, the thing is basically ruined anyway, the spiders had chewed holes in it to get through.

Hell, you bet that it’s still where you left it last.

You can’t wait until all of this is over.

“Who’s Annie?” Katniss asks, you raise your head from where it was resting against a tree, looking to where everyone is sitting.

Johanna is next to Katniss, Finnick is sitting in the water, and Beetee and Peeta are nearby.

“Annie Cresta, the girl that Mags volunteered for. She won like four years--five years ago.” Johanna says.

You lay your head back down against the tree, but don’t bother closing your eyes again, instead you stare right ahead at Finnick. You’d call him insane for sitting in freezing water like that, but he comes from the ocean district. No water can really bother him that badly.

You wonder what brought Katniss’ question on. She might have overheard you when you asked Finnick that question. About what would happen to Annie if you and Finnick are soulmates. If he’d just willingly leave her like that, after he found your dislikable personality, charming somehow.

“Is she the one that went a little…” Katniss doesn’t want to say it.

Johanna hums, pauses, and then says; “Love is weird.”

Unfortunately, it is.

“I have a plan.” Beetee says.

“Finnick!” Johanna gets up.

“I have a plan.” Beetee repeats.

Finnick and Johanna come back over, arms resting on the tree branch. You don’t move from where you’re sitting, which is definitely out of the circle that they’re standing and sitting in. You’re exhausted, you need some real sleep and not some power naps every couple of hours.

“Where does Brutus feel safest? The jungle?” Beetee asks.

“Jungles a nightmare.” Johanna says.

“Probably here on the beach.” Peeta answers.

“Then why is he not here?” Beetee asks.

“Because we are. We claimed it.” Johanna spits.

You can’t believe that they’re really worrying over one person. As you’ve said to yourself over and over, Brutus is harmless if you’re all careful. Yes, he will come back to hunt, but he’s going to need supplies out of the cornucopia first. Once he gets that shit, he’ll be coming after you guys.

“And if we left, he would come?” Beetee asks again.

You hate his ‘twenty questions’ game. If you have a plan, just say it and not beat around the bush.

“Or stay hidden in the treeline.” Finnick says.

“Which in just over four hours will be soaked with water from the ten o’clock wave.” he smiles, “Then what happens at midnight?”

“Lightning strikes that tree.” Katniss points.

“Here’s what I propose,” Beetee starts, “We leave the beach at dusk. We head to the lightning tree, that should draw them back to the beach. Prior to midnight, we then run this wire–” he motions to it, and then goes to pointing, “–from the tree, to the water. Anyone in the water, or the damp sand, will be electrocuted.’

The two morons sitting in the sand feel it between their fingers as if they don’t know what damp sand feels like by now. You clench your teeth and close your eyes, leaning your head back.

Maybe you should just stay here and quit following them around.

“How do we know that the wire’s not going to burn up?” Johanna asks.

“Because I invented it.” he says, “I assure you, it won’t burn up.”

Johanna and Finnick share a look, and you can practically hear the conversation. Asking if it’s worth it, the other says it won’t. There’s really nothing left to lose, so you all might as well do it.

And then, Finnick looks at you, “What’re you thinking, (Y/n)?”

“Is there a look on my face?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

Finnick cracks a smile, “I’m asking because you know these tricks best.”

Sighing, you lean forward, “Not that you actually care, you’re going to go through whatever you feel like is best. But if you want my opinion, Brutus is one man. We can take him on, it’s not like he’s impossible to kill. The fact that you’re going through will all of this though--” you motion between the sand and the coil of wire, “--is stupid.”

“But if you were with him, would you come after us?” Katniss asks.

“Without a doubt. However, he’s by himself, he’s smarter than you guys take him for, he’s gonna wait till we split up or something. Also, since he’s the last hope of a career--since I am very clearly tainted by your ideals--he’s pampered. The motherfucker will have everything that he could wish for.”

Johanna laughs, “Well, Beetee’s plan is better than hunting him down.”

You roll your eyes, laying back against the tree again. You don’t know why you bother.

What’s even more annoying, is that you’re considering helping Brutus come after these pretentious dicks. And now that you know their plan, it makes it even better. You and Brutus would be able to avoid the beach for a while, and if it does get electrocuted, the sand will likely be partially glass anyway.

And since you know the jungle better than Brutus does at this point, he’ll owe you more than he’ll like it.

“Yeah, why not? If it fails, no harm done anyway.” Katniss says.

Peeta nods, “Alright, I say we try it.”

“So what can we do to help?” Finnick asks.

Beetee pauses for a moment before answering, “Keep me alive for the next six hours? That would be extremely helpful.”

Beetee goes ahead and lists everything that he’ll be doing. For a while, you’re able to sit through his speech, until you develop a headache. Only then do you go ahead with getting up and wandering to the cornucopia just to get away from everyone. If you do decide to sneak off, it’ll be easier to do when there’s a structure blocking their view.

You’ve got hours to burn before you have to leave the beach and go to the trees.

It isn’t until you’re pretty far along the rocks when you realize that you’re not alone. In fact, there’s quite a lot of splashing happening in the water. Instinctively, you move closer to the other side of the rock, not really wanting to look and see if there’s a fucking mutt that also lives inside of the water. On top of the fact that the gamemakers can spin you dizzy if they feel like it.

“Smart.”

“Holy fuck, Finnick.” you stop, raising your face to the sky, “Do you ever give people personal space?”

“Remember what happened the last time we were in the middle?”

You look at Finnick now, “As you guys said, he’s probably staying hidden in the trees! Won’t come out until we’re fuckin’ gone, so what’s the harm in wandering around?”

Finnick comes up to the rocks, crossing his arms and pulling himself with them, “Was that rhetorical or do you really want to know.”

You crouch down, “What are you here for?”

“Keeping an eye on you.”

“Afraid I’ll run?”

“After that homicidal look you had on your face listening to Beetee, yeah.”

You offer your hand to him, and he takes it, so you pull him up, “Beetee not only had an annoying voice, but doesn’t know when to shut up.” you look at where he’s sitting with Johanna, “She’s probably wanting to kill him too.”

You don’t wait for Finnick to pull himself up. The cornucopia is empty, there’s no one here but you and Finnick.

You wish that there weren’t cameras everywhere. You wish that you’d be able to have a full conversation with Finnick, cutting out all the secret words. You want to ask him what happened if this plan of his actually comes true. Who’s bringing them out of here? And when?

You have a vague idea, Beetee said that you guys should keep him alive for the ‘next six hours’, and not anything past that. That’s significant, right? Maybe it will happen tonight, after all.

“What’s on your mind?” Finnick takes a seat on the box while you six in the black sand.

“Six hours to keep him alive is very specific, don’t you think?” you ask, hoping that he catches on, “Do you think he has any big plans after that?”

“He might, after midnight. Just depends if it all goes according to plan.”

Something might happen after midnight--doesn’t make sense to you, “Well, Chaff is dead already,” the cannon went off an hour ago, it can’t be Brutus, you just know it, “And if we do kill Brutus, that just leaves us.”

“Yes it does.” Finnick says.

“Which means that I should branch off while I can.” you squint, waiting for him to object.

“We’d just have to go after you next, since you have a vendetta against Peeta and Katniss, after all.”

“So I should stick around?”

“We might surprise you.” Finnick smiles.

You stand again, heading over to the water, facing it, “Yeah? And what happens if they shoot first?”

“Come on, (Y/n). You’re telling me that you won’t be anticipating it the entire time?”

He’s amused, which annoys you. All of this is such a walk in the park for him, and he can clearly tell that none of this is as easy for you. You don’t know if you can put your trust in their hands, considering that they know your motives. If you let your guard down for even a little bit, they’d be able to take you out.

Finnick is always so smug when it comes to things. Whoever is really behind this, he must believe in them a lot. They have to be really good at whatever they’re planning to do if this is the way to go.

“I will.” you admit, “If Katniss even twitches, I’ll wipe out that boy of hers.” you slam the glaive into the rock, smiling a little bit, “And while she’s grieving, I’ll take her next.”

“You fantasize about death a lot?”

“For them, yes.” you look over your shoulder, “Could you imagine the shock on the Capitol citizen’s faces when I take out the girl on fire and her useless boyfriend? They’d loathe me.”

“You’d get yourself in trouble.”

“I’m already in trouble. I had tons of people betting on me, and I’ve wasted their precious money.”

He snorts, “They’ll have more to waste next year, too.”

If there is a next year.

“When do we head back to the others?” you ask.

“Is the sun hitting the trees yet?” Finnick is behind you, and just before you’re able to slip out of his fingers, he places his hands on your waist and leans forward, “Looks like we’ve still got some time.”

“Annie Cresta is sobbing in her psychotic rocking chair.” you elbow him to get him off, and he obliges, “What made you like her, anyway?”

“What made you like me?”

You laugh, “Ha! You think I give a shit about you!” you then deadpan, staring at him, “Sweetheart, I could drown you in these waters and come up victorious. You haven’t grown on me as much as you think you have.”

“You’re tolerating me more, whether you want to admit that or not.”

“Tolerating is a hell of a difference. Ticking time bomb--what was that song that Wiress was singing before she was subtly murdered by my admirer?” you mock a smile.

Finnick looks interested, “Admirer? Gloss admired you?”

“If you win these games, make sure they play back the tapes of every single time Gloss and I ran across each other. Watch his eyes, especially. And the interview, too, because he had the blessing of holding my hand for a minute while we played rebellion on live tv.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he laughs to himself, “(Y/n), you could have anyone you want, and yet you choose to be all by yourself.”

“What? Johanna and Beetee have a crush on me now? On top of you, and Gloss, and probably Brutus too.”

“Who said I’m on that list?” Finnick asks.

You hold up your finger, before moving behind him, placing your hands on his sides, leaning into his body as close as you can manage. He’s wet from being in the water, but the effect works.

“Go fuck yourself.”

You shove him in after that, watching as he flails, and then hits the water.

You pick up your glaive from the rocks as you move back to the cornucopia. It’s a couple of seconds before Finnick gets himself out of the water again. You don’t say a word to him, pulling out food from the boxes and chewing on it as you continue to dig through the shit.

“You don’t need to ask my permission to go to the others.” you tell him, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I’m going to sit here anyway.”

Not like he has much to do in the first place.

“Do you really think I would leave Annie for you?”

“No, and I don’t want you to either. The girl is nutty enough as it is, she’d just think that the next person she comes across that shows an interest will end up leaving her if they find their soulmate too.”

“You’d stay with someone even if they weren’t?”

You look up, “I don’t date.”

“Hypothetically, then.”

Sighing, you go back to what you were doing, “It’s not really hypothetical with me. The guy did fucking leave me because he found his soulmate when I was in the games. The motherfucker started dating her before I’d even come home. I wore his stupid trinket necklace into the games and everything.

“I was a teenager--whatever. But we had been together for years, so I would expect some hesitance, and maybe even remorse.” you look at Finnick, “If I were you, I wouldn’t even be considering leaving Annie. It would be a downgrade, because I don’t care about you, and she does.

“And before you say that ‘time would change that’, you’d be changing me, the person I am. I’m developed, I’m not changing anything. You choose someone who would love you forever, or someone who would loathe every detail about you.” you stop now, “If you saw a golden apple and a rotten apple in front of you, which would you pick? I know I would pick the golden one.”

“I am the golden one--”

“And I’m the rotten one for you.” you say, “And honestly, even if you do pick me, I don’t pick you. My opinion hasn’t changed since the tribute parade, you’re as unlikable as all the other rejects on the beach. The only people that have ever liked you are one of the three things, dead, crazy, or horny. And I’m not any of those.”

“No,” Finnick instantly disagrees, “You’re crazy.”

“Not for you.”

Finnick laughs, and doesn’t say anything more.

You pop open another box, and lo and behold sits your sai’s. You laugh, pulling them out and turning them over in your hands. They’re shiny, new as the day as they were made.

“Look at these!” the excitement bubbles out of you, “I knew that they were here somewhere. They wouldn’t have the weapons for everyone but me.”

“Aren’t those used for disarming people, though? Not really for killing?”

You look up at Finnick, “That’s the best part. The bluntness makes it hurt.”

Getting to your feet, you spin them in your hands, and then aim them towards Finnick. You give him a pretty big smile, and he knows what you want. He picks up his trident, pointing it at your chest.

“What happens if I accidentally stab you?” Finnick asks.

“Don’t flatter yourself, you won’t even get close.” you swing first.

The bar to the trident gets stuck in the sai, and with one healthy twist, you’ve already disarmed Finnick in three moves. You grab the trident before it hits the rock, and then you hand it back to Finnick.

“That was quick.” Finnick raises his eyebrows, “What else do you know?”

“How to shoot a bow, wield a number of swords that are different variations of the same model. I know how to use the trident you’re holding, and anything close to a spear--what else?” you look into the cornucopia, “Probably the whip, the mace--with and without the chain too. The axes that Johanna has, I’d be able to use that too, but it’s a little heavy for my liking.”

When you look at Finnick, he clearly doesn’t know what to think, “Are you lying to me?”

“No.”

“What can’t you do?”

“Swim well, and probably fish either. District Two is a barren wasteland.” you belt at least one of the sai’s before picking the glaive up, “Sun’s hit the trees, it’s about time we head back.”

You take the lead while Finnick lags for a moment.

The walk back is filled with questions, and more banter back and forth. By the time you get to the beach, the others are ready to go. Everyone packs up their shit--not that there’s much in the first place--and then you all head into the jungle, one by one.

Finnick, Beetee, Peeta, Katniss, Johanna, and then you. Johanna and you had a power struggle for a moment, until Finnick said that you probably should be kept away from Katniss and Peeta since you’re more dangerous than you let on. Johanna laughed in your face, but didn’t argue.

You guess that he isn’t wrong. You could take any of their weapons and thrive. One of the perks of being a games-trained tribute, rather than an unsuspecting child. You were taught to be able to use anything, which doesn’t mean that you don’t have preferences when it comes to certain things, of course.

You’d prefer an sai because it’s able to disarm people pretty quickly. It’s unrealistic in a deadly fight though, so you’d always go for something more simple as a sword. You would have picked that instead, if it weren’t for the fact that swords are basic, and have average reach. A glaive, a spear, or a trident is a complete different story.

Throwing a glaive is going to be easier than throwing a sword. They’re built different, swords are meant to slice through the air to move quicker. While the glaive, spear, or trident are specifically designed to be able to be thrown without fucking it up. If you threw a sword, with the handle and the blade that it has, it would spin through the air. While the others specifically have a pole made for throwing.

Also, the tip of the spear is meant to guide the rest of the weapon. It’s heavy in that one spot mostly, as the rest of it is light material--or it’s supposed to be, at least. It’s going to be a lot harder to throw one thing straight than the other.

As the sun gets lower, the jungle gets darker. The heat might be less, but that doesn’t stop the humidity. You’re sweating out all the water you drank before this hike. The entire thing is uphill, and it’s pretty steep too. You can feel the burn in your calves from it.

Capitol music interrupts the silence. But while the others stop, you don’t bother. You can see their faces and their districts in your mind already. Cashmere and Gloss from District One, Cashmere being your kill, Gloss being Katniss. Wiress since Gloss has killed her before going down seconds later.

Mags because she died due to the poisonous fog in a noble sacrifice for Peeta. The girl from five, she drowned in the tidal wave that hit at ten this morning. Next is the female morphling that died for Peeta during the mutt attack, which was just an hour after Mags had died.

Blight, Johanna’s district mate because he ran head-first into the forcefield wall or whatever when he was blinded by the blood rain. The guy from ten died from an unknown mutt attack, which would later be the same fate for Chaff.

It’s you and Brutus, Beetee, Finnick, Johanna, and Katniss and Peeta left in here. Brutus is the odd man out, while the rest of you are in a supposed alliance. By now, in any other regular games, the tributes would be at each other’s throats already. If you all were careers--which, two of you are in this case--it would be even worse.

People would be picked off in their sleep, there would be no time to sort a plan out. Let everyone run in different directions and go from there. If you come across each other, it’s a fight to the death. Unless they’re making mini allies after that.

“Eager?” Finnick asks as soon as you get up to him.

“If I stop walking now, then I’m not going to get back up.” you tell him, “Plus I know everyone that’s died already, and you know the exact amount too. Take a look at your arm.”

“You won’t take a moment to honor them?”

“I had planned to kill half of them, so no, I really won’t.” you then pause for a second, looking at Finnick, “May Mags have peace, though.”

Finnick cracks a smile, “You’re soft.”

You scowl at Finnick, before going back to the hill. Finnick keeps at your pace, and in no time, you’re reached the tree. Beetee passes you guys up.

“Minimal charring, impressive conductor… let’s get started.” Beetee says, heading over to the tree.

As everyone else follows him over, you decide to stay watch instead. Finnick doesn’t move either, probably deciding that it’ll be best to stick by your sick.

“Lost puppy.” you mutter.

Beetee gets the wire going around the tree, and since it’s made up of a bunch of small trees, Beetee focuses on those and not the one main part. It takes a while before he finally gets a rhythm down, he goes much faster after that.

And since he’s Beetee, he’s also blabbing his mouth while he does it, “Typically, a lightning strike contains five billion volts of energy.”

“Fascinating.” Finnick snickers, and you look over to give him a look of amusement.

“We don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity when this hits.”

Beetee finishes up with the wire, and then he begins off in the direction that you guys came from, holding it out to Katniss, “You girls go together now, take this. Unspool it carefully, make sure the entire coil is in the water, you understand? Then head to the tree at the two o’clock center, we’ll meet you there.”

Katniss looks between Beetee and Johanna, like she doesn’t know what to think of this. Too bad for her, you’re not entirely sure either. You have no clue what the hell is going on, but from the look on Finnick’s face, he wants you to play along.

“I’m going to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says.

You laugh, “As if you’d be much help.”

“No, you’re staying here to protect me.” Beetee then adds, “And the tree.”

“No, I need to go with her.” Peeta says in a mock authoritative tone.

“Brutus is the size of two careers, I need two guards.”

“Finnick and (Y/n) can protect you just fine.” Peeta tries.

“Last time I checked, you’re not a girl,” you lean on the glaive.

“Yeah, why can’t Finnick and (Y/n) protect you, and Peeta, Johanna and I take the coil?”

“You all agreed to keep me alive until midnight, correct?” Beetee comes closer, glasses halfway down his nose.

“It’s his plan, we all agreed to it,” Johanna says.

Finnick chimes in too, “Is there a problem, here?”

“Excellent question.” Beetee waits for an objection.

There is none, “No, there’s no problem.”

Katniss goes to say goodbye to Peeta, and you give a look to Johanna, “I’m not holding the wire.”

“I don’t plan on it either.” Johanna says.

Johanna gives Katniss another second before telling him to pick up the pace. After that, the three of you leave to go down the hill to the sand. As you go down the way you came, you realize that Johanna seems to have an entire path planned out, she’s got a goal.

As much as you hate to say it, you’ve got to follow her lead, especially if you might screw up whatever it is that she has to do. With what Finnick said and all earlier this evening, midnight or after. Six hours has come upon you guys quite quickly, it’s not even thirty minutes or so until the lightning does happen.

You go down the hill first, allowing Johanna and then Katniss go behind you. Johanna seemed to have wanted it this way, and she even encouraged you to be the one that went first. You’d like to be paranoid about it being because she can literally backstab you in this position, but you don’t have the energy for this.

You’d really like to know the point of going all the way up the hill to wrap a wire around a tree only for it to turn out that you’d literally be going back down the hill maybe an hour to a half hour later.

It’s mostly just silence, the most difficult part is going down the rocks. You use the glaive as a walking stick as you carefully lower yourself down onto each rock. With Johanna and Katniss, Johanna takes the bow from her to allow Katniss to get down safely. Also allowing her to focus on the safety of the wire.

Johanna hands the bow back, and then says, “Come on. I want to put as much distance between me and this beach as possible. Frying is not how I want to go.”

You guys walk a couple more steps, until the sound of the wire unspooling stops altogether, and Katniss comes to a halt too. When you turn around to see, the wire is pulled tight, and each time Katniss tugs, it doesn’t move.

“There’s something…” Katniss trails off, leaning forward a little bit.

This isn’t a coincidence, you give a look to Johanna just before the wire snaps, and she nods at you. The moment you look back at the place where the wire had been stuck, Brutus emerges. In the same moment, Johanna grabs the wire from Katniss and hits her over the head with it.

“Keep an eye on him.” Johanna murmurs lowly, and she doesn’t really have to tell you twice.

Whatever Johanna does, it makes Katniss scream. By the time Johanna stands again, there’s blood on her hands, you watch as she reaches for her axe, but you stop her. You grab the sai on your belt and throw it, before shoving Johanna to get her running.

She doesn’t hesitate, and she might even be grateful of the fact that she won’t be fighting Brutus with her two tiny fists.

“Is he following?” Johanna asks.

You pause for a moment, listening, until Brutus comes running at you from the fucking trees. You swing the glaive, allowing him to dodge and get out of the way. You slip under his arm when his attention is then turned to Johanna. After that, you scramble your way up to higher ground.

As you go up, you dig your hand into your boot, searching for the pocketknife. However, you can’t seem to find it at first. You stop, make your way up to the top of the hill first, before pulling the boot off. The knife drops into the leaves, and you pick it up, flicking it open.

After that, you take off running without the shoe. You can feel the rocks and needles poking into your foot with every single step you take. You keep an eye on your right, looking for Brutus’ shiny bald head in the moonlight. And when you’re sure you caught a glimpse of it, you take a couple of steps back.

You catch your breath the best you can, and when you feel the adrenaline run through your body like a shot of energy, you bolt towards the cliff. When you hit the edge, you push off, and pull the knife over your head. Johanna clearly sees you behind him, over him, flying down like an eagle catching its prey.

Then, you sink the knife straight into the back of Brutus’ neck. It doesn’t kill him immediately, but he does fall flat onto his elbows. It’s not over yet, the cannon hasn’t signaled so you pull the knife out and sink it straight into the back of Brutus’ skull.

The cannon goes off, and you dip your head a little bit, sucking in the air between your teeth.

“Shit.”

“Don’t fucking mention it.” you tell her, getting up again, “You should find Katniss, or whatever.”

“Yeah, you’re okay?”

“Are you? I left you alone for a minute.”

“No dents.” she says.

She takes off after that, and you nod a little to yourself. You take the same path that you did the first time, finding your shoe at the top. You yank the sock off, shove your foot into the boot, pick up the glaive and then start towards the tree. You only know you’re heading in the right direction when you can see glimpses through the trees.

You slam into something solid, but you grab onto it before you bounce off. It takes you a second to realize that it’s no tree, it’s Finnick. His eyes are wide and he looks over you.

“Who’s blood--”

“Brutus, he’s dead. Johanna went to look for Katniss.”

“Peeta ran off when the cannon--we need to find Katniss first.”

“What’s the plan?” you ask, stopping Finnick.

“Find who you can and bring them back to the tree.”

This is chaos.

“Okay,” you agree, “Yeah, alright.”

You go to go by yourself, but Finnick pulls you along with him. The two of you run through the trees a little bit as he calls out for Johanna, and Peeta and Katniss. When you guys take a moment to get your heads back, you suggest that they might have just gone back to the lightning tree.

“Yeah--okay.” Finnick says.

“I’m going to look for another minute or so, I’ll be there in a second.” you push him.

“No, come with me.”

“Finnick, if they’re not at the tree, they’re out here.” you pause for a second, “I’m not going to kill anyone, promise. Just go.”

He clearly doesn’t want to agree, but he heads in that direction anyway. And just as you said, you search the ground, in the bushes, leaves and trees. You’re mainly hoping that Peeta is pulling his stupid camoflauge stunt, but you’re not entirely sure how he would have enough time to do that.

Nevertheless, you kick in bushes, and peek into trees that are split open. You sweep your foot between rocks, hoping that you’ll find something squishy, or a groan of complaint, but there really is nothing.

Another couple of minutes, and then you decide that they have to be back at camp at this rate, right?

“Johanna?” you yell, fed up with this quiet game, because there is no threat anymore, “Peeta?”

Just as there’s rustling in the leaves, an explosion goes off above you. You crouch, covering your head as you meekly look to see what caused it. Your mouth falls open when you see the sky of the arena is black, and the hexagons that hold the arena together, are coming loose.

