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casperslibrary · 6 months ago

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{Finnick Odair x Reader} To Survive The Ocean, First You Must Swim- CHAPTER SIX

[“Hey, I’m Thalia.” She holds out her hand, obviously expecting me to shake it. I only look and stare but Emery gladly takes my place and gives her a handshake. Of course he does, why wouldn’t he want to shake the hand of someone that will be trying to kill us in under a week? This is why I volunteered, he's too kind for these games.]

A/N: WARNING: there will be a memory of the mc trying to drown herself, if you don’t want to read that, skip the paragraph in italics.

Anyways I really love this chapter! It’s really cute, but also a little sad, but that's what makes it fun! Also they're moving pretty fast, but I’m just trying to build up a relationship before she enters the arena, once she does things will probably start to slow down. Anyways Happy Holidays!

Chapter five | all chapters

Today is the first day of training. During breakfast, Finnick questions us about what we’re good at.

“Both of us can tie knots and make nets, though I’m better with knives since I fillet the fish, and I’m pretty good at throwing them as well. My father taught me for self defense after my sister's game. Emery on the other hand is far better with a trident than I am, since he actually does the fishing.”

I think back to those moments of learning with my dad, it was in the second week of Cornelia being in the arena. She had managed to get her hands on a knife but was far less skilled with it than she would have been with a trident. I think that pushed him to teach me as much as he could, waking me up at six am and forcing me to throw knives at makeshift targets. While the practice was grueling, I loved the time we spent together.

Finnick nods, and Emery stays silent. He can tell there's something different between Finnick and I then there was before, I no longer lace my words with venom or my gaze with hate. If Emery questions me on it though, I’ll just say I’m being nice because he’s our mentor. I have no energy for another argument and I’m not planning on talking about our time on the roof last night, that moment will forever just stay with Finnick and I only. Sure the game makers probably saw us up there; but it was especially windy yesterday and I doubt they were able to hear what we were saying.

Finnick tells us to focus on learning survival skills, snares, different plants and their effect, knowledge that could be the difference between life or death. Listening intently I stuff my mouth, while the food is much better here than at district four, my appetite is not the reason for my two massive portions of breakfast. Carbo loading is a necessity considering the fact that I don’t know when the next time I will eat after the beginning of next week.

“Knives are the most common weapon found in the arena; so it's always beneficial to train with them. Though if it's something you’re already particularly good at, I would recommend focusing on other areas as to not let the other tributes know of your advantage