“What the fuck?” Johanna asks.

“Did you find Peeta?”

“No, Finnick or Katniss?”

“Finnick went back to the tree.” your voice sounds far away.

The hexagons are falling now, the mouth of the arena is now on fire. You can see all the construction that’s behind the making of these places. The tree is so far up the hill, it would take a lot of energy to run all that way again.

Neither you or Johanna move, though, staring at the opening. Then, a familiar black mass appears in the bright blue sky, lowering a claw. All the way down, until it sweeps up Beetee.

You start moving towards the tree, keeping your eyes on the hovercraft, watching as it gets dropped down a second time.

“(Y/n)--!” Johanna starts.

“I’m not staying in here!” you yell back at her, “I’m getting the fuck out of here even if it kills me!”

You struggle going up the ledge of dirt, and then the rocks too as you try not to make them dislodge and tumble. Johanna doesn’t follow you, almost like she knows something and you don’t.

The claw goes down a third time, and some sick feeling in your stomach tells you that it’s the final time. You push yourself the best you can, but you can feel your body giving up already. And just as you make it into the clearing, Finnick is already getting lifted into the air.

The ground shakes with every hexagon that falls. The jungle is on fire, and you can smell the burning wood, giving you a headache. But you don’t move from where you’re standing, watching as the claw is brought in. And just as you anticipate it coming out the fourth time.

The hovercraft flies away.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia chapter ten #metanoia

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Eighteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 2.4k

Warnings; swearing, meanery

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You pace in front of the windows, staring out into the city. Every now and then, you’ll stop because you forget what you were doing, but then you quickly make up for the lost time.

There’s nothing really peculiar about the city that you’re looking at. Just staring at the Capitol is enough to make you blank out.. With how their buildings are shaped, placed and constantly refurbished. You’d think that they would be done at some point, but they’re always implementing their newest technology.

Take the whole Tribute Center as an example.

You pause your movement again, placing your hand on the glass as you stare at the building. It’s the tallest, in the heart of the city. And it holds nothing but grievances. You wonder if Coin will bother to burn it down, or if she’ll keep it.

If she doesn’t burn it down, you will. Right along with all the other apartment complexes and houses that discomfort you. You’ll make the Capitol your home, one way or another. It all starts with getting rid of all those places that you’d had to visit in your teen years.

How will arson be for refurbishing?

“Miss Rosecelli, you can sit--”

You look over your shoulder at Coin, who’s staring right at you. The two of you take a moment, and there must be something about your emotionless gaze that makes her drop it. Because her eyes drift downwards, and eventually away from you.

“She’s just nervous about the conversation she’ll be having with Finnick later today.” Johanna says, clicking a pen on the table, “About whether or not they’re gonna be a couple.”

Peeta looks at Johanna, you roll your eyes, Annie shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

You cross your arms, pursing your lips, “You’re a fucking bitch.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Johanna mutters.

“I could, but Finnick isn’t here to strap you down like last time.”

“That’s really rich, coming from the person who lost it on a peacekeeper.” Johanna snorts.

“Maybe that’s enough.” Haymitch says.

“Maybe?” you ask, turning around to see Johanna. Your face puckers up when you realize her back is to you, and taking the opportunity of a lifetime, in one swift motion you slap the back of her head on your way to your seat, at the other end of the table.

“You fucking--” her chair teeters from how hard she’s gotten up.

The door opens, and you look up to see that it’s Finnick.

“Good.” Peeta says, “Control your mutts.”

You turn a harsh eye to Peeta next, since you haven’t even passed him yet. And with the maturity of a middle schooler, you crack your knuckles right in his face.

“That’s fucking hilarious, considering you’re a Capitol bitch, yourself.”

Haymitch has had enough, and he doesn’t wait to see what Peeta does. He reaches over with one arm, yanking you away from the end of the table that you’re not welcome on anymore, considering the people. Johanna, Annie and Peeta. The only reason why you belong on the other side is because Beetee tolerates you and Haymitch doesn’t give a shit.

Or so you thought.

“Knock it off.” he warns.

“Go back to drinking your vodka-infused tea.” you hiss, going for the chair next to Peeta.

“What did I walk in on?” Finnick asks.

“A war zone, apparently.” Beetee has his glasses in hand, he rubs his face tiredly.

Finnick looks at you for a real answer, “What happened?”

“Johanna.” is all you answer, yanking out the chair as you sit on it.

“All I said was--” Johanna’s batting her eyelashes innocently.

“No one gives a shit about what you said.” you cut her off, “Shut the fuck up already.”

She clenches her jaw, giving you a nasty look. However, she doesn’t bother trying again. Finnick just places his hand on the back of your chair, and begins to talk to Peeta as if you didn’t just say the shit you did to any of them.

You cross your legs, and then your arms as you sink in your chair. You bite the inside of your lip and cheek, trying not to say anything that might get you in a deeper hole than you already are.

Although, it’s not like you’ll have to speak to any of the morons ever again after this. This meeting was required, Coin will crown herself as the next dictator later this evening, and then you’re free to choose a place to live. Beetee will likely stay in the Capitol--as for all the others, they’ll likely scatter.

Except for Finnick. He’s going to negotiate an agreement with you.

You told him simply; either you’re living in the Capitol with the rest of the circus, or you’re living so far off the grid that they’ll have to hunt you down for months just to find you.

And Finnick wants to live back in District Four. It’s where he was raised, and he finds comfort there. You can’t really blame him for it. You’d be going for District two, yourself if it weren’t for everything that has happened there. Victor’s village is a ghost town, and you found out the other day that not only are you the only surviving victor from two--your childhood home was burnt down.

So, if you go back to District Two, you’ll have to deal with the reconstruction of the main town, and buy yourself a freshly painted, picket-white-fence house. Or you can go to your fucking victor house that reeks like rotten food and spoiled milk.

However, if you don’t choose there, you can certainly start all the fucking way over in the Capitol. The only thing that would even slightly suggest your background are those apartment complexes. And the more you think about it, the more you’re beginning to consider burning them down.

Of course, you can’t touch the mansion. But everything else can go. They’re not a vital part of your history, and they certainly don’t deserve to continue to stand anymore.

As you’re staring around the room, Johanna catches your eye again because she’s staring straight at you. You’re about to roll your eyes and look away, but she mouths something.

Your eyes narrow, “Say it aloud.”

Finnick’s words falter and he looks down at you, “What?”

You ignore him, “Go on, say it Johanna.”

“What? Can’t read lips?” Johanna says.

“You’re a pussy.” you tell her, “If you can’t say it out loud, you’re a fucking pussy.”

“Is that right?” she grins.

You sneer, “You can enjoy yourself now, but the moment we leave the room, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

She snorts, “Yeah, right.”

You stand, slamming your hands against the table as you lean forward, “You want to see me actually lose it? Because this time I’ll do a lot more than smash your head against a fucking rock!”

“(Y/n).” Coin’s looking at you with wide eyes, “For your sake, I hope that’s an empty threat.”

“It wasn’t.” Finnick tells her, and then his attention is turned, “If you think that I’m going to stop her, you’re wrong.”

“It’s cute how you pretend to care about her, when she clearly doesn’t care about you.”

“Say that to all the times she saved my life on the way here.” Finnick tells her, “Sit, (Y/n), please.”

“I swear to god, Johanna. Say shit one more time and I’ll settle for killing you in here.” you sit back in the chair, elbows on the table as you clench and unclench your hand.

Right after, the door opens again. Everyone turns their gaze to who’s joined you all.

“What’s this?”

“The remaining victors, won’t you join us?” Coin asks, motioning to the table and the one single chair that’s open for Katniss. It’s right between Peeta and Haymitch.

It takes a moment, but she slowly makes her way around the table, taking her spot. Everyone else follows her lead, taking a seat in their chairs and their different poses.

You watch as Annie blankly stares at Finnick, until her eyes shift away once she realizes you’re watching.

“I have invited you all here for several reasons. But first, I have an announcement, I have taken the burden and the honor of declaring myself interim president of Panem.” Coin says.

Your eyes drag to her. You can’t say you’re surprised, you literally called it just a few minutes ago.

Haymitch coughs like he’s choking on his own spit, “Interim? Exactly, how long is that?”

“We have no way of knowing for certain. But it’s clear that the people are far too emotional right now to make a rational decision.”

“Maybe you should consider a council instead.” you suggest, but your voice is hollow, “Y’know, so you’re not taking this burden entirely?”

“We’ll plan an election when the time is right.” Coin says, indirectly answering your statement, “But I have called you all here for a far more important vote, a symbolic vote. This afternoon we will execute Snow. Hundreds of his accomplices also await their deaths, Capitol officials, peacekeepers, torturers, gamemakers.”

You bite the inside of your lip again, trying to bite your tongue. You want to criticize everything she says. There’s so many flaws, and the others have to see this too, right?

“But the danger is, once we begin the rebels won’t stop calling for retribution. Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. So, I offer an alternative plan. Majority for may approve it, no one may abstain.” She says carefully, “My proposal is this; in lieu of these barbaric executions, we hold a symbolic hunger games.”

Haymitch slowly lowers his tea cup.

Silence fills the room instantly after. As well as the looks on the other’s faces. Mainly the horror that Annie expresses, the little smirk forming on Johanna’s face, and the deadpan look that Katniss hasn’t lifted since she sat down in her chair.

Then, Johanna starts laughing, “You want to have another hunger games with the Capitol’s children?”

You dig your fingernails into the skin on your thumb.

“You’re joking.” Peeta says.

Coin shakes her head, “Not in the slightest.”

Haymitch scoffs, “Is this Plutarch’s idea?”

“It was mine.” Coin says.

Johanna clicks her pen once or twice, the smile on her face growing.

“It balances the need for revenge,” Coin reasons, “With the least loss of human life. You may cast your votes.”

“No.” Peeta nearly overlaps her speaking, “No, obviously not, this is crazy.”

Johanna leans forward, “I think it’s more than fair. Snow’s got a granddaughter. I say yes.” She looks at Peeta after, like she’s trying to strike a nerve.

“Johanna has a point.” you say, which makes a lot of heads turn, but your eyes are on Coin, “My vote is yes.”

“You guys, this way of thinking is what started the uprises.” Peeta says.

“I vote no, with Peeta.” Annie says.

“I vote no too.” Finnick says, and he looks at you, “After everything that happened to you? You really want to say yes?”

You lean towards him, “Some of those motherfuckers have sons and daughters. My vote stands.”

“No. We need to stop viewing each other as enemies.” Beetee says, you nearly forgot he was there because of how quiet he’s been.

It’s down to just Haymitch and Katniss. Katniss is staring right at Coin, “I get to kill Snow.”

“I expected no less of you.” Coin says, a smile hinting at her lips.

That rubs you the wrong way, and you can tell it does the same for Katniss, even if nothing physically changes. It’s the way Katniss pauses before speaking next, that gives it away, “Then I vote yes. For Prim.”

“Haymitch?” Coin asks, Katniss slowly turns her head to him.

They stare at each other for a moment before he decides his answer, “I’m with the mockingjay.”

“That carries the vote, excellent. We’ll announce the games tonight, after the execution.” Coin says, a smile is on her face.

You get up from the table, “Sounds good to me.”

Your eyes land on Finnick, eyebrows raised. He catches the drift and gets up from where he’s sitting.

“We’ll see you guys later.”

The two of you leave the room with no comments from anyone else. The moment that the door has shut behind Finnick, he’s on your ass.

“You seriously voted yes?”

“I’m out for blood.”

“I can tell.” Finnick says, he catches up with your pace, “I’ve been thinking about what you wanted.”

You slow a little, allowing him a chance to speak without it being rushed.

He takes this as a sign to keep talking, “Before you get mad, I know what you said, alright. You want a fresh start, away from people you know. District Four is like that.”

“Except for the fact that your ex-girlfriend is going to go back there too.”

“She isn’t.” he says.

You look over.

“She’s going to stay with Katniss’ mom or something. I talked to Annie last night to make sure I heard everything right. District Four is ours for the taking. It’s a fresh start to you, and it’s home for me.”

Finnick’s got a look on his face, and with the way that he’s already calmed you down immensely--he’s been getting better at it, lately--you can’t help but to be compliant.

“What happens when your neighbors hate me?” you ask, “Or we fight?”

“Easy, we get you a vacation house here.” Finnick’s proud of this one, he’s got a smile on his face, “You’ll be able to come here whenever you want. Live your life of luxury, and then come home.”

You stop walking now, “You’re sure you want me to go there, though? You want me around?”

Finnick laughs, coming closer. He’s gentle with the way he cups your jaw with one hand, looking down at you, “Honey, I’ve been chasing you around this entire time. I’m not going to stop now.”

You squint at him, “Honey?”

A smile appears on his face, and you can’t help but to smile too.

“Don’t let it get to your head.” Finnick says, running his thumb over your cheek.

“I let everything get to my head.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter eighteen

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Prevaricate (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 7.5k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

a big thanks to the anon that gave me this idea!

–

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” one of the mentors warns Finnick, even going as far to try and grab him.

Finnick brushes them off without a second blink. He gives his mentors a certain look to shut them up, and then he turns towards your direction. You stand next to the chariot, arms crossed with a mean scowl on your face. Your back is turned towards your friends, so it makes him curious about what had happened between the four of you.

Finnick heads in your direction, digging his index nail into his thumb. He stops beside you, a foot or two away as he waits for you to realize that he’s there. Only, you don’t see him, and it raises a little bit of irritation in his own mind.

He went from such a good mood to sour in no time…

His eyes wander over your floral tattoos, resisting the urge to reach out and touch them. That won’t raise a good reaction from you, “So, was the outfit purposely designed to show off your tattoos, or was it all a coincidence?”

Once he sees your head turning, he tries to offer a nice smile, to try and be welcoming. Only to be met with those same glaring eyes that you were giving the horses. It’s not really a surprise, he shouldn’t expect your mood to lift just because you’re talking to someone.

He continues to dig his fingernail into his thumb.

You readjust your crossed arms, your hands forming into fists. Finnick resists the urge to make some sort of comment about it. About his presence being somewhat irritating for you or whatever.

“I can’t wait to add you to my graveyard, Odair.” you snap at him.

His eyes have wandered to your right arm--his left--to see the skulls. Black and white, and they’ve got a first and last name to each of them. He leans a little to get a better look, wondering if he’ll recognize any of them, “Is that so?” his eyes meet yours, “You’ll have to catch me first.”

“It’ll be easy, since you’ll be caring for grandma over there.” you say, you jerk your head, his eyes move right back to your arm.

How can you be so hostile all the time? It’s like someone has always pissed in your coffee, you’re hardly pleasant to anyone, especially those you’re making a first impression on. As far as Finnick remembers, he’s never actually met you before, never had the chance to. You got your girl and boy victors, and then handed off the job of mentoring to them like you didn’t care for the job at all.

Hell, Finnick’s found it hard to let go of it.

“Oh really?” Finnick asks, paying attention but trying not to let his irritation shine through.

You’d be such a useful ally to have. With your history of the games, anyone would be sorry not to have you in their alliance. And you volunteered--there’s a plan going on in that head of yours, and he’s got to know.

“What do you want from me?” you ask.

Finnick has gone back to your left arm--his right. This arm isn’t as painful to look at, it’s almost lovely. A very different feel than you give off. If someone had told him that you had such a work on your arm, he wouldn’t believe it. Not with how bitter you are. Bitter and mean.

“Hmm?” he hums, his eyes are stuck on one particular name, it seems a lot more special than the others. Bolded, calligraphy writing. The tattoo artist who wrote this did a phenomenal job, “Who’s Paesyn?”

Finnick sees one large, blur of moment coming from you. His eyes widen for a second, trying to access the situation in what little time he has. Your arm is drawn back, heading straight for his cheek. Finnick catches your wrist in record time, mere inches from his skin. Had you done it, his face would be stinging and he’d have to go out there with a hand mark on his face.

Finnick looks over you measuredly, tilting his head a tad to the right, looking over your face, “You’re hot headed.”

It’s all it takes before you’re screaming in his face.

“You’re a nosy, self-centered, Capitol-raised bitch!” The first sentence leaves your mouth, and it’s enough to turn the heads of your fellow careers friends. Finnick doesn’t mind this, he’s more worried about what’s stirring in his heart, anger, “You’re so cynical that you can’t read a fucking room! You think everyone likes you. You think you can do whatever you want!” you suck in a lung-full of air, “News flash, Finnick Odair, you’re nothing but another pretty face in the sea of victors that are here. No one likes you, as they should.”

Strong opinions, he has to admit it. You yank your wrist free, and Finnick’s eyes widen a little, fearing that you’ll try and hit him again, but you continue shouting, “You’re a filthy human being. I’ll be praying that your death is the first on my hands. I can’t wait until that pathetic girlfriend of yours gets to watch as your body is lowered into a six-foot-deep ditch.”

Suddenly his face is dropping all together, all kindness that he was bothering to have for a decent conversation is gone. That anger only builds when he sees the smug look on your face, as if you think you’ve done something, mentioning Annie like this. Talking about her like she doesn’t have a mind of her own.

She’s human, just like the rest of you.

“You say nothing about Annie.” Finnick can hardly recognize his own voice.

“I can saying whatever the fuck I want about her.” when you stand taller, Finnick clenches his fist, gritting his teeth, your next words should be careful, but they aren’t, “You just don’t like to hear it, because it’s all true.”

Finnick starts forward, full intent of knocking your front teeth out, but there’s peacekeepers appearing between the two of you. One stands in front of Finnick, urging him to go to his own chariot. Finnick grinds his teeth.

Then he catches that fucking look you’re giving him over the peacekeeper’s shoulder, and then he’s resiting a whole new level of anger.

A murderous rage.

Finnick loops the rope, pulling the side through to make a second loop. Then, he prepares the end. At the sound of the automatic door whizzing shut, he looks up from his project. Mostly hoping for Katniss and Peeta, but getting you instead.

He’s a lot calmer today, the irritation yesterday definitely wasn’t his fault. He realized that after the tribute parade, when you had come over to apologize. You were much calmer then, and even though the apology of what you said was reluctant, he accepted it anyway.

Having you as an ally wouldn’t hurt. Especially now, with a plan being worked on in the background. Hell, he even asked his mentors to request you as an ally. He didn’t go for Brutus, or the siblings. It was you specifically, because there’s some sort of feeling in his stomach that’s telling him it’s right.

Finnick doesn’t pay too much attention to what you’re doing. One moment you’re talking to the other three careers, and the next you’re working on hand-to-hand combat with one of the Capitol soldiers. He tries not to stare too much, but watching the way you move around the blocks, always knowing where to step, how to move.

It’s entrancing, he can’t help but barely hold onto the mess of rope in his hands, twitching in the directions he would have gone with the moves that the soldier is pulling. It would have gotten Finnick down, but you knew that the soldier wanted you to move that way, so you went the other.

One surge of satisfaction goes through him when you kick the man down. You seem pretty happy yourself, blowing the hair out of your face and going to make conversation with the man. Finnick decides that it’s now or never, tossing the rope onto the cold, cement bench as he heads your way.

You help the man back onto his feet, he sits at one of the lower blocks, and you head upwards, swinging the staff in your hand. Finnick stops a couple of feet away from you, like he did the day before. But now he has to be even more wary; you’ve got a weapon in your hands.

And even though fighting before the hunger games isn’t allowed, it hasn’t stopped either of you yet. You’ve already tried to slap him, and Finnick had the full intent of knocking your teeth out yesterday. Needless to say, the two of you shouldn’t be anywhere near each other, but Finnick has to.

“So what did you tell your mentor?” Finnick asks politely.

You roll your eyes, letting them land on him, “You’re impossible to get rid of.”

Finnick watches as you gracefully take a seat on the block, letting one of your legs dangle, while the other is crossed beneath the thigh. You set the staff next to you, rolling it with your palm.

He can see just how close he’s stopped to you, and so he takes a step or two back. It doesn’t bother him that he has to look up, it’s rather the angle he’s getting. He wants to see you fully, access your body language. Yesterday it had saved him, and today it’ll help him choose his words more carefully.

“What have I ever done to you?” Finnick asks.

“Nothing, thank god.” you nearly laugh, eyes looking him over like you’re sizing him up, Finnick isn’t bothered, “Your existence is enough to set me off.”

Finnick can’t help but to frown a bit, “That’s unfair.”

“Life is unfair. Not everyone has to be pleased with your presence.” you squint, but there’s no sense of hostility just yet.

It’s clear that your speaking patterns are always meant to be mean, hit home close to the person. It’s undoubtedly what happened with your career friends yesterday, with him, and then today with those same careers. You’re always saying something that might be seen as insensitive.

Finnick smiles now, “Oh, I know.”

“I don’t know why you’re so insistent with me in particular. There’s other girls for you to try and swoon.” you motion with the hand that’s still rolling the staff, “Johanna, Cecelia, Wiress, Katniss.”

“Katniss is seventeen.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” One of your eyebrows raise, it’s a challenge.

She’s clearly referring to his unfortunate time in the Capitol during his youth. Leave it to her to bring up a topic like that, but it’s really like the pot calling the kettle black. He’s not the only one, you’ve been there and done that too.

“I don’t associate with minors, (Y/n).” Finnick says, making sure that it sticks. He wants you to catch the hint that you’re not like those… people...

It seems to fly right over your head, “That’s right, because you have a girlfriend.”

Finnick presses his lips together, eyes squinting. You’re not really going to wander down this path again, are you? This time he might pull you right down from the blocks and give you a taste of your own medicine right before the peacekeepers come over. And what are the gamemakers going to do about it? Nothing.

“Back to your original question, no, I’m not going to be your ally.” you say, letting go of the staff that you had gripped for a moment.

Finnick raises his head again, he hadn’t realized he lowered it. Either way, it seems like he’s out of a valuable ally. Even if neither of you get along… he’s gotta have you. This won’t be the end, you have to join him and the others. It’s not really a choice anymore.

“Is it because of your distaste for me?” Finnick wonders, eyebrows drawing together.

“You really could have anyone in this room be your ally, and yet you choose me. Why is that?” you ask, “Is it because I’m mean or difficult?”

He wants to tell you that it isn’t either of them. It’s because you’re dangerous, prepared. That when you volunteered, you had that same dark look on your face that your tributes showed year after year. A certain determination and goal, and they’d do anything to get to it.

He has to lie, he doesn’t have a choice. He can’t risk you knowing, not now. No doubt you’d run off and tell every ear that’s open to listen, “I’m just curious on how well the alliance would be able to hold up in the arena.” Finnick tilts his head, following what you’ve done, “How fast you would try to kill me.”

“Immediately.” you say without missing a beat.

Finnick can’t say he’s surprised, “You’re telling me that I haven’t grown on you at least a little, now? After all the conversations we’ve had.”

You hold up your hand, pressing on your fingers. Finnick knows this ought to be good, if you’re naming points now, “The first one, I called you a cynical prick, the second I was forced to apologize for being too mean and hurting your crybaby feelings, and you’re telling me that this one isn’t any better?”

“Crybaby feelings?” Finnick wants to laugh. Him having crybaby feelings? All he did was mention a name on your arm and suddenly you were on your way to slap him. There was a big difference between your guys’ reactions. He was defending Annie, and you were just being a bitch.

The urge to laugh is gone once he sees the look on your face, “So you didn’t run off to cry to your mentors?”

“You did try to hit me, after all.” Finnick reasons, he also wants to tell you that everyone has their own two eyes, so they were bound to see for themselves, but he tries a nicer approach “They wanted to know what happened.”

“Right, sure.” you roll your eyes.

Finnick smiles, “You’re cute, you know that?”

There’s a change of expression immediately. Your whole face deadpans, eyes narrowing, mouth curling into a snarl. You turn a little red, and if this were a cartoon, there’d be steam coming out of your ears.

It was a harmless statement to him, but clearly you don’t like it. With your jaw all wound up, hand gripping the staff like you’re going to swing it towards him. He guesses that you don’t like the word labeled on you. If he were to take another guess, it’d likely be because you’re never been cute, you’ve always been fire or ice.

Being seen as cute is being seen as vulnerable.

An innocent mistake to him is a grave mistake to you.

Finnick can’t help but to notice a fire crackling in his own chest. He reaches up, rubbing the area because he doesn’t understand it for a moment. He doesn’t feel the need to be defensive, it’s not him that was offended. So, there’s no reason to get mad, not even for you not taking his statement the right way.

It can’t be his own emotion, then. It must be someone else’s.

Finnick looks back up to you, fixing the frown that was beginning to creep onto his face, “Listen, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He watches as you take a deep breath, calming yourself. It seems to work remarkably well, your face begins to return back to its natural color and your face smoothes cooly. No longer gripping the staff--but not rolling it either--your voice is measured, “I am not cute. No matter the way you mean it, I’m not a cute person, and I never will be.”

The fire in his own chest seems to cease, Finnick stops rubbing his hand against his chest in that moment. And his mind takes off with one peculiar thought.

It’s a little weird that he had begun to feel defensive the same moment that your face turned that red color. Then you calmed down, and that burning feeling in his chest also calmed down.

It all has to be a coincidence, right? It’s a coincidence.

Anyway, it was just as he guessed, you don’t like the gentle things that would change your label from hard to soft. So, instead he takes a different approach. Nodding, he says; “I guess what I should have said is that you’re funny.”

“Funny how?” you’re defensive again, “Funny because I get mad so easily?”

“That and the fact that you also think you’re unlikable. Here’s a newsflash for you: you’re not.” Finnick smiles a little.

“People pretend to like me because they know what happens when they don’t.” you lean towards him, and he knows it’s for an intimidation factor, “I’m sure you can take a solid guess on what I mean.”

Finnick lets out a small laugh, “What, you threaten to kill everyone you don’t like?”

“You’ve been on my list for a pretty long time now.” you say, there’s a head tilt that goes along with it, “I’m lucky that I finally get to fall through on that.”

A list, huh? He’s not bothered by the fact that you don’t like him, you’ve made that clear plenty of times now. But who else could you possibly want to take down with you? Not the careers, he doesn’t think, you’ll want them for your alliance, “Who else is on your list?” Finnick finally asks, hoping that you don’t catch on, “Genuine question.”

If he can find out anyone else that you don’t like and plan on killing, then it’ll be a lot easier to steer them out of your path. Especially if it’s Katniss or Peeta. If you don’t like them, then you’re bound to go after them no matter what it takes.

“Everyone who has ever done me wrong.” You say simply, there’s a smile on your face.

“Give me an example,” he urges, and then adds, “Besides myself.”

You don’t catch on, “For starters--” you turn your body when you speak. He thinks it’s because you’re searching for the person you’re speaking of, but your finger lands on her easily. You had to have been keeping track of where she’s been moving around. Finnick takes note of that--you’re observant. You continue speaking, “--her.”

Katniss is sitting with Wiress and Betee at the fire starting station. They pay little to no attention to the Capitol person working there. They observe, though, happily. As if they don’t care that they don’t actually get to start, but instead that the tributes already know what they’re doing, well.

Katniss is most definitely making friends like Haymitch had said she would. She was reluctant at the start, but Haymitch said she’d come around. And here she is, choosing two of the most useless tributes to want. Nuts and Volts--as Johanna calls them.

“What has she done?” Finnick’s on the verge of a laugh, he can likely guess why you don’t like her either, but keeps it to himself.

There’s a smile on your face already, when he looks at you, “I’m not one to fight for spotlight, but this year is different.”

Spotlight? You’re here because you want to gain more attention?

He can’t say that he isn’t surprised. He was expecting something else from you. He’s not sure what of, but it wouldn’t be some dumb glory of a two-timing winner. With what you said, there’s no doubt in Finnick’s mind that it’s also what the other careers--Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus--also volunteered for.

Finnick can’t place his finger on it. He just didn’t think you’d want to go back in. Especially since you were so quick to give away your mentor position to your two tributes, as if the job didn’t matter at all. Most career mentors like to live the games through their tributes after they win. It’s the bloodlust that makes them want to go back in for more.

And now he knows that you really are after Katniss, and with that would probably be Peeta too. Which means that the others are likely to follow your lead when it comes to hunting them down…

Makes the situation a whole lot more complicated. Trying to convince you to join his alliance is nearly out the window. There’s no way you’ll be down for what’s being planned if your whole goal is to kill Katniss, Peeta, himself and whoever else. You’ll likely fake your way through the alliance and then try to kill the twelve tributes when you get the chance.

What doesn’t help is that you want the glory. The whole idea is one half of a step from being out the window at this point. Finnick wonders if it’ll be possible to change your mind on it. But with that, he’d have to tell you about the plan, and since you’re District Two--you’re a Capitol Pet…

Finnick can’t leave you hanging, “Because you think you’re going to win?”

“I know I am. And it’ll all work out once I get rid of the only threats. You can identify those on your own, right?” you ask, picking up the staff and deciding to roll it back and forth on your thighs instead. The conversation is nearly over, he knows it, “I didn’t volunteer because I thought I could win. I volunteered because I know I can.”

A certain pride fills his body, it’s in his chest area again. There’s no need to be prideful, especially right now. It’s not his emotion--his emotion would be… oh, he doesn’t know anymore. There’s so much to consider now.

“So, you, Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus in an alliance?” Finnick finally asks, trying to change the topic. Even though he knows he should continue asking questions. But then he’ll risk the chance of being seen as suspicious.

You glance over your shoulder the same moment Finnick’s eyes shift over. He can barely see around the blocks that you’re sitting on to see them. All he can really see is Brutus, and he’s got a certain smug smile on his face. It’s definitely directed towards you and not him.

You look back at Finnick, “What do you think?”

“I wonder where my invitation is at.” Finnick looks at you too.

“You think we’re going to invite you, when you’re clearly going to drag in Mags? Yeah, you’d be just as bad as Peeta.” you roll your eyes.

Mags is no surprise, but Peeta? That’s new information. He thought you’d see Peeta as another threat, considering he was in the career pack last year.

His eyebrows raise, “What?”

“Peeta is practically dead already, look at how useless he is.” you jut your chin, and Finnick turns halfway to see Peeta.

Peeta’s with Johanna now. Johanna is swinging around her axe, practicing her skills and probably showing off to the gamemakers to get a higher score. He doesn’t know because he only had a brief conversation with her. Peeta’s standing off to the side, out of reach of Johanna. The two of them seem to be talking.

“Does he even know how to fight?” you laugh, it’s a mean laugh.

“Big talk.” Finnick gives you a glance.

“No, just common sense.” you say, moving on, “What about you, Mister Cynical, any alliances?”

What a stupid nickname. The definition of cynical is to think only for yourself. It’s a way to call someone selfish, but the word cynical seems a lot more harsh. It’s a word that no one uses very often.

Finnick turns back to you. He’s going to lie through his teeth, “No, not yet. I was hoping you’d accept my offer to kickstart it.” Why would he bother to offer you into an alliance that you’d likely ditch and ruin? He’d rather you think it was just him and you, and have it be a ‘coincidence’ inside of the arena when the other two join.

“I doubt that you don’t have any alliances by now. No Johanna or Blight? Or are you teamed up with Katniss and Peeta?” Finnick can feel his blood run cold, you’re better at this than he thought. With the way your eyes are running up and down over his face, you’re definitely scanning for something. And then the word that he labeled you with comes to mind; observant, “Or perhaps, both?”

“Stop that.” Finnick snaps before he can catch it.

A teasing smile hints at your face as you suck in your bottom lip. You lean back on your hands, cheerful that you were able to decipher it, “Both it is. It’s nice to know who to look out for and avoid. Now I’ll know that where one goes–the others will follow. I need to know one more thing though, before I end this conversation.”

Finnick’s eyes have drifted, because now he’s mad at himself. He’s blown this entire thing. He looks at you.

“Were you inviting me into the alliance because you want me to fight alongside you guys, or because you wanted to trap me and be able to take me out first?”

At this point, he doesn’t know anymore. Having you fight with them would be fantastic, but with your mindset on the other tributes, he’d have to kill you first. Forget the others--they might have the same goals, but they won’t go to the extent you will.

It’s a long moment of you and Finnick staring at each other. Then, you place the staff on the block, using it to help get to your feet, “Hey, you don’t have to answer, I’ll be finding out soon enough, eh?” you’re spinning the staff between your fingers, “I will be keeping this convo to myself, though. So don’t worry about it.”

No, he will worry. Because this is all it takes. You having a vague idea of the alliance will be enough to make it crumble.

You slam the staff into the block, giving Finnick one last grin before you’re turning around and leaving. Finnick doesn’t stick around too long after, heading towards Mags, hoping that she’ll have some idea of what to do now that he’s screwed it all up.

Finnick readjusts the sleeve against his left arm, playing with the fabric at the end of the sleeve. There’s a string that he’s tried to rip off several times now, and it just won’t break off. Even Mags couldn’t get it to part. So now, he’ll just have to deal with it. It’s too late to go back to the apartment.

Especially now since he’s made it to the waiting room. The doors open for him and Mags, the two of them move into the room calmly. Inside, he can see that there are a few districts already inside, with all the careers being there first, respectively. He wouldn’t doubt if you all were the first to sit down, even.

Just as he walks in, you’re pulling off the jacket that you’re wearing, which unintentionally makes it look like you’re showing off your tattoos. In reality, you’re probably warm.

Doesn’t stop him from commenting, “Welcome to the gun show.”

“I really can’t wait until I can knock your fucking teeth out.” you seethe.

“I’m not that bad.” Finnick laughs.

“You are that bad.” you say, not turning to look at him, “I still don’t know what your goal is.”

“I thought we could be friends.” The right word is allies, as it’s been the entire time. But you won’t bite. You didn’t even bite when you thought that he would be teamed up with Johanna, Blight, Katniss or Peeta. Which he thought was a little odd when he finally had time to think it over, later on with Mags.

“You thought wrong, my friends are sitting right here.” You say, and Finnick doesn’t miss the snicker that comes out of Brutus.

Huh. Looks like your mouth really isn’t growing on them. He’s not surprised.

“Who says you have to stop there?” Finnick asks, it’s a genuine question.

You don’t see it that way, “For fuck’s sake, just leave me alone.”

He does leave you alone, and instead starts a conversation with Mags. Even if it is relatively one-sided, she seems to be engrossed in it all the same. Before he knows it, the room has filled with all the tributes, and Gloss is being called in for his individual assessment.

After Gloss comes Cashmere, and after Cashmere comes Brutus. Brutus and you share an exchange of words, and it really just leaves you there. After you go in, there’s two tributes before he goes in It makes him a little sick to his stomach to know that it’s so close. He’s not normally such a nervous guy, but these games have got him all sorts of tangled up in anxiety.

Finnick looks over to see that he’s not the only one. You’re also looking a tad pale, yourself. The leg bouncing gives it all away, “Is The (Y/n) Rosecelli nervous?” Finnick’s amused, it’s nice to know that you’re not all high and mighty as you like to make everyone think.

“I’m not.” you say in a relatively innocent tone.

“You’re bouncing your leg like you’re trying to get it to fall off.” Finnick points out.

Your leg stops then, and you take a deep breath, leaning into your hands as you rub your face, “I’m not nervous, someone else is.”

“Someone else?” Finnick asks, he’s confused.

You look over your shoulder at him, “As much as playing stupid looks on you, don’t start now.”

Finnick is quiet, and then he sputters out a laugh, “You have a soulmate?”

“Everyone does. Mine just happens to be emotional, which is a total drag.” you hiss, Finnick’s eyebrows draw in together, “I don’t need to be feeling like this right now.”

“I heard taking deep breaths are a fantastic way to calm yourself down.” He suggests, it’s once again, genuine. But you must not see it that way again, because you ignore him.

You sit up taller, he can’t see your face at all, but he can imagine you’ve got your eyes closed. While you’re doing this, his own stomach churning comes to a slow, and even a stop. The stomach ache that was brewing is now replaced with something much more powerful; confidence.

You take in a deep breath, probably open your eyes, cross your legs, and you continue to sit tall.

The confidence has something underlying beneath it, maybe his own queasiness, because he’s got a disgusting thought that’s running wild in his mind, and it hasn’t died just yet, “Wow--”

“Zip it.” You snap.

Right after, “District Two, (Y/n) Rosecelli. Report for individual assessment.” the voice over the intercom says.

You stand from where you sat, tossing the jacket over your arm and waiting patiently for Brutus to come out. The two of you exchange words again, and then you’re going inside. Leaving him once again.

But this time it’s much more dangerous, because he’s got this fear that’s only blossoming the more he sits here, staring at the door. It’s just a coincidence. It has to be a coincidence, right?

However, it’s all lined up so far. The tribute parade, with how the interaction went. How he felt so fine just before he went up to you--no, not fine. He felt irritated, it’s why he was digging his nail into his finger, to try and cease it. And it wasn’t until the parade was over, did he feel back to normal.

Then the tribute center, during those three days. The first day when you went from your normal, mean self to pissy in half a second after he called you cute, and how he felt that in his chest. Then later that day, when Katniss was shooting arrows and everyone had gathered to watch, he felt something else. Something much scarier than everything else he felt so far--jealousy. It was pure envy.

And it continued throughout those other two days. Whenever you were angry, there was something boiling inside of him too. Finally, today. Today just now before you had gone inside. You went from being ‘nervous’ to being confident, and he felt the change too.

He’s been trying to tell himself that it’s all coincidence, but it has to be a hell of a coincidence in that case. There’s something inside of him telling him that it’s not, and he’s finally found the one. But there really is no way to tell until the words are said.

He pulls up the left sleeve, staring down at the words, “I should kill you right here.”

Finnick leans against the wall, hands in his pants pockets. He watches as his fellow competitors all come out of their rooms, one by one, wearing their outfits. Some are gorgeous, others are plain ugly and he finds himself lucky that he has such a laid-back stylist. What he’s wearing is comfortable, what they’re wearing is the opposite.

Cashmere and Gloss group up with Brutus pretty early on. The siblings have gone on some silver sequin outfits that are definitely going to catch every single light that lands on them. Right now they look ridiculous, but not nearly as ridiculous as Brutus--who looks like he belongs in a roman coliseum.

Ten more minutes pass, and another door is open. Finnick raises his head from where he’s staring at his black boots. And his eyes land right on you, wearing a dress that blows everyone else out of the water. Not even Katniss will be able to compare, he thinks.

You head straight for your ‘friends’ first, talking to them for a moment. Then, you turn your head in his direction, quite possibly by accident. Either way, Finnick takes his left hand out of his pocket, beckoning you towards him with his index finger. After that, he takes a step back, and then another, and disappears around the corner.

He stops pretty far into the empty hallway, mostly because he doesn’t want anyone who’s walking through the hall to hear the conversation that’s about to happen between the two of you.

Finnick crosses his arms, smiling at the corner. There’s a hundred things that he wants to say, and he’s going to say most of them. Because he’s so entirely amused that you went from not wanting an alliance to wanting one.

But as usual, he can take a solid guess as to why you’d want an alliance now. And it starts with Katniss and Peeta both receiving twelves on their training scores. You would have been a fool not to request him as an ally then. Unfortunately, he’s a lot smarter than you give him credit for, so his answer is going to be no.

You make a wide turn around the corner, in your hands are fistfuls of the dress that you’re wearing, likely so you won’t step on the fabric. When you’re close enough, he begins talking, “What happened to being too good for an alliance with me?”

“I came to my senses,” you flash him a very white smile, “I realized that it might be good to have you around, after all.”

“It has nothing to do with the fact that Katniss and Peeta got twelve’s?” Finnick tilts his head.

You both know he’s got you caught, “Partially. Forget hanging around with Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus. I want a place in whatever you have.”

“Fat chance.” he says, and he watches your smile fade.

“Why not?” your eyebrows are drawn together.

Finnick resists the urge to roll his eyes. The statement you made yesterday about ‘playing stupid’ comes to mind, and he also resists the urge to say that to you, “You know why. I don’t want you killing my allies.”

“Want them all to yourself?” He watches your right eyebrow raise, “Tell me Finnick, are you going to be able to protect them when they rush towards the cornucopia tomorrow?”

Finnick opens his mouth for a moment like he has nothing to say, “They can take care of themselves.”

“Let’s see, you’ll be taking care of Mags, and Katniss will be taking care of Peeta because he’s nothing but a sack of flour–how ironic. If you have me there, I can basically be a bodyguard.”

“Until you kill one of us in our sleep, right?” Finnick scans your face the same way you were scanning his just days ago, “You’re mistaking me for something that I’m not.”

“Everyone is going to kill each other one way or another.” you say, “I won’t have to do it early on, that’s the whole point of alliances. I keep you guys around until we start to turn on each other.”

“What if we don’t have those intentions?” Finnick asks, he’s hinting at the plan. You’re observant, you have to know that there’s more. If you can read into an alliance, you can read into something that would be seen as innocent in anyone else’s eyes.

It worked. You open your mouth, close it. And then you try again with speaking; “What are you planning?”

This is really the only chance he’s gotten in the last couple of days. He’s been wanting a moment like this, despite the fact that it might blow the cover entirely--but that’s happened once already. And if he doesn’t give you an answer, then you’ll just find one of your own, “Tell me, (Y/n), are you a loyalist?”

He watches you go stiff, staring and waiting for an answer. He can feel some feeling that he’s never felt before, stirring in his stomach. He can’t place his finger on it.

Suddenly, you’re closing your mouth, eyes blank and distant. Slowly, you begin to press your lips together. To him, it looks like you’re not entirely in your own body, rather you’re just a passenger.

You’re dead for another moment, until you take your time with coming back to life, “You are bold.” your stare is still very blank, and you don’t answer his question either, “And careless for asking me a question like that outright.”

Finnick’s face twists now, “Are you, though?” he’s hoping that he didn’t just blow this.

You’re still silent.

“Yes or no.” Finnick urges.

“I’m not going to answer that question.” you say, you’re back now, “Because I don’t know what you’re up to, and I don’t want to. Forget the alliance thing, I change my mind.”

Finnick watches you turn to walk away, and he catches your arm before you go. Maybe you’re not answering because you’re scared that this is a plan to get you in trouble, “I could tell you.” he offers.

“Why would you want to?” you squint.

Finnick lets go of your arm, “Because having you on our side could be useful.”

“Useful for what?” you’re quiet now, “Getting everyone else in District Two to follow behind all the other rioting districts?”

It’s Finnick’s turn to freeze and stare. It looks like he was right about the observant thing, except your whole mind must have run with that idea in the minutes you thought about it. Letting it sizzle, and then turning it over to get a whole new perspective.

His eyes widen, and he swallows.

“We have nothing to complain about, Finnick. We’ve got the good life.”

“And everyone else? What about the people who don’t have the good life? The ones that fight to live everyday? What about them?” he asks, you’ve got to have some compassion.

You nod slowly, thinking, “Well, I’m not a loyalist and I’m not too fond of being considered a traitor either.”

He’s gotten through to you somewhat. You’re right there.

“You’re after the glory of being a legend, right?” Finnick asks, he watches as you take a step back. Clearly you weren’t expecting him to realize what you were after, either, “This is better than that. People will know that you were the first person from District Two to hop on and lead. You want people to look up to you, here it is.”

Someone appears at the corner that the two of you had passed. Finnick looks over, and soon you are too. Haymitch is standing there, “Interviews have started.” his eyebrows are together. Haymitch is going to ask a lot of questions later about this interaction.

“Thanks.” Finnick says, Haymitch goes back to where he came from, “Don’t make the decision now, but if you do want to join us, come and find me inside of the arena.”

You look at him, “You’re going to run to the cornucopia, I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not. Which is why I think you’ll make the right decision.” Finnick tells you.

You scoff, “Right decision? You know what you’re asking, right?” and then you laugh, shaking your head as you pull up your dress so you can walk away, “How do I know if any of this is even true?” he doesn’t say anything, “Exactly, this could be some sort of sick ruse just to draw me in to kill me and get me out of the way. I didn’t come here to be killed, I came here to win. And you’re going to have to fight me for it.”

You shake your head a final time, before you’re turning and leaving.

Finnick looks up at the ceiling, trying to get his heart to stop beating so much. That was such a risk to take, and he’s not even sure if it was worth it to do. Just getting the thought in your mind was…

He shakes his own head.

It was worth it. At least now you’ll be thinking about it. Maybe even make you hesitate inside the arena.

The arena is hot. Finnick’s been above the pedestal for only a couple of seconds now, and he can feel himself begin to sweat. Not only is the sun beating down on his shoulders, but the arena is so damn humid too. The combination of the two things is a very clear indicator that he’s going to be dehydrated soon, so the first thing he needs to do is find water.

The whole landscape seems to be in layers. In the middle is the cornucopia, which is stationed atop black rock, with twelve even spokes that go out from it. The second layer is water, which is where the tributes lie. Two tributes to each pie slice, to Finnick’s right is the lady from nine. She’s not part of the alliance.

Beyond the water, is the beach--which the spokes touch. It’s a thin beach, and beyond it is a very healthy, green and thick jungle that looks like absolute terror to deal with.

Finnick prepares himself to angle to the left, for his black rock spoke. On the other side, the other tribute seems to have the same idea. Or rather, they don’t have much of a choice. Either way, Finnick isn’t worried because he knows that he’s going to make it there first.

The gong sounds, and Finnick launches himself into the water, diving right in. Arm over head, legs kicking hard, he finds himself being comfortable. Water is easy to deal with, it’s how he won his games. He’ll be lucky if he can win the same way.

He reaches the black rock easily, placing his two hands on it. Without trouble, he hoists himself up, noticing that the other tribute hasn’t even gotten close yet. Smugly, Finnick whips his hair out of his eyes before making a bolt for the cornucopia. The trident that the gamemakers have put out, glints in the bright sun.

Finnick makes it to the box, thinking he’s made it there first. He grabs a hold of his trident, and he’s prepared to turn and take a look around, until he hears a certain plucking sound. He takes a step forward, trying to see into the cornucopia room, since that’s where the sound is coming from.

And you turn, face hard with an arrow pulled and pointed straight at his chest.

Finnick’s face twists, “You can’t actually–”

Just to prove him wrong, you let the arrow whizz right over his shoulder. He can feel the air shift--swears that you had even clipped him. Then, you speak, “I should kill you right here.”

Finnick’s mouth falls open involuntarily. It’s the words. You’ve said the words.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

You seem to realize too, and then Finnick and you stare at each other, not knowing what to say.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia prevaricate

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Seventeen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 7.5k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH AND GORE

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

An empty scream leaves your throat as you sit upright in the bed. For a moment, all you do is stare at the dresser in front of you, but then you slap a hand over your mouth, leaning forward and forcing yourself to take deep breaths in through your nose in an attempt to be quiet.

‘It’s not real,’ you think, closing your eyes, ‘I’m fine.’

The silence in the room is so overwhelming, it leaves nothing to focus on but the sweat running down your back and the fact that you’re shaking. Not even Finnick’s breathing is enough to calm you down.

You grab a fistful of the blankets, tossing them off you. As you get out of bed, you’re careful to keep quiet, taking the necklace with you. Navigating around the bed and to the corner where your socks and shoes lie is hard at first, but your eyes slowly become adjusted to the darkness.

You pull on the socks, drop the necklace into one of the boots, and then you grab the Holo with your other hand. As you make your way out of the room and through the house, you notice just how dark it is. Even at your victor house, it doesn’t get this dark. Partially because of streetlights, but also because there’s automatic lights.

They turn on and off by themselves. It keeps the house from being too dark, and since there’s a small history of victor houses being broken into; it prevents that somewhat. At least you’ll be able to see them, rather than feel the presence.

In the kitchen, it looks like either Hydri or Alioth had turned on the stove light, which is smart. A little light is better than no light. The two of them are still very passed out on the couches. Alioth has his back turned towards the couch, and Hydri is on her back, arm hanging an inch from the ground.

The perks of walking in socks means that your feet don’t stick to the hardwood, and you’re able to slide right on through without them having an idea. It’s easier than you thought it would be, considering you’re all supposed to be on edge with what’s happening.

You leave the apartment, shutting the door as quietly as possible. Outside, you fish the necklace out, put it on, and then you pull the shoes onto your feet. You drag your feet a little when it comes to the staircase, but the moment you reach the roof ladder, you pick up the pace.

After you turn on the Holo, you wander around the roof for a moment, trying to take in all the fresh air as you can. You stopped sweating a couple of minutes ago, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel hot.

You turn the Holo over in your hand while you wait for the pods to load. Hydri will know the course best, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try to figure out a path yourself. Especially since you guys seem to still be a day and a half from the mansion. The walk only gets longer, the more pods you encounter.

And since they’re nearly impossible to avoid, you have to go through all of them. It would be so much damn easier if there was a way to travel from roof to roof all day. But after a while, the distance and the height between buildings are just something you can’t mess with anymore.

You yawn, rubbing your eyes. As you take a seat by the ladder, you watch the Holo slowly come to life. You mostly expect for the landscape to be blue, but the second that the Holo loads fully, you’re getting up from where you sit and you’re moving to the sides of the roof to see the streets.

There’s no one down there, of course. But there’s so many little dots in that one single place, it’s impossible. Just a couple of hours ago, this street had been clear for at least half a mile, and now you won’t be able to take one step before stumbling into something.

It just means that someone knows you’re here.

They sent peacekeepers once before, who's to say they won’t do it again?

You turn back to the ladder, being careful as you go down it so you don’t slip and fall. You don’t really want to make too much noise, waking them up like that is bound to give someone a heart attack. But the blood is rushing in your ears, because who knows how long they’ve known you’ve been here? Or when the peacekeepers had been sent out?

It’s better to be safe than sorry.

By the time you open the door to the apartment, Finnick is leaning up the counter in the kitchen, and Hydri and Alioth are pulling on their shoes. The moment they see you in the doorway, they relax and sit against the couch.

“We thought you ran off without your stuff.” Hydri says, “We were just about to go get you.”

“We have a problem,” you say, heading straight into the living room. You grab a hold of the coffee table with one hand, yanking it all the way out into the empty space. You press a few buttons to make the Holo project the land in a 3-d way, and then you set it onto the coffee table.

It takes a moment, but it pops out, and seems to rotate a little. However, now you can see where every trap is up close. And one of them happens to be right out on the sidewalk when you go to leave the building.

You stare in silence with everyone else. Finnick slowly comes over from the counter, arms crossed. He just barely stops behind you.

“We’re screwed.” Hydri says, there’s already a map in her hand, and she’s got her finger placed over a spot.

Slowly, Hydri gets up from the couch, with Alioth loosely following. She stops right next to you and Finnick, and the two of you lean in to see where she’s got her finger at.

“No more rooftops, and we can’t go underground either. We have to leave through here.” she taps on it a couple times, and then she moves onto the hologram, sticking her hand right into it to show you guys, “And since they rigged everything ahead of us, the only way to go is back.”

She looks right at you to see what you have to say.

“Well, if they know we’re here, won’t they send someone in? More peacekeepers?”

“No, they probably figured that we know we’re trapped now, so they’re not going to bother.” Finnick shakes his head a little, “And after the stunt we pulled at the last building…”

You hum, nodding to yourself as you turn to leave for the bedroom.

You guys can’t stay here, not for long. The food in the fridge is hardly edible, and everything that won’t expire for a couple years are already halfway gone. Plus, if you guys stay here too long, you’ll miss the mansion entirely, and the peacekeepers will come in.

So, no matter what happens, you have to get out of here. And with the gamemakers trying to set one path for you guys, they think you’ll only use that single option. They want you to think it’s a chance to escape, but they’ll just get you later.

You might as well keep marching into the danger.

You pull on the vest, buckling it up as you get into your backpack next. It takes a moment of shifting everything inside for you to find the metal balls, you have only three left. The others probably have a lot less than you. You’ll just have to use all of yours first, and if you can pick them up after traps, then you will.

These can be reusable, they’re heavy even if there’s a chunk or two missing from them. However, if they’re hotter than the sun, you’ll just have to leave it.

Back in the living room, Finnick, Hydri and Alioth are huddled around the map. Even from where you stand, you can hear them discussing the grand escape you’ll be making to get out of here.

“(Y/n), have you been in this part of the Capitol before? Do you know the streets?” Finnick looks behind him as a glance initially, but it must be the glare of the silver balls that make him take a second shot, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Not letting the gamemakers get what they want.” you tell them, “If they want us to stop, then they’ll have to fucking kill us themselves.”

You open the door without a problem, heading for the staircase, rather than the roof. The roof won’t be much help now, it’s all about the ground floor and what lies outside the door.

“(Y/n)!” Finnick calls, he’s going down the stairs a lot quicker than you are, “Can you think about this for a second? Do you remember what happened last time?”

You look at him, “I have thought about it, and we have three options. Two of those include setting off the trap.”

“The peacekeepers will come when you do it.” Finnick reasons.

You set two of the balls onto the table, turning the third one in your hand as you take your time with addressing Finnick’s worry. A smile slowly spreads onto your face as you look up.

“Then go grab our shit so we’re ready to go.”

“This is stupid.” Finnick comes down another stair, “You’re going to get us all killed.”

“No.” you seethe, “It was stupid to stop here for the night, like I fucking told you guys. Another couple of miles and we would be in the inner city already, away from the outskirts!” you take a step forward, “But you guys insisted, and so now we’re in a fucking pedophiles apartment complex, and it’s all your fucking fault.

“So listen to me when I say to go up there and grab the backpacks and shit. Because I’m getting us the fuck out of here, just like I did the last time. And once the traps are triggered, you can choose whether to march forward or run back to District Two. I don’t give a shit.”

Finnick isn’t happy, you can feel it boiling in your stomach, but he doesn’t say anything. He just breathes out through his nose angrily, and turns to go up the stairs. He stomps up them, and then goes as far to slam the apartment door behind him.

You approach the apartment complexes front door carefully, digging through your belt for the flashlight. When you click it on, you move it around the doorframe, hoping that it isn’t right here. And after a moment of inspection, you see that it isn’t.

Instead, it’s beyond the door just barely. It’s a sidewalk panel, you know this because the stain is gone. When you lean into the door enough, you can see the two panels beside the first one, the tire stain doesn’t carry through. And that stain has been here for years, and it was here when you first got here.

You even said something about it to Finnick, the fact that you were so surprised that they haven’t cleaned up the sidewalk even after all these years. Of course, he asked you how you knew this, but you couldn’t really give him an answer. Mostly because you don’t want to dig into it. It’s a long story.

You push the door open freely now. Now that you know what’s going to set off the trap, all you have to do is figure out how to get around it.

Whoever had come out here and fixed this, didn’t think through it. They might have thought that you’d skip over refined details like this, but you could never. Not even in your worst nightmare. You can still picture the apartment that Taurus died in, perfectly.

You might not process it, but you take in. The yellow curtains, the concrete grey couch. The counters were granite, a stainless steel sink, the fridge was pretty techy too. There was an abstract vase on the island counter with wilted sunflowers in it. You could go on and on about what was there.

The sidewalk has to be a weighted thing, right? It looks like it. There’s no wire, no cameras. If you step on it, something happens.

You chew on the inside of your cheek for a moment.

It would be stupid to test out how much weight it takes to set it off, wouldn’t it?

But the only thing you can think of is the fact that if there were surviving peacekeepers, they would tell the gamemakers how easy you set off their traps. It was a simple metal ball that weighed nearly five pounds. It was a flaw in their system.

And with the gamemakers, they’re going to want to fix a flaw, right? Make it so it can’t happen again? So, you should hypothetically be able to place your finger onto this panel without setting it off. Fuck, you could probably set the entire metal ball too. Especially if they fixed it.

You rub your bottom lip for a moment, staring at where the tire streak should have carried over.

It can’t hurt. If you’re wrong, you’re wrong. It doesn’t really matter if you’re dead, the others will be able to choose for themselves.

Humming, you set the ball down by your feet. You place your left hand flat against the ground as you lean yourself forward. As you grit your teeth, you reach over with one hand.

For a moment, all you can do is hover and think about how fucking dumb this is. If you’re wrong, it’ll no doubt kill you. But on the other hand, there really is nothing to lose.

You take a deep breath, and then you place your entire right hand onto the sidewalk panel, squeezing your eyes shut. There’s no click, the panel doesn’t sink, and you don’t feel any rumbling.

You scowl a little bit at the concrete.

“How anticlimactic.” you mutter, deciding to lean into your right arm.

Still, nothing.

You push yourself back.

“What the fuck.”

You look over your shoulder now to see who’s standing there exactly. It’s the three of them, with their vests and backpacks on again. Hydri holds the Holo with both hands, Finnick’s got your bag slung over his arm.

“What are you doing?” Finnick asks, his eyebrows are drawn together now, he moves forward to see, “Is that the pod? Why were you--”

You yank your backpack off his arm and toss it onto the sidewalk panel. You mostly expected it to be set off, but all that happens is the panel dips a little bit. It’s halfway triggered, it’s not even fully done yet.

“Jesus, these backpacks are literally a hundred pounds, you have to be kidding me.”

“I’m going to puke.” Hydri says, “My heart is beating so fast in my chest, I need a moment.”

You look back to see that Alioth is pale too, but he gives you a smile. Whether or not it’s for encouragement, you have no idea. He’s probably just trying to be polite, as most people do.

“Can we have a talk?” Finnick asks.

You stand from where you were crouching, “Later. We’ve got a couple hours of the night left, and then the sun rises. We get out of here at least, and then we can talk.”

Finnick grabs your arm, trying to push you into the building, you squint at him, “Now, (Y/n).”

You don’t know if it’s his fire or if it’s yours. All you know is that the two of you are adding gasoline to it. With his grip on you, and refusing to listen to you. He’s undermining you just like the rest of them.

You grab a hold of his collar, yanking him in with a tight fist. He stumbles forward, and he has to place an arm behind your head to keep him from falling into you. He’s maybe an inch or two away from your face.

“Let go of me before I throw you on the pod.” You threaten, Finnick doesn’t move for a moment, and when you twitch your hand in the direction, he finally lets go, “Now listen to me, because I’ll only say this once. Don’t fucking try me.”

You let go of him, “Now get the fuck out of my space.”

Finnick is still so very angry, but you try to ignore it as you move onto the pod. You take the backpack off, tossing it into the street. Then, you place your hands at the ends of the walls, and take the biggest step you can manage to take over the pod. You make it over just barely, the heel of your foot was still on it, but either way, you still got over.

Now that you’re in the street, you’re able to take a better look at your surroundings. The way you came does look clear, just like how the Holo had promised. And when you look ahead, you sigh, placing your hands behind your head.

It’s a fucking obstacle course.

“Give me one of those balls.” you tell Alioth, “Roll it to me, the pod won’t matter.”

Alioth follows your directions, kicking the one that was already by the door. You scoop it up in your hands, preparing to throw it with your stronger arm. You toss it in the air to get the feel of how heavy it is, and then you draw your arm back, throwing the ball with as much force as you can manage.

The ball lands right on top of one of the mines. You cringe, waiting for it to blow, but nothing happens. Not even fifteen seconds later when you’re still staring at it.

That just means that some of them are faulty, right?

Right, because the ball rolls right onto one that works, and blows the motherfucker sky high. You move away from the street, pressing yourself against the wall as you wait for it to hit the ground. When it does, it leaves a small crater in the ground where it was.

“Okay, good news and bad news.” you tell the others, “Good news is, nothing in the street. Bad news is that there’s a minefield that’s as sensitive as it can be.”

Alioth tosses his backpack over the pod, and you reach over to help pull him over. Next to follow is Hydri, and Finnick stands inside the doorway for a moment, the two of you staring at each other.

“Are you coming?” you offer your hand.

“I don’t want you to touch me.” he says.

You roll your eyes, moving out of the way for Alioth as he goes to help Finnick instead. Hydri hands the Holo off to you, and you tuck it into the backpack, and then proceed to sling that over your shoulders. Unfortunately, this means that those two silver balls are still inside of the building, and you won’t be getting them back.

You head off towards the minefield with the others. Hydri decides to go first, because no matter what happens, you’re all on the verge of death here.

You all spread out to make it easier. If you all go in a line, you’re probably more likely to mess up or feel pressured to rush. But if you’re going at your own pace, you can be extra careful.

It’s easy to move through them at first. The gaps between the mines are relatively large.

But the further you go in, the more they close in, and you’re just barely fitting your feet between the gaps.

You keep an eye on the mines you pass. In the back of your mind there’s a voice telling you to nudge every single mine you come across just to see what happens. It’s tempting at first, until you realize that Finnick can surely feel every stomach flip you get at the thought of doing it.

Plus, you’ll probably trigger all of them at once.

Instead, you settle for fitting between the cracks just barely.

“It’s impossible…” Alioth says, you look behind you to see that he’s stuck, “I--I can’t do this.”

“Alioth, breathe for me.” you tell him, “You’ve got legs, you can reach.”

Alioth shakes his head, there’s visible tears in his eyes as he shuffles his foot backwards, too close to a mine behind him.

“Alioth!” you shout, “Stop, don’t move!”

All of you are spread out, like you said. Alioth is on the end to the left, you’re to the right of him, Hydri is to your right, and Finnick is at the other end.

So if he even explodes one of these, you’re in the splash zone.

“Breathe.” you tell him, “Move carefully.”

“I can’t do it.” he says, moving his foot backwards again.

“Hey--” Finnick tries, but he stumbles over his own feet.

Hydri is still moving, eyes locked to the mines as she moves through them breezily.

“I want to go home.” Alioth chokes, “I can still make it there--”

Alioth twists his body, turning to go back.

There’s a sick feeling in your stomach that you think belongs to Finnick, but there’s really no way of telling. With the way that Alioth is moving carelessly, you’re beginning to feel a little green yourself.

“Alioth, focus on our goal.” you say, “To the mansion, we’re not that far.”

“I can’t do it.” his legs are shaking, and he’s holding his arms out for balance.

His feet barely skim a fucking mine and you can feel another part inside of you die.

“Shit!” Finnick shouts.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Fine.”

You look at Hydri, “Hydri--stop--”

“I can’t do it anymore!” Alioth yells, and you turn right in time to watch him step square on a mine.

You just barely manage to twist your body in time for the blast.

You lose your footing.

It throws you forward.

The ball of your right foot barely makes it into the space between four separate mines.

You swing your left foot up as far as you can to try and even out your balance.

It only makes it worse.

You reach out for the only spaces that will hold your hands.

When you finally stop moving, the backpack is hanging off to one side, and you’re struggling to lean the other way enough to make sure the backpack doesn’t touch the mines to your left.

Right in front of your face is the meanest looking bomb you’ve ever seen. The blinking red light is a dead giveaway that it’s active.

Tears spring in your eyes, and you try to take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“(Y/n)...” Finnick’s voice is faint.

You don’t move your head to look at him. You don’t lift your hands even though there’s a pain in your wrists. And you don’t move your legs no matter how hard they tremble.

And as if it can’t get any worse--Alioth’s body begins to rain down.

Still, you hold your position, trying to suppress the amount of panic that’s beginning to rise in your stomach. You don’t need this right now. You don’t need this. You don’t need to feel panic, you--you need--

Another explosion goes off.

You can’t see why at first, and you assume it’s because of one of the body parts hitting the mines. But when you raise your head, you can see that Hydri made it on the other side. Though, she’s now missing half her body.

Her mouth opens like she’s going to say anything, but nothing comes out. She falls over, head slamming against the concrete. She doesn’t move or make any noise after that.

Your throat feels so tight. You can’t breathe.

“I’m coming.” Finnick says, “Don’t move a muscle. I’ll get you.”

The tears run down your face now, and the second you can feel the snot coming, you rub it onto the vest. The smallest thing can trigger the mine. Just a gentle nudge can leave you just like the other two.

You dip your head, trying to breathe, but it’s such a struggle. All this weight on you, the fact that it’s so heavy and you’re so spread out. It’s hard.

“Don’t give up, please.” Finnick begs, he’s just getting to where Hydri’s line was, “I’m almost there. I’m almost there, just breathe for me.”

You should have just gone with Boggs. Or gone back to District Two after that first squad had exploded. That was your warning, it was such a clear fucking warning.

Your elbow buckles for a second, and you struggle to get it to lock again.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Finnick is just above you, he’s got himself in a sturdy position.

He grabs a hold of the backpack with one hand, and with the other he gets you up straight enough so you can fix your footing.

“Lean on me, I can handle it.” He says.

You listen, holding onto his arm tightly as you find a new place to stand, right next to him. He goes to turn around, but you don’t let him.

You throw your arms around him, squeezing him tightly. Finnick doesn’t hesitate to bring you in closer, two arms around your back.

“We should keep moving, go the way Hydri went.”

“Yeah.” you agree, letting him let go first.

He takes your hand in his, leading you through. He manages to weave in and out naturally. Before you know it, the two of you are on the other side of the minefield, standing over Hydri’s body. Or--half of it at least.

Finnick crouches down, frowning at the amount of blood that you two are standing in. Regardless, he grabs what’s left of her backpack and moves it away from her body and off to the side. When he stands up again, you grab a hold of his jacket sleeve, turning him towards you.

“Yes--?” he asks.

You yank him closer, and then you throw your free arm around the back of his neck, pulling him to your face. And in that same second, you kiss him.

You expect Finnick to pull away, but he doesn’t. He leans into you, with one hand on the back of your head, and the other on your lower back. His lips are so very warm and soft against yours.

When Finnick does pull away, it’s only for a brief moment before he’s kissing you again, moving you towards the backpack so his back is to the mines.

After a while, you start to smile because you can’t keep a straight face anymore. Finnick is the same way, but he’s got a cheeky grin. He’s so very smug.

“What did you say a few weeks ago--?” Finnick asks, you laugh.

“Shut up, or I’ll take it back.” You go towards Hydri’s backpack, getting down to dig through it.

“Wouldn’t want that.” Finnick says, he lags for a moment, “We could just take the entire bag.”

“You’re willing to carry it?” you ask, looking at him.

“Anything for you,” he’s got a soft smile on his face, “love.”

You put the last bobby pin in your hair, taking a step back to get the full picture. You turn your head to make sure it’s what you wanted, and then you grab your hairspray to secure it all in place.

“How do I look?”

You look at Finnick through the mirror, watching as he turns his body from side to side. He then sticks his hands into his pockets, deadpanning and posing like someone’s taking pictures of him.

“Like a Capitol citizen. All we need is the jackets.”

“I’ll find them.” he promises, turning to go out the door.

You bite back a smile, waiting for him to leave before you look back into the mirror.

The pink shimmery eyeshadow helps, but what really sells the entire look is the eyeliner. You exaggerated it so much to make sure it would be hard to tell it was you. As long as someone believes you to be a citizen on first glance, it’s good enough.

No one is going to be looking too deeply at you. Your tattoos will be covered by the jacket sleeves, and with the way you did your hair and makeup, you look like a citizen. You’re going to get through all these people without a problem.

Finnick comes into the room bearing a long, pink, fur jacket. On the inside, the material is soft and slides on top of the dress easily. You zip it up, and then you pull the hood over your head. With another look to the mirror, you’re practically unrecognizable.

You move onto Finnick, helping him with his black coat. You pull the hood up, fixing his hair to make him look more unrecognizable. When you move away, you give him a satisfied smile.

On the bed lies the couple you killed. You didn’t really have a choice, you and Finnick are on the inner block of the city now. It’s a couple mile walk from here to the mansion. And with Snow’s announcement last night--he told all the refugees to head right to his mansion for help--you had to.

You and Finnick needed to be as close to the mansion as possible, and if that meant the two of you had to slip into the city during the quietest and darkest part of the night, so what? Killing the couple was going to happen whether you liked it or not, you’re just lucky she hadn’t screamed before you got to her.

“You got your swords?” Finnick asks.

“Secured to my thighs.” you tell him, “I’m ready to go, are you?”

“Ready as I can be.”

The two of you meet at the front door, and before he opens it up, revealing you two to hundreds of Capitol citizens, he offers his hand for you. You don’t hesitate with sliding your fingers into his, squeezing it.

“Look natural.” you tell him.

When he opens the door, you flick off the apartment light, moving out with him. You keep your head pretty low, but through your lids, you’re watching the people move through the crowd. Barely anyone had looked up at your guys’ appearance; this should be a lot easier than you thought it would be.

Finnick shuts the door behind you, and then he leads the way right into the crowd. Straight for the middle, away from the peacekeepers the gatekeep the sidewalk.

No one complains because of the pace you and Finnick move at. In fact, you two seem to blend right in. You’re not even that nervous with it, walking through a crowd of people like this is like cutting through melted butter.

In no time, you’ve made it past the first two checkpoints of the peacekeepers, which is a whole miles worth of a walk. And the further you go, the more you’re able to see up ahead.

You try to keep your eyes low as much as you can manage, but you can’t really help looking around the rooftops. There’s supposed to be hundreds of rebels here today, who knows how many are in the crowd with you right now. But knowing them, they’re going to try to go for someplace much higher.

“How far are we going?” you ask, “We’re going to get checked sooner or later.”

“Cressida mentioned something about a friend being up here--a boutique from a former stylist. She’s off to the left.” Finnick tells you quietly.

Your eyes drag to the left, now. As you do this, your eyes latch onto a wanted sign. It’s a picture of Katniss from the Quarter Quell. It’s a moment before her face fades out, and Finnick’s comes in.

You nudge him, mostly for the sign, but he finds something else. He pulls you right to the sign, and then past that to the shop behind it. He doesn’t stop at the door, he opens it just barely large enough for you two to slip in. Then, he shuts it.

It’s a boutique, alright. There’s coats, skirts and dresses all on mannequins for display. And as you’re looking through the room, your eyes land on a very real person. Her face has clearly been altered--not only by tattoos but also the whispers on her face… It’s obvious she was a stylist.

“Are you Tigris?” Finnick asks, pulling down his hood.

You can physically feel your blood run cold.

She squints, not noticing a difference with you, “Who’s asking.”

“(Y/n) Rosecelli and Finnick Odair.” Finnick says, “Did Cressida come by?”

She purses her lips, but nods, “You want to join them?”

Finnick goes to move towards her, but you yank him back, “What does that mean?”

“In the basement. Cressida, Pollux and Peeta are here. Katniss and Gale just left.” Tigris motions to the back of her shop, “Here.”

You allow Finnick to go, but you’re hesitant about it. Tigris uncovers a whole door by moving a rug. She motions for you guys to go down. He goes down first, and you wait until he gives you the clear.

While you wait, you clench and unclench your hands, trying not to keep your eyes on Tigris for long. You try to look at anything else in this little hallway. Up until Finnick finally gives you the clear to come down the stairs. After that, you don’t hesitate, and you don’t say anything to Tigris either.

And just as Tigris said, Cressida, Pollux and Peeta are down here. You take a moment to shed the giant pink coat, tossing it onto a rack of clothing. You come up behind Finnick, crossing your arms across your chest.

“You guys made it.” Cressida says, she stands from the couch, “I can’t believe it.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“There was a video of you guys in a minefield.” Peeta says, when he looks at you, the dark circles around his eyes are more prominent, “We saw everything, from beginning to end.”

You press your lips together.

“You guys have room down here for two more?” Finnick asks.

“Not going to chase after Katniss?” Cressida raises her eyebrows.

“Do you think we can catch up to them?” you ask, shifting on your feet, “We’ll look suspicious if we try to push through the crowd to find them.”

“You probably won’t find them, anyway.” Peeta mutters.

Finnick takes a seat on the floor, across from Cressida and Peeta. Pollux is off in the corner by himself, his head in his hands. You’d go talk to him, but you don’t know any sign language.

“Gonna sit?” Finnick asks, looking up at you.

“I’m sure you can tell the story just fine.” you say, running your finger through his hair, “I’ll be right back, I have to ask Tigris a question.”

“Sure.” Finnick says, he turns to Cressida and Peeta after that.

You head towards the staircase, and on the way, you pick up the fur coat.

The door is easy to open, it’s not locked. You shove it upwards, slip out, and then you cover it right back up. Tigris comes out from her office.

“What is it?” she asks.

“I’m going after Katniss and Gale.” you say, pulling on the coat, “Make sure Finnick doesn’t leave, alright?”

You zip up the jacket, being sure to readjust the dual swords on your thighs accordingly. After that, you unlock the shop door and slip out onto the street.

Katniss and Gale are going to be far up ahead. There’s a huge gap between you and them, which means that you’ve got to walk fast.

The second that you’re submerged in the crowd, it’s easy to slip between people. There’s gaps just barely big enough for you to go through, and since you’re so smooth with your movements, no one complains. By how fast you’re going, it’s not like they had time to either.

You couldn’t stay in that building. The moment Finnick said her name, you had to get out. After the apartment complex and the minefield, you can’t do it anymore. If you can get away from things that remind you of your first time in the Capitol, then you will.

You didn’t care about the route that Hydri had decided to plan out for you guys. No matter what happened, she knew that was the easiest and fastest way to get through the city. You and Finnick still made it here on the planned date, so Hydri did her job.

It’s the apartment complex that they chose to settle into for the night. The one you begged them not to choose, just a block or two more away from the building, and then you guys can settle. What was the difference? You guys would be closer to the mansion, and inside the zone for the evacuation.

Of course, you didn’t know about the refugee plan until last night, but that doesn’t really matter. An innocent couple wouldn’t have had to die, Alioth wouldn’t have had a panic attack in the middle of a minefield, and Hydri would still be right next to you and Finnick and not in half.

But as you said, they chose that specific building. The one with the tire streak out front. The building that was owned by one of your biggest buyers after you had won your games. And you wouldn’t have had to sleep in one of his tenants beds.

And now seeing Tigris? You didn’t recognize her at all in the slightest at first. She wasn’t as extreme back then, as she is now. It’s not really a wonder she was fired anymore, she’s completely disfigured the way she looked before.

You might have recognized her, but she definitely didn’t realize it was you. And if she did, she didn’t say anything about it. Which you’re grateful for, you’re not sure what you would have said to her. Especially after everything that happened…

“Hey!” A voice yells, you ignore it for the most part, continuing to move through the crowd, “You! In the pink coat!”

You slow down a bit, closing your eyes. The voice sounds pretty far away, you have time to unzip your jacket, slide out the right sword, slip the steel into your sleeve, and then zip the jacket up again. But to keep the sword from falling, you have to grip onto it, letting it dig into your skin as blood draws.

A firm hand is placed on your shoulder, as you’re wheeled around to face the peacekeeper.

You reach up with your left hand pulling the hood down just enough to get it out of your face. You make your voice a little higher, a little sweeter, “Yes?”

You widen your eyes. Innocent. You need to look innocent.

“What’re you in a hurry for?” he asks, he’s looking you over.

“I lost my sister-in-law and her husband, they’re up ahead, I can see them from here. I was just trying to catch up with them.” you draw your eyebrows together, “Is that okay?”

You can’t see his face, but he’s definitely thinking this over. It takes him a moment before he nods once, “Slow down.”

“Sorry.” you pat his arm a bit, turning back towards where you were walking.

You make sure to put as much distance between you and him as possible before you slip the sword right back to where it came from. You don’t want to look behind you, that’ll just make you look suspicious.

It’s only a few minutes later when you spot another couple of peacekeepers in the crowd, checking faces. In the middle of them, a pair of people turn around to walk against the current. You squint at them, thinking that’s peculiar. Then, you realize who it is.

Just like you had done before, you begin to push through the crowd. This time, you’re moving people out of your way, and you’re ignoring the ones who complain. Katniss and Gale must see that there’s another peacekeeper checking faces, because they turn right back around.

You manage to narrowly avoid the first one, and after pushing a few more people, you’ve made it to them.

“Gale Hawthorne.” your voice is hard, and out of shock, he turns the same time Katniss does.

“Who--?”

“Shh.” you make them turn back forward, “Move to the right, go.” you nudge Gale, pulling Katniss along.

The peacekeeper seems to follow the same direction unintentionally. In response, you put yourself between them. However, the peacekeeper doesn’t even get the chance to check you, because something explodes.

The ground shakes, and you, Katniss and Gale drop to a crouch to cover your heads. Screaming and gasps ensue from the bomb, and then someone finally yells; “Its the rebels!”

Then the bullets start to fly.

“How’d you get here?” Gale yells.

“It’s a long story!” you say, ducking down a little more.

You look up to where the bomb was set off, and you’re met with the sight of some volunteers on the balconies, guns in hand as they aim for the peacekeepers. However, they can’t control if a citizen jumps in front of the bullets or not. You guys are screwed just being here.

Looking behind you, there’s more volunteers flooding the street. They’re planning to attack on foot, and that’ll put all of these people in danger.

The ground shakes again, and you grab a hold of Katniss to steady yourself, quickly dropping your hand after. Only a second later, Katniss and Gale are getting to their feet, and they’re pulling you along with.

The three of you are quick on your feet, hopping over the people that lay on the ground. Some have clear holes in their backs, others are hopefully just playing dead in order not to end up like the others. The lower to the ground they are, the less likely they are to get hit by the stray bullets.

Both Katniss and Gale get over a concrete barricade, and you just barely make it before a bullet whizzes over your head. For a moment, you three have a second to talk.

“You’re here to help? Do you even have--” Gale begins to ask, you yank the coat up to show him the tips of the swords that have dug into your skin a couple of times because of all this movement.

“Finnick is with Peeta and Cressida.”

“You saw Peeta?” Katniss asks.

“Seems fine to me.” you tell her, “We barely had a conversation.”

Gale clearly doesn’t like this topic.

There’s a third explosion, one that makes concrete debris move through the air in a smoke.

Gale moves on without hesitating, taking a gun from a peacekeeper, and when he tries to get up, Gale kicks him square in the helmet. After that, you and Katniss are right behind him as you run towards where everyone else is gathering just outside the gates of the mansion.

There’s so many more peacekeepers up here, especially with all the armoured trucks. If you thought getting past them was hard before, this is going to be so much worse.

Right as you three barely clear an overpass, it explodes. Katniss and Gale duck, but you slow down a bit, turning your back to them as you stare. At first, it’s just black smoke, before it begins to collapse.

“(Y/n)!” Gale yells at you.

You turn to join them again, a little embarrassed that you’d allowed yourself to get distracted like this, but there’s so much going on. Explosions, there’s Capitol citizens running with kids in their arms. There’s loud wailing, guns being shot, bullets nearly hitting people.

You can’t help but to wonder what happened to the civility that Paylor had planned.

Your thoughts run short, because you run straight into a peacekeeper. His gun is already drawn, but it isn’t pointed at your chest just yet. But with the way the two of you stare at each other, it’s a race to the weapons.

You can only see his eyes behind those shades, how wide they are. It’s either panic or worry, and you can’t tell. Your hand has already drawn one of the swords, and you’re directing it to his stomach. With one hand on his shoulder, and the other on the hilt, you shove the sword in, eyes still locked with his.

You pull it out, thinking that you’ll be done, but you’re shoving it back in again, and then leaning your weight on it, tearing his stomach up more. Only then do you yank it out, and with one more swift motion, you kick his right knee as hard as you can. The snap fills the air, and he falls to the ground.

His pristine white suit is now damaged and red.

Almost entranced, you stand and stare.

You don’t know whether to be satisfied or horrified anymore.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter seventeen

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Chapter Fifteen (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 10.7k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

uhhh long ass chapter jfc

–

You tap the end of the spoon against the table, “Maybe more gasoline?”

Beetee gives you a look, “I’ve engineered these perfectly--”

“I’m literally from District Two, I manufactured weapons. Just add a bit more gas, and see what happens, it can’t hurt, can it?”

Beetee readjusts the glasses on his face, “I suppose not.” he gets to work, and you scoop some of the carrots onto your spoon, trying not to make a face when you force them down your throat. They’ve gotten cold from how long you’ve been stalling, “You’ve made molotov arrows before?”

“Well…” you make a face, and he turns his eyes to you, “I wouldn’t say that. I’ve… experimented that’s for sure.”

Gale laughs, “What does that mean?”

“It means I’ve illegally made weapons and sometimes started bush fires because of it,” you laugh, “And I’ve never been caught, either.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be in here.” Beetee mutters.

You roll your eyes, “As if I would willingly do work now. Just telling you to add more gas was a bore.”

Beetee screws the top back onto the arrow, being careless with it to see if it’ll explode or whatever. Which means that you should definitely put some distance between you and the psychopath here, you’re not too fond of being inside of a molotov. No matter how small that arrow is, there will be a ton of fire.

“Give it a shot.” you motion at Gale, “Seriously.”

“It won’t set the studio on fire?”

“You’re talking to the two engineers, here. Go ahead before I do it myself.”

Gale picks up the crossbow, and then takes the arrow that Beetee is offering him. While he prepares everything, you swivel around to face Gale, while Beetee has to turn the entire wheelchair to see.

“I’ve been trying to make a trident for Finnick.” Beetee begins, the two of you watch Gale prepare, the people on the other end of the room have fire extinguishers ready to put the fire out as soon as the arrow is fired.

“Don’t make it look like an actual trident, keep the design as close as possible to the one he had inside of the arena.” you scoop up another spoonful of carrots, “And make it hollow in the middle, it’ll be easier to move around--and you can make it compatible that way too.”

“Ready?” Gale asks.

“We’ve been ready.” you eat the cold, slimy carrots.

Gale fires the arrow, and right when it hits the bullseye, it explodes into fire. The entire target, the wall behind it, mostly the floor and some get onto the ceiling too. The crew runs forward, putting out the fire before it can spread across the entire room.

You look at Beetee, “See? Not too shabby.”

“Know any ways to make them waterproof?”

“Wax, water rolls right off of it. Don’t lay it on too thick, and you’ll be just fine.” You set the empty tray onto the table, “

“They should have sent you down here sooner.” Gale says, coming back over, “Imagine how much faster all of this would have been made.”

“Beetee would have gotten fed up with me, if he isn’t already.” you say, stretching.

“You’re not too bad to be around.”

“You only like me because I make your weapon engineering much easier. I’m able to catch your mistakes before you even make them.” you tuck your legs in.

He ignores what you said, moving on to Gale, “How’s Katniss doing?”

Gale doesn’t give much of an answer, “Recovering.”

“Let me guess, she’s still mad at you?” you raise your eyebrows. For this, he tells you to shut up. You shrug, getting back to the sketch you were working on for your own personal weapon, “Hey, if you can’t see how out of line you were, then that’s your deal.”

“How was I out of line?”

You place the sketchbook on your knee, “Dude, you called her fiance weak for doing what he could to stay alive. Obviously you two are still pretty close after that, but I wouldn’t have made a comment like that.” you pause for a moment, looking at Gale, “Then again, you don’t know what it’s like to be under a microscope, you can run your mouth all you want, because you were nothing but a coal miner.”

Gale practically rolls his eyes, “I know what it’s like, Katniss had to start calling me her cousin.”

“Katniss was the one being watched, don’t flatter yourself.” you go back to what you were doing.

“She’s right.” Beetee chips in, “(Y/n), I mean.”

“Right.”

The sound of boots on cement makes you look up, expecting Gale to be the one walking away. He doesn’t normally like to take shit from you or Beetee. Coming down here is like a safe place, allowing him to vent and blow steam when he gets to test out the new fancy weapons.

Gale stands right where he was before, which means that it’s someone else. And since Beetee can’t walk, you turn around in the chair to see who it is.

It’s Finnick. His hands are in his pockets, with a gleeful smile on his face, “Good afternoon.”

Gale is just as suspicious as you are, “What are you up to?”

“What was I up to.” he corrects, coming to a stop behind your chair, “It’s a surprise.”

Beetee makes a face, and then wheels himself around so that he’s facing the table again. As he gets back to work, you resume critiquing Gale, and Finnick finds where he wants to be.

“Gale, don’t get me wrong, I can sorta see where you’re coming from, but you need to see it from our perspective too.” you drop your leg, “Let’s compare you to Peeta, since you were doing that already by saying you’d never say what you said.

“He had absolutely no clue what the fuck was going on. Peeta didn’t know that there was a plan to get him and Katniss out of the arena, he didn’t know that Coin was planning on using Katniss as a symbol. The only things he did know was what the Capitol fed him to get him on their side.

“And if you still can’t see eye to eye with it, imagine a gun pointed to Katniss’ head. If you so much as step out of line in a way that Snow doesn’t like, he’ll shoot her. It’s not his family, friend or girlfriend that he’s killing, it’s yours. And if you don’t cooperate after Katniss, he’s grabbing the next dearest thing to you.” you lean back in the chair, “And before you say shit, Snow literally did that to me twice. First was right after I won my games and he killed my entire family, and the second time was when we found Tanith dead in a chair. It’s a little different for Tanith, because she was already dead, but he still tried to use her against me.”

“Okay, but what were they threatening Peeta with?”

“His life, for starters.” Finnick says, “And likely his family too.”

Gale doesn’t say anything after that.

“How’s this design?” You offer the sketchbook for Beetee, and he takes it.

“We could probably start this now.” Beetee says, “Mind doing something for Finnick, too?”

“Sure.”

He hands it back, but Finnick takes it before you’re able to grab a hold of it. Sighing, you look up at Finnick, watching his face as he looks over the page, “These are swords.”

“Sai’s.” you correct.

Finnick gives you a look, “But it says right here--”

“--that it’s basically a sword, yes, I know. Normally they’re used to disarm someone--as I showed you before. But I want some that are actually sharp. Blunt force trauma is fun, but what’s even more fun is spilling someone’s guts in front of them.”

Finnick hands the book back, “Sword.”

“Sure.” you cross your legs, “What are you here for, other to annoy me?”

“Keeping an eye on you three for the next couple of hours.” Finnick pulls up a chair of his own, mirroring your stance.

“Sounds exciting.”

Everything falls back into rhythm. Beetee goes back to tinkering on arrows, having Gale use the decoys. And the times he’s not shooting arrows, he’s sitting in a chair talking to you guys. You cough up a couple of sketches for Beetee, hoping that it’ll be good enough.

You might be the one from District Two, but that doesn’t mean you actually put things together. The legal age to actually get into the warehouses is eighteen, and since you went into the games at sixteen and won, you never really had to work. You’ve sat on money for your entire life. The only people that worked were your parents, aunts and uncles and some of your cousins.

Those same cousins taught you how to put things together before your games--obviously. During family get togethers, you’d all disappear for a little while, which is when they’d take the chance. They always thought it was so cool to pass on forbidden knowledge, and have it all be a secret between you guys.

They had this secret stash of gadgets inside of a log, and they’d fuck around with it until it turned into something dangerous. Honestly, the first thing you learned from them was the molotov, and when you threw it on a rock, it exploded and the dead grass around it caught fire.

Cue you all scooping the gadgets into your shirts and taking off behind the houses to get as far as possible. Your older cousin had a backup spot not too far away, you dumped all the shit there and got back to the house in record time. Before the firefighters had even left their stations.

It’s a wonder why you weren’t caught, cause that wasn’t the first time that area specifically had been set on fire, and it wouldn’t be the last either. The firefighters definitely had an idea of why it would always set ablaze, but never pursued it. After a while, they started to monitor the place on extremely hot days, thinking that it was the sun that was starting the fires.

If only they had known that it was a bunch of teenagers doing that shit for fun.

After a while, Beetee gets tired of the arrows and starts over to the crew to begin making the sai’s. While they’re heating up the metal, he gets to making the hilt.

“I feel like we’re doing more work than we have to.” you look at Beetee.

“Do you want it to be fucked up, or do you want it to be done right the first time?” He raises his glasses above his eyes when he looks right back at you.

“The first time.” you sigh.

When you get back to work, Finnick moves in closer, curious as to how you’re designing his new weapon. Every now and then he’ll point out the practicalities, and weighing in on how he would rather it be built.

“This doesn’t even look like a trident anymore.” you hold the journal away from your face, and turn it so it’s long-ways since the entire trident spans over both pages, “It’s basically the opposite.”

“But think of it this way.” Finnick reaches over, touching where the blades of the trident are, “Initial stab, right? But the rest of this does more damage.”

There’s a spear point at the top of the trident, which isn’t the problem. That’s pretty normal when it comes to the design. However, instead of wanting all the other blades facing up and towards it, he wants it downwards.

“And you can even make it compatible!” Finnick grins.

“At least we agree on one thing.” You pass the journal to him, “Go ahead and show Beetee, he’s the one in charge.”

Finnick goes over, and it’s basically halfway across the room, since Beetee is hovering over the crew’s work like a hawk. He wasn’t playing around when he said that he would like it to be perfect the first time around.

“Finnick’s into you.” Gale says.

“You say that like he’s not my soulmate.” you give Gale a look, “Also, I’m not into Finnick.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a teenager and I don’t date people right after they broke up with their girlfriends.” you turn back to Finnick to see that he’s discussing the weapon with Beetee and a crew member.

“If there was no Annie, would you have dated him then?”

You squint, “No.”

Gale laughs, but doesn’t say anything because Finnick is heading your guys’ way again. He drops the journal in Beetee’s workspace on his way over, “Beetee will start it tonight.”

“Cool.” you get up, picking up the lunch tray, “Am I free to leave now?”

“Yes,” Finnick says, but he makes a point to stay in front of both you and Gale.

“See ya later, Beetee!” you shout, “Send someone if you need my help.”

He waves, and then goes back to hovering.

Finnick starts up the staircase first, and Gale walks beside you, “Any progress on Peeta?”

Gale rolls his eyes, you can feel it, “Same as he was before. I saw him before coming here.”

“Katniss still saying no?” you look over.

Gale nods.

“That’s reasonable, I wouldn’t want to go near him either…” you trail off for a moment, and then laugh to yourself.

Finnick glances over his shoulder curiously, “What is it?”

You chuckle a bit, “Out of everyone, I’m definitely last on the list of people he wants to see.”

“Why’s that?”

Your smile is small as you look at your feet, rather than up at Finnick, “I nearly killed Peeta.”

“After the birds? I know--” Finnick says.

“No, after. After you had been pulled out of the arena, did I tell either of you that story?”

Gale says no, which is expected, but Finnick thinks about it before answerings, “We talked about emotion when you first got here, and how intense it was.”

“Well, after I left the lightning tree, my real goal was to go downhill and straight for the cornucopia. I thought that if the jungle were to burn, I would need to take my chances in the middle. On the way, I found a livid Peeta, and a strangely calm Johanna.” you smile, “Peeta started screaming at me instead, and Johanna urged me not to do anything.

“But then Peeta backed me into a rock, so when I got up, I punched him twice. Kicked him a couple of times while he was down, and then Johanna stepped in--” Finnick has slowed down now, he watches you, “--and naturally I knocked her out with a single right hook, since she’s… weak to say the least. She hit her head on a rock on the way down, and I thought I’d finish her off later.

“As for Peeta, it was just him and I.” the smile develops into a grin, “I was about to rip him apart--and I mean minutes from doing it. But then the peacekeepers came and I thought that it would be better to leave the situation as it was.”

“You’re… sadistic.” Gale says.

“I’ve heard it all before.” you say, looking at Finnick.

“At least you didn’t kill them.” Finnick says.

“Peeta knew that I was about to. Doesn’t matter if I did it or not.”

Gale laughs now, “You should go visit him to see what he says.”

“He’d probably get mad at me for not killing him when I had the chance. I’m surprised he didn’t strangle me in that hovercraft.”

“The tracker jacker venom fucked with his head, he probably barely recognized you.” Gale says.

At the top of the staircase, Finnick stops you, “We’ll see you later, Gale.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m going to see Boggs.”

You salute as a joke, getting an eye roll in return. Finnick purposely waits until Gale is gone, and then he moves out of your way, “You’re getting better.”

“At making people like me?” you ask, giving Finnick a look, “You know, a genius once told me that I’m not as dislikable as I think.”

Finnick raises his eyebrows, “A genius you say?”

“Maybe not a genius.” you laugh, and Finnick joins in, “So what were you up to?”

“You’ll see in a couple of hours.”

“Is that why we aren’t getting off on the floor we normally do?” you stare at your feet.

“We’re heading straight for the medical floor to Johanna.”

You stop on the stairs, and Finnick gets a couple of steps above you, “Did you not just hear my whole story?”

“The worst Johanna will do is run her mouth about the fact that you didn’t kill her when you had the chance. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask one of the nurses. We’ve heard her speech a couple of times now.”

“Then can I opt out and go to the dorm instead?” you start up the stairs again.

“You’re really going to leave me to talk to Johanna?”

Your eyebrows draw together, “You’re the one that wants to see her!”

“Come on, we see Johanna and then we go to the dorm right after, I promise.” Finnick says.

You hold out your pinky for Finnick, and with a slight chuckle, he pinky promises you. The two of you resume your journey up the stairs, and then he says, “Unless we talk for too long.”

You press your lips together, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. He laughs anyway.

When the two of you reach Johanna’s room, you hang by the door, not really wanting to go inside. You don’t like the look of the room, much less the idea of being back inside of it. Ever since you’ve been granted the freedom, you’ve made a point of not coming back to the hospital--or infirmary--floor, no matter the reason.

The other day, you cut your hand on a blade down in the workshop. The crew had wanted to call someone down to come and take care of you, and you barely stopped them in time. Over your dead body, would you be brought back here to sit and wallow in white for a couple of days.

Especially over something as childish as a cut. So, you found the first aid kit, cleaned out the wound and Beetee stitched it up for you. The crew was a little surprised how calm you were during the entire procedure but the only thing you had to say was ‘high pain tolerance’ after all your years of bullshit.

So being back here makes you nervous. As if someone will pop out from one of the walls and tie you down to a bed for absolutely no reason. You’re perfectly healthy, and the nurses and doctors knew this. Even after you had tests that came back negative for poison in your system, you were required to stay.

Finnick and Johanna’s conversation is surprisingly normal and boring. There was absolutely no reason for you to tag along, except for Finnick’s own request. The only reason why you’re here is to be nice.

As if Finnick’s read your mind, he looks at you, “(Y/n) been helping Beetee out in the workshop lately, designing weapons.”

Johanna’s eyes drag over to you, bored of it already, “She’s being helpful for once?”

You stare at her.

“She’s done quite a lot, Johanna.” Finnick says, looking back at her, “She’s the one that opened the conversation about rescuing you and the others from the Capitol.”

“For her own benefit.” Johanna laughs, “Because she can’t stand being alone. It’s why she’s kept you around so long, you know? Not because she likes you, but because she needs another soul to harvest. She’s like the fucking grim reaper.” she looks at you now, “A heartless murderer.”

You take a deep breath, and then a smile spreads over your face, “I should have killed you when I had the chance. At least then, there would be one less leech on the morphling supply.” you spit, “You deserve everything that Snow gave you, the waterboarding, the near-drowning. It’s a shame that he only kept you alive so you’d suffer and become nothing but another downer on everyone around you.”

Finnick’s head whips in your direction, clearly not expecting the outburst. You’ve been so good for so long, but there’s something about Johanna that just gets you steaming.

“I should have stomped your head into that fucking rock in front of Peeta.” you seethe, “And then I should’ve beaten Peeta to death, because you two weren’t nearly worth sacrificing my life over.” you shake your head, “You’re nothing but another morphling addict. Another victor that couldn’t take the fucking heat. If I were you, I’d just kill myself from how embarrased I’d be.”

Johanna’s been smiling at you the entire time, like she wanted this sort of reaction, and so you finish it off, “It’s probably how Blight felt too.”

Her smile drops, and her hand is reaching towards the needles in her arms before her feet have even hit the ground. You stand your ground, allowing Finnick to get her to stop because she does some real damage to her veins.

“(Y/n)--go!” Finnick’s angry, and he glares at you over his shoulder.

“My fucking pleasure.” you spit, leaving the doorway.

It was worth it. Every word that left your mouth was fucking worth it. Being nice to people is such a fucking chore, especially when it’s towards people who don’t deserve it.

You stand in the stairwell for a moment, thinking about where you’d want to go. But there’s really no place that’s safe if Finnick comes looking for you. The workshop and dorm are an obvious place, as well as the stream you stumbled upon. He’ll check with Boggs and Gale--and there’s no one else here that likes you.

You hate it here.

You thought you would be able to make this place feel like a real home and maybe even like it, but it’s not worth it. This whole place isn’t worth it to you.

Everything inside of you is a frenzy.

You have to go home.

You start up the staircase, knowing that seeing Plutarch and finding a ride would be the place to start. He might not be happy about it, but there’s really no need for you here. You’re not doing anything besides designing personal weapons that Beetee likes and doesn’t like.

Occasionally you’re genuinely helpful with dumb shit, but that’s the extent of it. Other than that, you’re miserable. The freedom you have isn’t actual freedom.

You hop up the last couple of steps, and round the corner to the door to the control room. You practically throw it open, nearly letting it hit the wall, when your hand appears between the crack to stop it.

At your appearance, a few people look over. The only eyes who stick are Boggs, Gale, Haymitch and Plutarch.

“Where’s Finnick?” Gale asks.

“Not his owner,” you go down the steps, eyes on Plutarch, “I want a ride to District Two. Your next hovercraft is mine to take.”

Boggs stands up, crossing his arms, “What about the workshop?”

“Boring, Beetee has it under control.”

“And Finnick?” Haymitch asks, “I thought you were just liking it here--”

“I’m a liar.”

Gale sighs, “Tell us what happened.”

“Johanna and I are going to end up killing each other the next time we come face to face.” your eyes land on Plutarch to see he has an eye on his watch, “So unless you feel like cleaning up a dead body, I’ll take one free ticket to District Two.”

“The next hovercraft is leaving in fifteen minutes.” Plutarch looks up now, “I’ll call in and let them know you’re going.”

“Does Finnick know you’re doing this?” Gale asks, “He’s going to be upset if we have to tell him--”

“It’s his fault for getting attached to me.” your face is serious, and then the smile spreads over your face, because of the irony of that statement. After what Johanna had said… “He’s your problem now, good luck.”

You go up the steps, heading right out the door you came in. You can’t take the staircase to the top, so you make your way to the elevator instead. You press the button, waiting patiently with a smile on your face.

The hovercrafts that they’re using to get the supplies to and from District Two are the slow type. District Thirteen is in no rush to get the crates there, so it won’t be a surprise to you if it takes more than just a couple of hours for you to get there. Or if it makes stops along the way.

The elevator arrives, you pull up the safety bar, and then step inside, pulling it back down. You punch the top floor button with your thumb, then you go to stare as the floors disappear beneath your feet.

At least back home you don’t have to act and lie for the happiness of others. Especially if your first and only stop is going to be your house in victor’s village. And if you need groceries, it looks like you’ll be hunting for food to eat. Or you might actually have to go into town and ransack the already destroyed buildings.

Most of the people that used to own the shops are probably dead, or they won’t be returning back home for a while. The entirety of victor’s village is going to be a graveyard--there might even still be rotting bodies inside of the houses. If the smell is too unbearable, you could always bury the corpses yourself.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

At the top, there’s someone waiting on the ramp. You don’t bother waiting for them to tell you to hurry it up, you start jogging immediately. The faster you get on, the faster you can take off.

“I’m ready.” you say when you get to the ramp.

“Good, take a seat and strap in.” the man follows you in.

The whole district is in ruins.

The last time you were here, everything seemed to be in near perfect condition, apart from the obvious looting that had taken place. The broken windows, and the wood splinters in the gravel could be easily looked over. But it’s much harder to see this place as it once was.

Most stores and houses that were made out of wood, and had been passed down from generation to generation have been burned to ashes or their cement flooring. There’s nothing left of them, not the furniture inside, and definitely not the foundation. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that they were vacant lots.

If they couldn’t burn, then they were bombed. Chunks of cement and brick have now joined the mixture in the gravel. The roofs have long since caved in, and just one gust of wind makes the walls shudder. All it would take is one more bomb dropped in this area, and it all would come crashing down.

The air around you is hardly breathable too. Before you had stepped off the hovercraft you were given a mask--not the same gas mask that you’d used during the tribute center invasion--and a pair of sunglasses that would help you see through the debris and smoke.

It’s almost like fog, but so much worse. It’s smoke from fires that can’t be put out, and it’s from the bombs that are from your own district. The loyalists and the rebels are still fighting over this place. Katniss’ visit here hadn’t done much good, in fact you’d say that it made it a lot worse.

As you wander through the streets towards victor’s village, you come up with a lousy plan that’ll likely get you killed.

Coin had thought that sending Katniss here was a good idea, but it wasn’t by any means. Katniss got a bullet to her ribs, which bruised a ton of them, and put her right back into a hospital bed. They clearly didn’t think about what would happen if you mix people who don’t mind the games, with someone who’s leading a rebellion.

You’ve seen the speech, and as heartfelt as it was, it’s not what they want to hear.

Here’s the way you saw it at first; this girl from the poorest part of District Twelve is kicking up a rebellion that’ll likely destroy the system that’s making District Two rich, and the favorite. District Two thinks that they’re going to get everything taken away from them. Their houses, nice clothes and furniture, the good paying jobs.

You would all much rather send in the two kids a year--mostly because your children are prepared ahead of time, and therefore the career districts have nothing to lose--than take the risk of getting everything taken away. The Capitol absolutely adores you guys, with all that you supply them.

So, instead of having the girl that’s leading the rebellion try and convince the loyalists that they’re on the wrong side. You have someone who’s lived in the same luxury as them do it instead. How is Katniss supposed to understand how you all feel? She despised the games, while the rest of you adored it.

The outsider districts don’t understand the need for luxury and favoritism. They’ve lived on the hated side of the Capitol for a long time. The Capitol expects them to underperform in the games, so that’s why they don’t ever see the spotlight until they get a winner.

Anyway, you’re going to get to your house, change into something that says ‘living in luxury’ and then march your way to the justice building. There, you won’t ask for any sort of protection but an escort there instead. You won’t carry any weapons, you won’t pull on a bulletproof vest.

If they shoot you, then they’ll have made their choice very clear.

The gate entrance to the village is all sorts of broken. You barely push the metal door open, and the entire thing falls apart in your hands. You have to prop it up against the fence, being sure that it won’t fall over before you move on to go inside. Then, you waste no time with a quick jog through.

The fountain in the first part of the village is dry. The cement is no longer grey, it’s black from the amount of fire that must have washed through here. On the tiles that line the bottom, there’s melted coins. You’re tempted to reach in and pick one out when you realize just how bad of an idea that is.

You continue down the stone brick path after that, taking in note of every house that you pass. The doors are slightly ajar, most windows seem to be shattered, and a couple are burned down to the foundation. Most still stand though, Sorcha, Enobaria, Brutus, Tanith and Zavian’s seem to be in good condition.

As for Lyme, her house is completely gone. You have an idea that it might be because of the fact that she’s helping the rebels, and some of the loyalists must’ve gotten behind their lines to come and burn hers down specifically. As for the others, there must be a bigger story behind it.

As you come into the third part of the neighborhood, you cross your fingers as you hope it’s not like Lyme’s. You just want a moment inside of a clean house, to be able to go upstairs and find out that there’s running water. Then you’ll take a shower, get dressed in fancy clothing and put on makeup as if there isn’t hellfire around you.

It takes you a moment to find it, because all the houses in this section are still standing. And then you realize that your house is the only one that looks fresh. It hasn’t been touched by all the ash and smoke, it’s still as bright white as the day you received it. Perfect condition.

No windows are broken, the wood and cement show no signs of it being on fire at any point in time. The door is shut tight, a little stuck so you have to rattle the handle until it comes loose. You swing the door wide open, standing in the doorway as you wait to see a mess.

But it’s clean. Of course, the house has collected dust, but there’s no blood. There’s no broken vases, or stuffing all over the floor. It’s how you left it.

You shut the door behind you, locking it for good measure. As you go inside, you can’t help but to look around and gape like you’re on a house tour. Nothing has been touched, which is the part that baffles you the most. Both the inside and outside are great.

For a moment, you’re not sure why you’re so surprised that nothing had happened--apart from the fact that the whole neighborhood is disgusting. And then you remember the last time you came home from the games. With the house torn apart with dead bodies frozen in time.

“He seriously fucked me up, didn’t he?” you ask, laughing to yourself.

The house does smell pretty bad though, and the scent only gets stronger the more you head towards the kitchen. You have to plug your nose, strictly breathing in and out through your mouth, blinking away the tears that form in your eyes. It’s just so strong…

Going through the doorway, you take your time to look for anything that might be off. There is nothing, but you’re sure that it was coming from here specifically, and the second that you test the water with a breath of air through your nose, you gag. You go back to breathing through your mouth, even though you can taste the toxicity.

It’s not gas, that’s for sure. It’s something else…

The kitchen, the smell, the fact you haven’t been here--it’s the fridge. The food inside of the fridge and the cupboards are likely rotting. You can picture the mold in your mind already, and you shiver a little. Deciding that it’s better not to investigate further, you head straight upstairs instead.

On the way to your room, you can’t help but to pop open the doors and take a look inside. It’s just the paranoia now that’s making you do this. You don’t think you’ll find anyone in here, it’s just the thought of someone maybe hiding and waiting for you. A house like yours shouldn’t be in perfect condition, not after everything that’s happened.

And yet, there is nothing. Not even in your master bedroom, and not in the bathroom either. Despite this, you also lock your bedroom door, stripping on the way to the bathroom. And when you get inside of there, you lock that one too. For a second, the water in the shower runs cold, but then it turns warm.

While you let it heat up a little more, you take a look at yourself in the mirror for the first time in a couple of weeks. The mirrors that they have in District Thirteen are practically useless, they might as well not have them at all. You can barely see your face in them, and they’re permanently fogged over. At first, you thought that there was a protective film, until you realized that they were just shit quality.

Your fingers dance along the scars that cover you from head to toe. You turn your body to get a better angle, only to be disappointed when they continue. You force yourself to lean onto the counter, even though you’re so incredibly uncomfortable now, but curiosity is what’s fueling it all.

Then you’re able to see that the spider bite scars exist on your face too. They’re faint though, not too noticeable. What is noticeable, is the fact that there’s a scar that’s right beneath your eye. It’s so small that you can see it, even with you leaning over the counter.

You wipe the fog off the mirror, hopping onto the counter. You’re basically pressed against the mirror with how you’re seated as you desperately try to see what the fuck is beneath your eye. Wiping the mirror again, you take your chance to see.

C.S.

Your face twists as you back up, trying to think of who has those initials. Much less who would leave it on you like they’re marking their territory. You slide off the counter, rubbing beneath your eye, wishing that it’ll just go away, but it won’t.

Then it clicks, and you almost wish it hadn’t.

Coriolanus Snow.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, mouth hanging open as you watch the fog take over the mirror again, and your naked figure is covered up as a result.

He marked you. Snow fucking marked you like you’re his pet.

Your hand has swiped the vase off the counter before you’ve realized it. It isn’t until it’s shattered, when you’re jumping out of your skin. Even then, you’re still captivated by the amount of rage that’s running through your veins.

“Motherfucker!” you yell, digging your nail into the spot, gritting your teeth when it hurts. But it has to go. It has to be defaced. You won’t be seen as his. You don’t belong to Snow.

It’s a relief when your bare nail breaks skin. Though, more pain spikes in that one spot, and even in your eye a little bit. You lean on the counter, squeezing your eyes shut and giving yourself a moment to recover before you head into the shower.

You can’t fucking believe this.

You had always told yourself that you would be saving this dress for an occasion that you’d never be able to replicate. No weddings, funerals or parties. No victory tour, no get together, no reaping. You had to save it for something that would be groundbreaking, something that would change the game altogether.

At first, you didn’t want to pick it up for even this. Then you remembered that you have a chance of dying, and thought that was an event you’d never be able to replicate. Because you’d be dead.

And now that you’re walking to the justice buildings, holding the dress up so that it doesn’t get caught in the gravel and what lies inside of you, you’re beginning to see that you’ve got to make it count. Not the dress, but this entire encounter. If they don’t end up killing you, they’re definitely not going to let you come back again. Not peacefully, at least.

All you have to do is make them hesitate. Make them think for the rebel’s side for a second. That’s all you need. A moment of apprehension that they’ll never be able to take back. And since you’re pretty good at playing devil's advocate, this will be a walk in the park.

Seeing a sudden blast of dust and dirt heading your way, you make a home behind a building, aiming the umbrella you’re holding towards the corner that’s closest to you. It takes a moment before the dust storm comes through. The rocks pelt the plastic, and they attack your bare legs.

Since the umbrella is see-through, you’re able to tell when it dies down. You don’t wait to make sure that it’s over completely, because you never know when another gust will roll on in. At some point in time, you recognize the streets that the scouting group had brought you through, so you take that carefully.

You’re still fairly surprised that Paylor and Lyme hadn’t taken your statement of a survey group into consideration. And if they did, then that didn’t last as long as you thought it would. It’s literally only been two to three weeks since you were here last.

You guess that just means that they can’t spare the people as much as they could before. Which says a lot--that they’re losing the battle they swore that they’d be able to win. Coin said in one of her speeches that it wouldn’t be easy, and it would take a while. And here you are, thinking that you’ll be able to change their minds in a day.

“Watch this.” you smile to yourself.

You go around a corner, only to stop dead in your tracks. Standing right in front of you are some pretty armored people, holding a gun pointed straight at your chest.

“State your name and business.”

“I see Lyme’s upgraded her shitty guards.” you give him a smile, “(Y/n) Rosecelli.”

He lowers the gun, “You’re supposed to be in District Thirteen.”

“It’s not as glamorous as it seems.” you say, continuing your way down the alley, “Quite boring. Is Lyme in the justice building?”

“Yes, I can bring--”

“I’ve got it.” you cut him off, leaving him behind you.

“I wouldn’t recommend going that way.”

“Whatever!” you shout, going right out.

The steps to the building are pretty wrecked, but there’s just enough stone for you to be able to go up them. You hike the dress up a little higher, stomping your heels when you step, as you try to get the gravel and glass off your shoes. The people standing outside the building seem confused at first.

“Excuse me.” you say, moving right past them as you head through the doors.

You take the stairs up, still having an iron grip on the dress. You won’t let it down until you’re standing in front of rebels. You swear on everything.

You pass a third set of guards on your way inside of the meeting room that they had used the first time. When the door pops open, you can see a familiar face on the hologram screen. Alma Coin.

Paylor and Lyme look over simultaneously to see who’s entered the room.

“(Y/n)’s here.” Lyme says, standing up now.

“Good.” Coin says, “Won’t you join us?”

You make a face, stepping inside and shutting the door. You don’t head that far inside, sticking rather close to the door, but still in sight of the camera.

“Finnick’s been looking everywhere for you.” Coin tells you calmly, “We just broke the news to him.”

“And?” you ask.

“He’s disappointed that he went through all that trouble to throw a party for you.”

So that’s what he was doing earlier. Throwing you a party, and for what? God, you can’t imagine the headache you would have had through the whole thing. Fake a smile, pretend to like it. The only parties you do like are the types that go on inside of the Capitol.

It’s all lavish there. The foods are delicious, the sweets and the sour foods. The drinks they have that you swear are going to make you dehydrated, but you drink anyway. The people there are always so friendly, even when they aren’t. They’re so stupid and naive that it makes it enjoyable to be around them.

Not to mention they worshipped you.

“Am I supposed to care?” you ask, crossing your arms, “Can’t be a very good party with your district. The entire thing is probably being attended by a total of ten people, and the food and drinks are twenty years old. I’m not missing out on anything, trust me.”

Coin bites her tongue, smiling, “Maybe it’s best that you’re back in District Two, then.”

“I’m done talking to you.” you give her a mock smile, turning to Lyme and Paylor, “I’m going to solve this whole loyalist problem for you in a second. Do you want to send a camera crew with me just in case it works?”

Lyme’s confused, “No offense, but what makes you think it’ll work? Especially with your mouth?”

“Cause I know you guys have been approaching it all wrong, and rather than having a second person fuck it up for you ingrates, I’ll do it myself. I may be selfish but I’m also open minded and have a way of words when I’m not being a complete bitch.” you look at Coin, “And if it does work, you don’t get to say you planned it at all. I’m not Katniss, and I won’t be easily manipulated.

“On top of that, you’ll also owe me a shiny, brand new apartment in the heart of the Capitol. Otherwise you can take that propaganda footage and shove it up that ass of yours.” you point to Lyme and Paylor, “Camera crew, now.”

You leave the room after that, and Paylor approves the camera crew, asking one of the people in the room with them to go ahead and gather the people. In the meantime, you take a look at yourself in the nearest bathroom. Your makeup and hair are still how you left it, and the dress isn’t that dirty either.

When you get outside, there’s people already waiting to take you to the tunnels. And for their protection, they’re bringing volunteers with them. As for you, you’ll be out in the open just as you asked for.

“I live in luxury.” you tell yourself, raising your head a bit, “I belong in the Capitol. I am a loyalist. These rebels have no idea what they’re doing.”

You take the train tracks straight to the tunnel. The mountain has long since collapsed, which drew out most of the loyalists. And with Katniss’ speech after, a few surrendered. But there’s still plenty of people inside of there.

“I don’t know if we can follow you inside.” one of the girls tells you nervously, “It’s dark and unhealthy in there. If they begin firing, we’ll be the first to be brought down.”

“No, I will.” you say, “They’ll likely let you all live. If those cameras zoom well, keep as much of a distance as you can spare.”

The girl nods, “We trust you.”

You press your lips together, because it’s a first, “If I reach for my dress and turn my body like I’m going to run, you should take off immediately. I don’t plan on running, but I will if it gets too risky.”

“We’ll keep an eye out, I promise.”

Inside the tunnel, it’s even dirtier than you expected. Nonetheless, you all push through. The camera crew and the couple of armed people have masks over their face, but you work right through the dirt and smoke filled air. Even if you put a mask on now, you’ll have to take it off to talk anyway. There would be no point to it, you’re going to breathe in the air whether you like it or not.

“Stop!” A voice shouts, and you all come to a halt.

“Stay here.” you tell the crew.

Lights turn on, you cover your eyes for a moment as you blink through, trying to get adjusted to them. When you lower your hand, you can see that there’s several people ready to shoot you, and what looks like hundreds of people ready to back them up. The lights are coming from the train right in front of you.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, I’m here to speak to whoever is in charge, face to face.” you move forward, but stop a little bit after that, not wanting to push your limits.

Someone appears on the top of the train, an automatic rifle in his hands, “You shouldn’t be in here.”

You drop the dress down now, “No, I shouldn’t. This place is unfathomably filthy, and I can’t imagine how hard it is to breathe the air in here. What’s your name?”

“Jovian.”

“You know why I’m here, right?” you ask, crossing your arms, your eyes wandering over all the people waiting to see what happens.

“It’s pretty obvious, which is why I should let you know it’s not going to work, and you should leave while you can.” he tells you, “Or I’ll just make an example of you, just like how we did with Katniss.”

“Except Katniss is still alive in District Thirteen, you didn’t actually kill her.” you tell him, “Healthy as a horse, she was up on her feet the same day, ready to come right back here and give you guys a second chance.”

They won’t know you’re lying.

“We should’ve gone for her head.”

You ignore that, “There’s a big difference between Katniss and I, though. Katniss grew up in the poorest part of twelve, and I grew up in what was arguable once the richest parts of District Two. And then I won the games and got more money than I knew what to do with, and she didn’t have any time to get to realize her luxury.

“Because of this, she’ll never understand what you’ll have to sacrifice if you do take part in the fight. You’re putting everything up for a gamble. Your house, your clothes, furniture, a family. And you’d have to do it without knowing the outcome of a rebellion.”

Jovian nods slowly, “You get it.”

“Of course I do, I was once a Capitol pet too, and then Snow ended up killing my family, and then my friends on top of that.” you motion with your hand, “And I saw the type of people that we were supporting all this time. They’re nothing worth supporting, Jovian. I can promise you that.”

Jovian shakes his head, “What if you lose, huh? The district is already in deep shit because half of us are rebels, what if there’s a chance that the people who don’t fight with you, get rewarded?”

You snort, “You think he’s writing down names? You think he gives a shit if some of you were helping, and the others weren’t? All he’s going to see is that District Two had tried to help the rebels, and suddenly we’re all fucked. So why not give in? You know what will happen if there are no more hunger games, no more districts, no more districts versus the Capitol bullshit?

“You’d be able to live wherever you want--the Capitol, here, any of the other districts, places that were off limits, maybe even in some of the arenas that had gone untouched. You would work if you want to, and have a million kids without worrying about teaching them how to fight.

“There would be no more worries, Jovian. You’d still get to live the same, but it would be that much more freedom. And even if you wouldn’t want to live in any of those other places, you’d be able to visit them whenever you want. Take a vacation to the Capitol and come home to a sturdy house. And for anyone who hasn't found their soulmate because they exist in a different district, you’d have a greater chance of finding them.”

The silence that fills the tunnel is surprisingly calm, it isn’t as tense as you thought it would be. Jovian is obviously thinking all of this through.

“But we can’t win this without District Two. If we get those warehouses pumping out weapons, we’ll win this, guaranteed. It’ll be difficult, as all wars are, but we’ll win for once. We’ll get the justice we deserve, Snow will pay for all the shit he’s done.” you insist, “If you guys come with me now, there’s no hard feelings.

“There’s food, water, clothes, medicine. All you’d have to do is come with us now, and we’ll get you cleaned up, one at a time.”

Jovian looks down at you, “And you can promise us this?”

You look behind you, straight at one of the guards, “Get Paylor to confirm this.”

It takes a moment, but when her voice comes over the tunnel, echoing, saying all of what you said is true, you can’t help but to give a hopeful look to Jovian.

He takes in a deep breath, “Okay.”

“That’s just you, though.” you look to all the others, past the lights, “How about you guys? Are you willing to fight?”

“Will you be fighting with us?” someone yells to you.

This question you weren’t expecting, but you find yourself nodding before you can catch it, “Every step of the way.”

“Then sign me up.” A girl starts coming forward, behind her trails a couple of kids, they come in a line, all holding hands. She walks right past you guys.

It takes a moment before others start breaking off in groups. Jovian gives you a look, “These are my people.”

“They’re our people now.” You correct him, “And they’re going to be safe. Pack the hurt into the train and get this baby moving out here.”

You turn around, heading towards the camera, “Is it still running?”

“Yes.”

You look straight into the camera lense, “Twenty-three kids have died every year for the past seventy-four years. That’s one thousand, seven hundred and one kids that have died in the hunger games. Nearly two thousand of your kids have gone into an arena, scared and alone.

“They wouldn’t know where their next meal would come from, they didn’t know if they would get sponsors or if they were worthy of them. They likely shivered and starved and were dehydrated down to their very last days. And while it was happening, all they could picture was their blue face in the night sky, signaling another fallen tribute.

“And you’re telling me, that now there’s a rebellion happening--one that will stop a cycle of heartless and meaningless murder--you’re not going to help? You’ll finally be able to have kids, and not worry about training them the moment that they’re born. No more staying up all night worrying that it’ll be your kid picked during the reaping.

“But we can’t get there if you don’t help.” You then lean a forward, “And Coriolanus, if you’re watching, I’d like to let you know that I found the scar you left on my face. You can mark me all you fucking want, but I haven’t done your bidding since I was sixteen. How’s this for calming down District Two?”

You stand up again, “For those of you who don’t know, my name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, I won the sixty-sixth hunger games when I was sixteen. I’m from District Two, and I have to admit that I have lived in luxury since the day I was born, and coming to terms with a rebellion that has ruined my whole lifestyle, isn’t easy.

“However, if I can see past all my greediness to realize that it’s unfair that I can live in luxury and others live in dirt, then you can too. There will be no more inequality, everyone will be able to live in a stable environment, and if you don’t want that, then you’re just as ill as Snow is.”

You turn to leave after that, hiking up the dress in the front so you don’t end up stepping on it and make a fool out of yourself in the process. It’s a couple of moments before the others are scrambling to follow.

“Are you really going to fight with us?” The girl asks.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

She’s quiet for a moment, “You just don’t look like you’d been into that type of thing.”

You look at her, “Don’t be fooled by the dress and makeup. I’m a lot more than a pretty face.”

“We’ll have to get you fitted for clothing, then. You can’t march to the Capitol in a dress.”

You end the conversation, not saying anything else to her. What she said is obvious, you know that you’ll have to be dressed properly. Hell, you know what’s happening in the Capitol at the moment.

Nothing slips past you. You hear everything when it comes to secrets. You knew Johanna had been waterboarded because she failed some sort of swimming test, nearly took down a couple of people during her panic. And you knew that her and Blight were a little more than friends too.

Just like how you know that the Capitol is turning into a whole trap. Snow is planting these pods—as Beetee called them—that are near impossible to keep track of. Snow is pulling in the Capitol citizens closer, allowing him to plant more pods. Hundreds of them, every single day.

Which means that if you go out there with the other volunteers, there’s a good chance of a million things happening to you. You can’t even think of what the gamemakers would put into the streets of the Capitol. All you know is that it can’t be good.

They might as well throw in every single project that they’ve ever created since they won’t be able to use it against you all in the future. And in that case, you might not want to be in the streets of the Capitol after all.

Right when you leave the train station, there’s a giant dumpster waiting for the people leaving the tunnel. They’re forced to give up their weapons so that they can pass into the team of medics that are waiting. As you get closer, you’re able to see that there’s no struggle. Most give up their weapons without a fight, but some are a little hesitant to do so.

You and the camera crew pass by it easily, none of you are holding a significant weapon, and if you are, you’re all rebels anyway. They’re not worried about you guys turning on them, it’s more like the newly rebels that are just coming out of the tunnel.

Past all the disarming, is the group of medics that wait for everyone who makes it past the tunnel. It takes a bit for you and the camera crew to get through the dense crowd that only gets bigger. Just before you break the last line of people, you can hear the train’s horn, warning everyone that it’s coming.

Then, you get through.

Waiting on the other side of the crowd is Lyme, with a particularly impressed look on her face.

“Maybe we should have sent you in, initially.” Lyme says, “You did it effortlessly.”

“If any of you had bothered to tell me before sending Katniss in, I would have told you it was a bad idea.” You take a look behind you, “And by the way, this is a perfect example of what you should do when it comes to the Capitol citizens.”

“Want to be put in charge of that?” Lyme offers.

Your head whips towards her, “I will not play devil's advocate for them. That’s your fucking problem to sort.”

“It was just an offer.” Lyme says, but you’re already leaving towards the justice building again. Lyme’s quite taller than you, so it takes basically no effort when it comes to catching up with you, “While you were gone, Coin had someone flown in.”

You can’t help but let out a snort, “Oh, whoever should that be?”

After what you said to Coin, it’s no surprise to you. She would pull some bullshit like this to make you angry. It’s just her little form of payback.

“He’s waiting at your house.”

You look at her, “You had him escorted to my house?”

“He wouldn’t shut up about it. Gave him basic instructions to get to victor’s village, and then told him yours is the only one that hasn’t been touched.”

“Speaking of which, why is that?” you fix a curl that’s fallen into your face.

“Honestly, no clue.” Lyme says, “Good luck with Finnick.”

“Right.”

Lyme and the camera crew break off when you reach the justice building. From there, one single person brings you as far as they’re allowed to go into the town part of District Two, and then they head back to where they had been standing before you stumbled along.

You’re nearly home when your feet start to ache from the heels. And if it weren’t for the fact that the dirt is mixed in with glass, you might have taken the heels right off and walked barefoot the rest of the way. Before the rebellion, you definitely would have done that. Regardless of how people would feel about it.

Victor’s village still looks shitty, there’s not much to expect from it in the first place. It’s not like it’s going to have changed in the past hour or two. Although, you thought that you might find Finnick poking around in the abandoned, charcoal black houses.

Through the first arch and into the second reveals your perfect house. The door is shut--so it looks like Finnick knows his manners--and you don’t waste time going inside.

Swinging the door open, you make a point to slam it shut when you get inside. You don’t even move from the doorway before you’re tearing the heels off your feet, massaging them one at a time. Then, you head upstairs to your room.

If Finnick wants to speak, Finnick can come and find you. He invited himself to District Two, he was able to find your house, he’ll be able to find you.

Or rather, the other way around.

Finnick’s lounging on your bed when you walk in. In his hand he holds a book with your face on it. You can’t help but roll your eyes--that book was forced on you by Snow. He thought it was a good idea to draw in more attraction to you. And unfortunately it worked, and after that, you spent a couple more weeks than you were meant to, inside of the Capitol.

Of course, it ran short when everyone heard about your sour attitude, no matter what time of the day it was. People revoked their… reservations, and you were forced to go home.

“Welcome.” you say bitterly, opening the wardrobe doors and tossing your shoes inside, then you unzip the dress from the back with little to no problem.

“So the friendliness didn’t last long.” Finnick sounds amused, but when you turn to look over your shoulder, you can see that it’s not how he’s feeling. There’s a hint of a scowl on his face, maybe some touch of annoyance.

“Thank god.” you hang the dress up, then you close the wardrobe door and move onto the bathroom.

You tear off everything that you wouldn’t normally wear. The bracelets, earrings, rings. The only thing you leave is the necklace Tanith gave you, otherwise it’s all gone. And as soon as you get into the bathroom, it’s tossed into the jewelry drawer, which is absolute hellfire to sift through.

Finnick follows you to the bathroom, and watches as you remove the makeup, unphased by the fact that you’re half naked again, “Did you actually mean any of it?”

You pause for a moment, “Mean what? What I said to Johanna? Every word, she fucking asked for it. Antagonizing me and all that, she should have seen it coming.”

“The apology.” Finnick clarifies.

“I meant that, yes.” there’s no hesitation.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” he turns and leaves the bathroom.

“So now what?” you call, “You’re going back to District Thirteen?”

Finnick laughs, “Dream on.”

You roll your eyes, “It was worth a shot.”

“Your house smells like shit, by the way.”

“It’s the kitchen, feel free to clean it out if it bothers you that much. I just figured that this house would be blown to bits the second Snow gets a chance because of what I said.”

“Speaking of which.” Finnick comes back, he’s got some clothes for you hanging over his arm, “The front lines?”

You scowl at him a little bit, “Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through someone’s clothes? And yes, the front lines.”

Regardless, you pull on the shorts and shirt after tossing the makeup wipes away. You unpin your hair, letting it all fall into place unnaturally, which causes you to just pull it right back up into a ponytail anyway to keep it out of your face.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

You side-eye him, “Let me guess, you’re coming along?”

Finnick smiles, “You know me better than I thought.”

“No, you just have a thing for following me around, so I figured. Just like how Lyme didn’t even have to say your name, and I knew you came.” you grin a little, “How was the party, by the way?”

“Surprisingly boring without you there.”

“You’re saying that I’m entertainment?” you ask.

“The best.” Finnick smiles.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter fifteen

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Eleven (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4.2k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

You run your fingers over the white cotton sheet, trying to ignore the fact that you’re currently inside of the training center. You’d be able to recognize this place with your eyes closed. It’s made out of concrete with all the newest technologies. The people that are walking around here--especially the avoxes--have the same clothes and designs as the people inside of the training center.

Of course, the avoxes change clothes, but the things they wear are still outstanding and degrading to differentiate them from everyone else. They still look as best as they possibly can while also looking like a servant. That doesn’t mean that they can’t re-wear clothes though, which is exactly what’s happened.

The avox that stands in the corner of your room wears the same black and white plaid outfit that they wore during the night of the interviews. It’s a terrifying outfit, really. You absolutely hate it, which is another reason why you’re avoiding eye contact. You’d ask them to turn around if it weren’t for the fact that she has to keep an eye on you.

The doors to your “hospital room” are glass, you can see right through them. Which also means that you’re able to watch the doctors that come in and out of rooms. Some push carts, others don’t. It doesn’t really matter, all that does is that there’s brief moments where someone isn’t in the hallway.

They all look so rushed, as if they’re working on some sort of deadline. How fast they’ll move…

It’s almost as if there’s something going on out there. Or they don’t want you catching on to what’s happening.

“Huh.” you push yourself up from the bed, impatient at the lack of attention that you’re getting, compared to whatever is going on out there.

As soon as you get too close to the glass, the avox jerks forward and grabs a hold of your arm. It’s not a tight grasp, she just pulls you back a little, and then lets go. Hell, from what you can see, she’s fearful. Like you’ll blow up on her or something.

“Is someone coming, then? Soon?” you ask, and she nods.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you take a seat on the bed again. This time, you find something to occupy yourself. Firstly, there’s no cut on the back of your head anymore, it feels like. No bump, no dip, it might be completely healed. It really just means that you’ve been here for a couple of days.

As for everything else that has happened to you--it’s gone. No more scabs from the man-eating spiders. Your skin is smooth, but that doesn’t excuse every single little scar that it’s left behind.

Your heart twists, you hold your arms out in front of you, seeing the fresh scars. Next are your legs, which are even fresher. They’ve still got that bright color to them, not yet blending into your skin tone. And it’s probably because you didn’t pay as much attention to your legs as you did your upper body.

Which was because your upper body was being televised. For the rest of that day, you were only in a sports bra. There really wasn’t a point in your eyes to just strip down the bottom half of the suit to apply ointment that wouldn’t even stay put. No one would be seeing it anyway.

The scars are fixable, you think. It’ll cost money, but you can get clear skin again--’polished’ as they say. It would have to come before the rest of the tattoos, though… and the old tattoos would also have to be fixed in that case. A lot of money, and you’re not too fond of fixing those tattoos. They’re memories, keepsakes.

You could always just get the rest of your body fixed, and leave your arms alone to avoid all the fixing stuff. It’s your best bet.

You look to your left wrist to see the soulmate words. You rub your thumb over them for a moment, and then scowl.

They left you behind. They left you with Johanna and Peeta, which was the worst thing that they could have done.

They didn’t even wait. Or even try with you standing there--it’s not like they couldn’t have seen you! You were standing right fucking there beneath their noses. And with how everything had gone down, you’re sure they could have afforded one more drop. There was more than enough time.

The glass doors slide open, making you look up.

You can’t help the amount of rage that shoots through your veins instantly.

“And so we meet again,” the words are bitter out of your mouth, you press your lips together in a thin line.

President Snow.

He motions the avox out of the room, and she listens without hesitance. With that, Snow sits in the chair--that you hadn’t even noticed was there--and crosses his legs.

“Yes we do.” he says.

You clench and unclench your teeth while you stare at him, trying not to have an attitude, since this man can kill you with the snap of his fingers and not even feel remorse for it. However, it all goes out the window because he’s sitting right in front of you with a smug look.

This motherfucker has ruined your life over and over and over.

Before your first games, you had it good. You had a big, loving family. You had two sisters and three brothers, and a pair of parents that would do anything to protect you all. Your grandparents, aunts, and uncles, and cousins were all alive. You had big gatherings during the summers, and cried when they had to go home.

And then you volunteered for the games, as you were instructed to do. You won your games, and at the end of your so-very-rich victory tour, he presents you with the worst fucking offer you’ve ever heard. Sell yourself for more money. Money, jewels, riches, clothes, love--adoration.

Except, it wasn’t an offer, he was telling you. But what he wasn’t telling you, was that he was picking off those cousins, those aunts, uncles and grandparents. Next were those siblings of yours, and when you said no for the final time, your parents. You came home to a fucking massacre in your childhood home.

Everyone looked like they were frozen in place. They were shot, beaten, bruised and bloody, but they were right where they had been when it had happened. Your father was still in his armchair, your mother face-down in dirty sink water, your siblings playing in their rooms, reading books, sleeping.

It was all the same for the rest of your family too.

And when the first fucking check with your victory money came through, you used it all to put them in the ground. You basically had your own fucking cemetary.

The worst part is that you agreed after all that. He had killed everyone, and yet you still went through with it, as if you had anything else to lose. Your family was the only thing that you had left. It wouldn’t be the same if he killed friends, because it’s not you who would be grieving anymore, it would be their family.

While you were touring the Capitol on President Snow’s order, you got the tattoos done. You had the flowers done first for your family, every name had a flower that reminded you of them, and at your wrist would be the soulmate tattoo. You had your left arm done first so that the Capitol people would think that you were being sweet.

Then you had the graveyard done. And along came the graveyard, came the nastiest fucking attitude any of them had seen. It only took a week before Snow basically packaged you up and sent you back to District Two. He has to admit that it was smart of you to do that. And for fucksake, you’d do it again.

The attitude is a defense mechanism to keep the people who are too weak-hearted and manipulative-looking away. Only the ones who don’t care, stick through it. And they tend to be the more understanding type on top of that.

The last time that you saw President Snow--other than on tv or in person as the tribute parade--was when he tried to convince you to allow Tanith to be sold around the same way you were.

You felt so fucking smart then, for picking her out specifically. You basically told Snow ‘good luck’ with trying to find anyone she cared about to kill off. She’s a fucking orphan, and back then she didn’t really like you very much. So, he couldn’t get to her by attacking you.

With Zavian, he just wasn’t desirable.

“Stop staring and get to it already.” you snap, lowering your chin a bit as you bite your cheek.

Snow laughs, “Never was one for small talk.” he pauses for a moment, his face becoming more serious, “What do you know about Katniss Everdeen and her plan?”

Well, this can be a very easy answer, or a very hard one.

Technically, you don’t know anything. You don’t know any part of the plan that they had going on, except for the fact that they had to keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta the entire time. Just to make sure that they wouldn’t get hurt, killed or ran off. The only thing you had the slightest clue on, was the fucking time on when you guys would get out. And even then, it seemed like that was unplanned.

But at the same time, you know a lot more than you’re supposed to, thanks to that talk with Finnick before the interviews. His question of whether or not you were a loyalist was an immediate click. You knew in that exact moment that he was planning something with the others.

You look over Snow’s face, he’s studying you, waiting patiently. It’s only been a couple of seconds.

You can’t play dumb, you can’t say anything stupid or he will know and be on your ass almost as quickly as you knew of the plan.

“You want the truth?” you ask him, he motions for you to get started, “I didn’t know anything, I wasn’t told a single thing--I put the pieces together myself, and it wasn’t very easy to do. Which means, I could be completely wrong.”

“Tell me what you think you know, then.”

“I thought that Finnick, Katniss, Peeta, and Johanna were in an alliance, and that they were all getting along.” you lean forward, “I was wrong. Katniss wanted to kill Finnick in the cornucopia until he showed her some dumb bracelet that belonged to Haymitch.

“I only stuck around them inside of the arena cause Finnick and I are soulmates.” you hold up your wrist for Snow to see, “I wouldn’t have dreamt of doing it otherwise.”

Snow squints at you, ignoring your arm, “What else?”

“Finnick and I had a conversation thirty minutes prior to the interviews.” you lift your chin a little now, trying to recall the entire conversation, “The basis was an alliance between him and I, at least. I chose to ask because of the scores that they had all gotten, thinking that it would be better to be on their good side. I didn’t want to be hunted.”

Snow watches you hesitate, and you know that there’s no way you can avoid this now.

The thing is, you’re trying to not get anyone in trouble, while also saving your own ass, and it’s hard to do. Because you don’t owe any of them a single thing, but there’s something in your chest telling you to do it anyway.

You feel… anxious. And it’s your own emotion.

Your voice is quieter, “Finnick had asked me a peculiar question just before the conversation was over, and I still don’t know what it means.” Snow won’t be able to tell if you’re being truthful or not, “He asked me if I was a loyalist.”

Snow hums, rubbing his white beard, “That’s not it.”

You shake your head, “That’s it. Finnick knew that I had wanted to be in their alliance to be able to kill him and the others. He said that he wouldn’t let me in because of that, and then he asked me if I was a loyalist. I told him I didn’t know what he’s getting at.” you draw your eyebrows together, “That’s when Haymitch came around the corner, must’ve heard us talking or something. He said that the interviews had started, and the conversation ended after that.”

“Which hallway?”

“The uh--first hallway to the left if you’re standing in the main corridor. In the direction of leaving the backstage area.”

Snow nods now, standing to leave.

“When do I get to go home?” you ask, sliding off the bed to get to your feet too. He’s not going to leave the room until he gives you an answer.

“Soon. I want to show you something first.” Snow says, “Get dressed.”

He takes a step out, leaving around the corner. The avox comes in with some clothes, nicely folded in her arms. The doors don’t offer much coverage, but it’s not really anything they haven’t seen before.

You strip, pulling on the new clothing carefully, afraid of hurting your newly healed skin. It’s a pair of black skinny jeans, and a pink shirt with a breast pocket. The avox then holds out a pair of black tennis shoes for you to slip on after that. And when you’re done, she leads the way out of the room.

You follow her down the hall, passing by everyone who’s moving so quickly. When you get a glance through the windows into the courtyard, you can see that you’re on the base floor, and the building towers over you.

The hallways wind confusingly, but the avox manages. She has this place memorized as if there’s a map in her mind. For a while, you’re confident and unaware of your surroundings, until you pass through a hallway with cages. Only then do you get apprehensive.

Snow is in the next room, which is a corridor of white. The avox backs off, standing in the corner, and you take it upon yourself to approach Snow by yourself. He’s in front of a particular door, staring through the window in the door.

“Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair and Beetee Latier have been taken to District Thirteen, did you know that?” Snow asks, he looks at you briefly, before back through the door.

There’s a sick feeling in your stomach.

“No, I didn’t.” You don’t want to see what’s through that window.

“But you knew that they were taken out of the arena.”

Just thinking about that night gives you a goddamn headache, especially with all that happened afterwards.

After the hovercraft had left, you stared for what felt like forever. Feeling dejected and betrayed, especially with all the time that had been left over. No one came for you, so it was up to you to decide what would happen next.

When you had finally gotten over your feelings, you went ahead and found Johanna, who was right next to a panicked Peeta. Screaming in her face about how all of that was her fault. Johanna took it like a champ, with her mouth sealed shut and everything. But the second that you were there, Peeta turned on you like a rabid dog.

You tried to take a page from Johanna’s book as you calmly explained to him that Katniss, Finnick and Beetee were taken by a hovercraft.

Peeta didn’t like that, and with him getting in your face, an anger was rising from your stomach to your throat. Like simmering grease, only you’re not supposed to let grease simmer. Because it gets dangerous, begins to pop and burn the skin, and that was exactly what had happened.

You tried to get Peeta to back off, because you didn’t want to make a huge mistake with Johanna standing two feet away. But he kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing so you swung. He fell, and when he tried to get back up, still running his fucking mouth, you lost it.

You hadn’t felt that angry since you found out that your entire family was dead. You did everything you could possibly imagine to harm Peeta in that moment. The first kick to his ribs was the weakest, but the second definitely left some sort of damage. Then Johanna tried to come over, and you knocked her out without a second swing.

Peeta would have gotten the absolute shit beaten out of him if it weren’t for the second hovercraft that had shown up. Only, this one dropped peacekeepers, and you knew instantly that you were in huge trouble. With the arena falling apart, the fire eating at the forest around you, the lack of Katniss, Beetee and Finnick due to an earlier hovercraft, and the fact that you were clearly grouped up with the two morons.

Johanna was an easy grab, Peeta fought relatively hard, and there was no struggle from you. The only thing you actually remember is getting a sedative inside of the hovercraft, and that was it.

“Yes, I knew that they were taken out of the arena.” you answer Snow, blinking a bit to refocus your eyes, “And that means that Peeta and Johanna are here.”

Snow moves aside for you to see inside, and with the pucker of your lips, you move over to see inside. You clench your teeth, expecting the worst, and when you do finally look in, it’s… you can’t put it into words.

Peeta is strapped to a chair, malnourished, purple eye bags that are see able even from this distance. He looks nothing like he did before, he looks gross. Like a…

Like a boy that would have to file for tesserae to eat for the next year. A kid from the Seam.

You swallow thickly, “What the fuck?”

“If I find out that you aren’t telling the truth--” His voice is measured, but there’s an underlying tone, anger, you think, “--then I will bring you back from District Two. And I will be getting the real answers.”

If this is what they’ve done to Peeta--sack of flour, absolutely harmless--you can’t imagine what loudmouth Johanna looks like.

“I’m telling the truth.” you tell him, your eyes flickering back to Peeta.

He’s spotted you now, and the two of you stare at each other, eyes locked and neither of you move. With the look of you, he relaxes. It’s strange that the sight of you gives him so much peace, even though you would have killed him if the peacekeepers hadn’t come. But he must see something in your face, because he draws his eyebrows together, like he’s asking a question.

“How long have I been here?” you ask Snow.

“A couple of weeks.”

You look at him now, “I’ve been in a coma?”

“Medically induced. Those spiders weren’t just flesh-eating, they were venomous too.”

Not to mention your head injury, and everything else that had occurred inside of there. You might as well be lucky to be alive.

“I want you to do something for me, when you do get back to District Two.” Snow says, you look at Peeta again to see that the glass is blocked.

“Which is?”

“Show them that you are a loyalist, and get the rebels to calm down.”

One word spirals up in your mind, strong and stubborn that you struggle to hold down; No.

They have Peeta strapped to that chair like he’s an animal. They’re starving him, they’re depriving him of sleep, and that window is blocked because they’re doing something to him.

“I’m not agreeing to that until I get to see Johanna and anyone else you have here.” you tell him, “Only then I will try to get two to settle down.”

Snow smiles a little, “You’ll have two weeks.”

You nearly laugh in his face right then, but manage to hold it back, “I don’t have much of a choice, I’ve already agreed, haven’t I?”

Snow nods approvingly, before leading you right next door. In this chair is Johanna. Her hair is shaved, she’s soaking wet, and she’s thrashing against the restraints without control. You take back what you said about Peeta, this is an animal. Doing this to Johanna is like putting an angry lion inside of a small cage. It’s only a matter of time before she gets out and explodes.

She looks just as hungry and tired as Peeta does. But Peeta isn’t getting nearly as bad as tortured as she is. She looks like she’s been through hell and back, as if she’s seen the devil himself and laughed in his face.

In this case, Snow would be the devil, and she would be the exact fool to do something like that.

Johanna spots you the same way that Peeta did, by the off chance that her eyes glance over the glass. The second that she has, she relaxes for a moment, and the window is covered almost immediately after.

The both of them had the same reaction upon seeing you. You can’t think of a reason why, until it hits you. They have to be thinking that you’re here to save them. You’re seeing the state that they’re in, and they’re hoping that you’ll relay the message to tell someone of their condition, you’re sure of it.

Snow grabs your arm, yanking you along to the door across from Johanna’s. When you look into this one, you’re a little more confused.

“Annie Cresta wasn’t inside of the hunger games.” you place your hand against the glass, “Why--”

“Leverage.” Snow says simply, “Who would she belong to, Miss Rosecelli? Who would tear the world apart to get to her?”

It dawns on you then, and you nod a little bit. Finnick, obviously. This is Finnick’s girlfriend, the one that you told him to keep.

“What’s the point of having her if you’re not starving her like the rest?” you ask.

“I do have morals.”

‘Not very high ones’, you think.

“I’m surprised,” you look at Snow, “Considering all the other shit you’ve done, you still have a heart.”

Annie is healthy, that’s all you have to say about her. She’s got rope to twirl and knot, she’s got books to read, food to eat and a nice bed. She’s not strapped to anything, it looks like she has medication, and she’s content. You can’t help but to wonder if she’s secretly going insane or plotting her escape, though.

“One more room.” Snow ignores your comment, ushering you to the door to the right of Annie’s.

You shuffle over, thinking that Snow couldn't have possibly taken anyone else that would matter. Beetee’s girlfriend--or whatever Wiress was to him--is long gone. There’s no leverage to have against her.

“Take a look inside.” he’s smug.

You stare for a moment, before following his directions.

Tanith.

Your hand flies up, going to grab the doorknob, but Snow stops you, a tight hand on your wrist, “Just in case you thought that it’s only your life on the line.”

He’s threatening to kill her.

You clench your teeth together, not removing your eyes from Tanith. She looks almost as bad as the other two do. Except, Tanith is a few days behind. Snow didn’t start the process on her until recently. It won’t take long until she catches up, because he could make that happen at the snap of his wrinkly fucking fingers.

“I understand.” you grind your teeth.

She’s not awake to see you, Snow was anticipating this visit. He had her knocked out so that she wouldn’t try and fight against the restraints. She’s smart enough to slip out of them, it makes you curious if Snow knows that too, or he just wanted to see your reaction to having her unconscious. Like he’s trying to trick you into thinking she’s dead.

“The avox will take you to the hovercraft.” he lets you go, “Two weeks.”

Snow has just made the biggest mistake in his life.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter eleven

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Twelve (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 3k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The second that you stepped foot off of the hovercraft, all you heard was the distant sound of gunfire. The peacekeeper gave you a bitter reminder of your due date, and then kicked you off the ramp almost instantly after. You waited a moment to make sure that the hovercraft was long gone, and then you went straight for the noise.

You know that they would want you to head straight to your house, which is the exact reason why you chose not to. They probably have something there waiting for you. A note, a bunch of roses, your house being trashed, bloodstains--maybe it’s been set on fire! It doesn’t matter to you all that much.

You’d much rather know what’s going on in the heart of the district, than take a shower and get a change of clothes. Plus, you only have two weeks until your evaluation by Snow, which means you have to act fast. And this is all under the assumption that there won’t be people checking up on you every couple of days.

You came up with a plan on the way here, as any sane person would. The basis of the plan being; you’re not going to follow Snow’s directions in the slightest. You’re not going to calm the people down, you’re going to add fuel to the fire.

Snow threatening to kill Tanith is the last fucking straw. Him threatening to strap you to a chair and torture you like Peeta and Johanna is one thing, but bringing Tanith into this, when she has nothing to do with it, is a whole ‘nother ring of hell. If he thought for one fucking second that he’d get away with a statement like that, he’s wrong.

You’re not going to fuck up your life twice, especially not because of what Snow says or does.

You weigh the necklace in your hand for a second, staring down at it. Then, you unclasp it, and bring it around your neck. Once it’s not tangled in your hair, you let it rest against your chest.

The entire district seems to be barren--at least that’s what you’ve seen on the way. All houses have their doors shut, but windows are broken and porches are in splinters. The shops are basically the same way, though it’s much worse. Some are burnt down, others are void of all things that were once inside.

It looks like a tornado blew through here, and had no mercy. Everything that could have been ruined, is. It’ll cost thousands of dollars to fix the damage done on these places. Buying a whole new house or store would be much easier than to restore what it looked like before.

“Approaching civilian!” Someone yells above you.

Covering your eyes, you look up to see where they are, since this is the first person you’ve come across the entire walk. The second that your eyes adjust, you’re met with a gun pointed at your face.

“Point that away from me!” you snap.

“Who are you, and how did you get back here?” a different voice asks closer to you.

Lowering your hand and whipping your head to where it came from, the situation isn’t much better. There’s a man with an automatic rifle pointed at your chest, finger near the trigger as if he doesn’t know if he should pull it or not. Not to mention all the people behind him hovering, and having the same intentions as him.

You should pick your words carefully.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, victor of the sixty sixth hunger games, tribute of the Quarter Quell.” What a hell of an introduction, “And I walked.”

He lowers the gun a bit, “You’re alive?”

Your first reaction is to scoff, “It’ll take a lot more than the Capitol to kill me, am I supposed to be dead?”

“That’s what we were told.”

“Hell of a shock, then.” you resume walking, “Who’s in charge of District Two’s rebellion? Like, who’s organizing the attacks against the loyalists?”

“Lyme.” A girl answers, “She’s also a victor.”

Lyme… well, you definitely recognize the name, and you can hardly remember what she looks like. Tall, likes to exercise, short blonde hair. She’s always been more modest and rebellious, it doesn’t surprise you that much. She’s older than you, almost twice your age.

“Take me to her.” you tell them.

“You’ve got it.” the boy says.

It’s a long walk, as you’re told. The only good news he had to offer was that you wouldn’t have to fight your way through gunfire to get to the Capitol building--where she’s at. They’ve pushed back most of the loyalists into the train tunnels that run through the mountains. Everyday they gain new ground, but they don’t really dare to go inside of the tunnels. It’s the loyalists’ territory.

“So, where have you been?”

“The Capitol.” you say, following the boy around the corner, “Unconscious and recovering from venom. I’m not easy to get rid of.”

“How’d you get here?”

“Snow organized a personal hovercraft to drop me in the abandoned part of District Two, near Victor’s Village. You should probably get some people watching over there in case it happens again, so the peacekeepers won’t be able to sneak up on you as easily.”

They don’t say anything else after that, even though you mentioned Snow pretty boldly. Of all things they could have asked you about, they ignored the one that would give them the most answers on why you’re here and wanting to see Lyme first.

“I’m going to check to make sure that it’s clear.” the girl says, the rest of you wait for minutes on end, and none of them seem antsy about it.

When she does show up, she tells you that you’re clear to head up, but they’ve got to go back to parolling. She says that you should mention the abandoned thing to Lyme, since she’s more likely to listen to you, and then they walk away.

You take the easiest path you could possibly take to approach the Justice Building. It’s also the one that will put you in the open, allowing the people standing out front to get a good look at you. If you snuck up through the shadows, they’d likely be more distrusting.

You hold your hands up even before you’re out from around the corner. They turn their guns on you quickly, but you don’t stop walking, “I’m here to speak to Lyme.”

“Stop--!”

“I don’t have any weapons on me, put your guns down before you shoot me by accident.” you head up the stairs, “My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, and I’m here to talk to Lyme. I don’t have much time, so let’s leave the formalities for another time.”

“We should go get her--”

The second you turn to look at him, he stiffens, “Open the fucking door and bring me to her, or you’re going to be added to the graveyard.”

His eyes slowly drag to your arm, which is very clearly presented thanks to the short-sleeved shirt.

No words come from him as he opens the door and heads inside. You follow behind him, and from how new your shoes are, they sound like heels against the tile floor. You’re surprised that they aren’t squeaking as if you’ve just come in with water on the bottom of them. You guess that you should be grateful instead.

The guy brings you up the staircase, “You don’t have any weapons on you?”

You have a hundred snarky things that you’re willing to say to him, but you settle for the simple, “No.”

He brings you around a corner, and knocks on a door a couple times. He makes you wait out of sight while he opens the door, “You’ve got a guest.”

“We’re busy--”

“She insists.” he says, and then he allows you to come over.

You don’t wait in the doorway, you head straight inside, “Scram, runt.”

He tries to stand his ground, but the second you force the door to shut, he removes his fingers. After that, you go up to the table to see who’s standing there.

Lyme, as you expected. But there’s a strangely familiar face standing near her, finger still pointing out a place on the map. When she realizes that you see the place she’s pointing at, she retracts her finger into a fist.

“Who are you?” she asks.

You laugh, crossing your arms as you get closer to the map. There’s a bunch of lines drawn in pink marker, and considering the amount of space left behind the line, you’re guessing that’s the rebel’s side. As for the loyalists, they’re marked in red, like they’re the bad guys.

You place your hand on the free space, “Just letting you know, since this entire place is abandoned, the Capitol can sneak right in.” you look up, they’re puzzled, “The Capitol had enough room to drop me off and leave without anyone noticing--I walked for miles until I finally came upon one of your scouting groups. If you’re not careful, they can drop peacekeepers off behind you guys, and you might as well be extinct after that.”

“You’re from the Capitol?” Lyme asks, one of the guys by the window reaches for something in their belt, you can take a solid guess on what it is, even without the sight of it.

“I’m a little disappointed that you don’t recognize me, but I can point you two out even if your guys’ hunger games were ten to twenty years before mine.” you remove your hand from the map now, “As I’ve introduced myself a hundred times now, (Y/n) Rosecelli, District Two’s tribute for the Quell.”

Lyme’s face lights up, “I thought I knew you. You were in the Capitol?”

“Snow took Peeta, Johanna and I out of the arena. While he was ordering people to torture Johanna and Peeta, he put me in a ‘medically induced coma’.” you use the quotation marks, “Because of the spider venom in the arena. Today is my first day back to life, and I’ve experienced more than my fair share of shit today.”

“Welcome back.” Paylor says.

Paylor is a victor from District Eight, like six years or so before your games. She’s young, and really fucking pretty. You’re just a little dumbfounded on why she’s here in District Two, rather than ordering around her own district.

“Thanks.”

Lyme shifts on her feet, “You don’t look too bad.”

“I’ve got scars all over my body, they’re just not visible above the waist.” you shake your head, “And the only reason why I’m even in good condition, is because Snow wants me to calm down the rebels.”

“But you’re not going to.” There’s an edge to Paylor’s voice.

“No, I’m not. Instead, I want a ride to District Thirteen. That’s where Katniss and Finnick are, right?”

Lyme nods, but her face is scrunched up, “I can’t send a hovercraft there because I don’t have any. You’ll have to wait until Coin sends one here with supplies.”

“Coin?”

“President Alma Coin.” Paylor answers, “She’s the leader of District Thirteen.”

Great, another dictatorship.

“Alright, when’s the next supply drop?” you shift on your feet.

Paylor and Lyme share a look, clearly thinking.

“We got one a week ago?” Lyme asks.

“Not even that, a few days ago,” Paylor shakes her head when she looks back at you, “You’ll have to wait at least a week, maybe more.”

You laugh, but nothing about this is funny, “You do know the state of Peeta and Johanna?”

“We know about Peeta, he’s been televised a few times.” A guy says.

“Alright, well take the last time that he was on air, and worsen that by ten. They’re fucking torturing them, you realize that? Johanna had her head shaved and she was drenched in water, like they were waterboarding her.” you lean forward, “We need to get them out.”

“We don’t have an opening for that, much less know where they’re keeping them--”

“The training center.” you say, “And I know how to get to them, I was a door away from them, Peeta and Johanna saw me.”

“That’s the heart of the Capitol.” Paylor says, “Even if we did get the volunteers to do it, we wouldn’t be able to go.”

You raise your eyebrows, “You’re telling me that Beetee hasn’t tried to hack into the security already? Didn’t he work on it for them? He would know some secret window at least.”

They share another look, and Lyme tilts her head, “She has a point.”

“And then what? You think anyone would actually want to go in?” Paylor asks, “It’s a suicide mission.”

“Listen to me,” you lean forward on the table now, they look at you, “I have two weeks--maybe not even that. If Snow finds out that I was lying or keeping information from him, he’s going to come for me and I’ll end up like Peeta, Johanna and Tanith. And if I don’t help the loyalists, he’s going to kill Tanith.

“I am working on a strict time frame, and you guys bickering about this, isn’t helping. Contact Alma Coin or whatever, at least present the idea, and if she likes it and asks for volunteers, you put me at the top of that fucking list. I will lead as many volunteers as she wants to the others. The only thing I ask in return is a free ride to District Thirteen.

“If Tanith is out of his hands, and I’m in thirteen, Snow can’t do anything to me.” you raise your eyebrows, “He won’t be able to use anyone as leverage anymore, and you’ve gained another foot in the rebellion. But all that can’t happen without you at least suggesting the idea to your supreme leader first.”

Lyme rubs her forehead for a moment, before saying; “Get Coin on a call.”

“Want to sit?” someone asks, pulling out a stool.

“Thanks.” you sit, crossing your legs.

You watch as they set up the entire call and as it pends. You spend most of the time fiddling with the hemming on the bottom of the shirt, ripping the stitching out, and then pulling on the string.

Paylor goes back to what she was saying with the map and all before you came inside. She writes down that she needs to add people to scout behind her lines, and then plans the ways that they can get into the tunnel. You want to chime in some way, but you keep out of it.

You can help as soon as Tanith is safe. You need to get Tanith out of the Capitol first, because if you’re even taped being around Lyme and Paylor with no argument going on or anything, you’re going to be fucked. Snow doesn’t have any morals, as much as he hates to admit it. He’s heartless.

“The call’s gone through.” the one by the computer says, “Plutarch’s answered.”

He projects it onto the large blank wall in front of you, but Paylor has to turn around to see him.

“Plutarch… Heavensbee? The gamemaker?” you ask, “Why?”

“He’s the one that helped organize getting them out.” Lyme tells you.

Plutarch has a smile on his face, “(Y/n), it’s nice to see you healthy.”

“You got Katniss, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena?” you ask.

Plutarch nods, “With the help of Haymitch, yes.”

“Fuck you.” you spit, “You fucking left me there! I was right there--you could have gotten me and you let me be taken by the Capitol! You’re the reason why the Capitol has had me for the past couple of weeks, you asshole--”

“Calm.” Lyme comes over, placing her hand on your shoulder, “You can yell at him later, keep on track.”

“Whatever.” you shrug her hand off, crossing your arms.

Paylor picks up where you didn’t start, “She’s been in the training center with the other tributes. She knows how to get to them, and we’d like to try and revisit the idea of a rescue mission with the tributes.”

His face says no, but his words say otherwise; “I wish it was my decision, but Coin has already decided that now isn’t the time. Especially not after we were just attacked by the Capitol.”

“When?” Lyme asks.

“A couple hours ago, we haven’t gone to the surface just yet to make sure that it’s over.”

Your mouth drops open a little bit, “I was on that hovercraft.”

Paylor nearly breaks her neck from how fast her head whips in your direction, “You were?”

“Yeah--I thought it was odd that the space was filled with… bombs. I was expecting them to attack two almost immediately after I hit the city, but they just flew off, away from the direction of the Capitol.” You shake your head, “Before you ask; no, I didn’t hear anything while I was in there.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Paylor sighs, “Where’s Coin?”

“Making sure the systems are still running, I sent someone to get her, so she should be here soon.”

“Good.” you slide off of the stool, “Because when she gets there, you’re going to do everything you can to convince her to consider the idea.”

Plutarch raises his eyebrows.

“She means--” Lyme tries.

“I mean what I said.” you lean against the table, staring at Plutarch’s face, “If you were just attacked, they’re going to be expecting some sort of retaliation. So, you attack their defense systems using Beetee’s knowledge. You get them down long enough, and that’s when the hovercraft slips through. Beetee stops, and then when the hovercraft is heading back, he starts again, or whatever.”

“That’s not exactly how things work…” someone in the corner mumbles.

“Well, they need to make it work.” you stand again, “Because I will be getting them all out of the training center. Even if I’m the only volunteer, I’ll do it.”

Plutarch laughs, “Not hellbent on killing them anymore?”

“They’re strapped to chairs being tortured like animals. Even I know when enough is enough.” you back off after that, “If I come back in here in an hour, and her answer is no, you better start fucking praying, because I am much worse than the Capitol.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter twelve

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Ten 1/2 (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 2.3k

Warnings; swearing, murder!

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

DOUBLE UPDATE TODAY --> make sure to check out chap10 first!

–

You grit your teeth as you stare at the gaping hole in the arena. Hexagon by hexagon, it falls apart. And each time it hits the ground, it sends another earthquake off. The amount of electricity running through the hexagons have caught the jungle on fire. Around you, it burns a loud orange color.

The air is black from the fire, and as you inhale it, you resist the urge to cough your lungs out. The ashes of what was once a tree swim through the air, slowly finding their way down to the green jungle flooring.

The heat of the flames lick at you skin, and yet you make no move to leave the lightning tree. You continue to stand and stare at where the hovercraft once was. Some part of you thinks that it’s coming back, but the other knows very well that it’s not coming. It’s just you.

They left you here even though they saw you. They took the three that mattered the most and left you and the other two to fend for yourselves down here. To find a shelter away from this fire and care for the wounds that you had taken for the sake of their safety and agenda.

You don’t deserve to be here. You don’t deserve to be standing in this ring of fire as if you’re nothing. You did as much work as the others did, but they still didn’t see it as enough. They saw you as disposable.

Minute after minute passes, and you can’t bring yourself to leave. You stay like you’re anchored to the dirt. It’s the hope that’s burning inside of you that keeps you from going. You just want them to come back out of guilt and take you with them. It’s so incredibly unfair.

But that’s just how life is sometimes.

You swing the glaive in your hand, glaring at the collapsing trees around you. And right as one of them comes crashing down onto another, you swing the glaive right into the lightning tree with all the strength you have. You grab onto it with two hands and yank, thinking that it’ll come loose freely, but it’s stuck.

“Fucker!” you shout, slamming your fist onto the bar, which only bends it.

You turn after that, heading straight into the trail that you all had made when you came up this way. You, Johanna and Katniss had enforced the trail on your way back down to the water.

You should have stuck with Finnick. It doesn’t matter that it would have screwed up their plan to get the tracker out of Katniss. Had you stuck next to Finnick, then you would be out of here too. In a hovercraft, on the way to--who the fuck knows! At least it wouldn’t be a jungle that’s on fire.

On your way down the hill, you reach into your boots and throw the ointment and cream, not caring that it might come in handy. At this point, with the rate that this arena is deteriorating, the chances of any of you making it out alive is a joke. Unless you go straight to the cornucopia and sit on the rocks while you wait for the flames to run out of fuel.

But that’ll take days. And you’ll have to learn how to fish quickly to provide for yourself. There’s no more water either, so you’ll just… dehydrate in three days and end up dying that way.

You suppose that it’s better than burning alive.

Then again, the forcefield--which is in the shape of a dome this year--is falling apart everywhere. The chances of one of those hexagons breaking off and landing in the cornucopia or around it in the water is a pretty good chance.

So basically, you’re fucked no matter how this goes.

“This was your plan the entire fucking time? You split Katniss and I up for what?!” The yelling is coming from Peeta, which is a little surprising. You never thought that he would be the one to yell at anyone. With how… soft he was, and how he just took all the shit you dished, he looked like the type to take and not give.

You slowly creep through the trees, not entirely sure if it’s worth walking into. You’re not even there just yet and you can feel all sorts of anger and insanity radiating off of Peeta. And knowing you right now, it’s not going to be a fun mix.

Because it’s his fucking fault that you’re still in here. It’s all their faults for fucking up the games and making an escape plan. Had everything just gone normal, you would have won and ended up back at your victor home. There would be no revolution, it would have been peace by now.

But no--Katniss and Peeta do something rebellious in their games. They get publicity for it, praised for it, and even get people on their side for it. Katniss has got a whole crowd of people willing to throw themselves away for her cause. And not only does she not know the amount of power she has, she doesn’t care.

So her fucking mentor--or her tribute ‘friends’--had to make a plan for her, since she’s so incapable of doing whatever they were originally planning. Then Finnick turns out to be your soulmate, and suddenly you’re tangled in this fucking shitstorm of a plan.

And after everything that you had been through, they leave you in here. Finnick left you in here.

You head forward through the trees, not really caring if Peeta or Johanna turn on you. You plan to go right past them and straight down the hill towards the water. But the second that you step on a stick and it snaps, Peeta whips around as if you just insulted his family.

“You.”

You bite your tongue, keeping your eyes straight as you try to walk past him. Peeta’s not having it, and the second you’re in arm range, he reaches over, grabs you and yanks you face to face with him. There’s only an inch of space between you two, and he’s got a tight grip on your upper arm.

“Get the fuck off me.” you try to pry his fingers off, but his grip only tightens.

“Where is she?”

“Fuck if I know.” You grab his wrist, your eyes flicker to Johanna.

For once, she looks worried for you. She shakes her head lightly, as some sort of warning. Her axe is held loosely in her hands, and she doesn’t make any move to tighten it. All she does is stare.

“You were the last one with her.” Peeta says, “Where is she?”

“I was with Finnick last.” you insist.

“Then where is he?”

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm, “Johanna, Katniss and I came down here together, which is when Johanna cut the tracker out of Katniss’ arm--”

“I’m not listening to this bullshit again!”

“--Brutus showed up, so Johanna and I went to kill him, we split up after that, and I found Finnick not too long after. He wanted me to stay with him but I came searching for you and Johanna to bring you back to the tree.”

“So they’re at the tree?” Peeta looks a little calmer.

“No, they’re gone.”

That seems to set off a switch in Peeta, and it’s only a second later when you realize your mistake in those words.

“They’re dead?”

“No--” you shake your head, “--I don’t know, actually.”

“Bring me to them.”

Peeta loosens his grip on your arm briefly, long enough for you to slip out, and then dodge his attempt at another grab, “I can’t--”

“Because they’re dead--”

“I don’t fucking know!” you shove Peeta to get him off of you, “I’m not their fucking gatekeeper, alright? I don’t know where the fuck they are or where they’re going. I saw a hovercraft show up--” and again, once those words are out of your mouth, you’re immediately in offense mode, “--if you so much as touch me, I’m going to rip your arm off.”

However, Peeta’s already heard everything he’s needed to hear. It’s like a written confession from you. You just admitted to it all in his mind. It might have been in bits and pieces, but they fit together well enough. Just enough to justify him coming at you.

“You fucking killed them!” he starts towards you.

“Peeta--” Johanna tries sweetly.

“No! She just said that a hovercraft came and took their bodies!” you just barely get out of Peeta’s grasp, “She’s fucking dead.”

“I didn’t touch your fucking friends!” you duck.

“And yet you can’t tell me where they are and how they’re doing?” Peeta pauses for a moment, “You’re not a very good liar.”

“Because I’m not fucking lying!” you yell, “If you’d just--”

You back into a rock, making you topple over it. You just barely scramble back to your feet, but Peeta’s basically on top of you after that. And with the amount of adrenaline running through you--because he is going to kill you, it says it all in his eyes--you swing.

Your knuckles barely catch his jaw, since you’re still trying to keep a distance from him, but it makes him stumble away for a second. You cradle your hand, the pain blossoming over your knuckles. You shake it for a moment, keeping an eye on your favorite dickhead while he tries to recover.

It felt good to get that out of your system, to finally hit the fucker. After having Finnick and Katniss watching you like hawks, making sure you don’t even twitch. But now his guard dogs aren’t here, it’s just him and you. If you wanted to kill him now, no one could stop you.

Not even little Johanna off to the side.

A smile hints at your lips.

“You have wanted to kill us the entire time, and you’re telling me it’s bullshit?” Peeta asks, there’s a red fist mark on his cheek.

“Or what if I’m not?” you smile a little bit, wondering if he’ll take the bait.

It works like a charm, because the second he lurches forward again, you swing your fist for a second time. And since he was much closer, he hits the dirt, landing on his side. You hover over him, staring down at him.

“Pathetic.” he says, “If you thought for one second--”

You swing your foot straight into his stomach.

“(Y/n)--” Johanna starts forward now, --(Y/n), that’s enough!”

“No.” you snarl, bringing your foot back and slamming it straight into Peeta’s ribs this time. It’s much harder this time around, and you can tell by the way he groans and curls in on himself.

You smile, but it fades a little when Johanna looks like she’s ready to take you down. Instead of backing up and being defensive, you head straight in. She does the same, as if she wants to play chicken, but you’re not one to back down from a fight. Especially not one you’ve been itching to have.

It’s one punch to her jaw, and she’s unconscious. Her body lands on the dirt, but her head hits a rock. You don’t care all that much, she can bleed to death and get brain damage for all you care. It’s what she deserves for running her mouth all the time. It’s all about that sweet fucking karma.

You turn back to Peeta, who’s staring at you with slightly widened eyes. You give him a pretty smile, crouching down and tilting your head, “Not so brave now, are you?”

You stand, swinging your foot into his stomach, “It’s funny how Katniss, Finnick and Beetee were brought out of the arena but not us, huh?” you circle Peeta, giving a tough smile when you kick his back, “It’s like we’re a bunch of fucking rejects. But in my opinion, they made a huge fucking mistake leaving me down here with you.

“Don’t get me wrong, I would kill to get my hands on that fucking princess, to have her wallowing in pain on the ground while I beat her to near death. But you are almost better. Want to know why?” you stand over Peeta, and then you kick him onto his back. You kneel down, placing one of your knees on his chest, “Because no one cares about you. Johanna didn’t even step in until my second kick--and look at the fight she put up.”

You jab your thumb in the direction of her bleeding body, “You’re so useless to the others, that I could probably kill you, and they’d thank me for it.” you reach into your boot, pulling out the pocketknife and flicking it open, “I’d ask you if you test and see, but you know, you’d be dead.

You get to your feet slowly, “I think I’ll draw out the pain a little longer. Cause this is the only shot that I’m really going to get at some fun.” you laugh, “And to think that this all could have been avoided if you had just listened to me for a second, instead of calling me a liar.”

“I’m sorry--”

“Don’t start begging for your life now.” you make a pouty face, tilting your head at him, “The fun’s just getting started.”

Just as you go to continue what you were doing before Johanna had stepped in, the familiar sound of an engine makes you look straight up. You place your hand over your eyes, squinting through the sunlight. For a second, you’re hopeful again.

Then the peacekeepers are sent down.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter ten 1/2

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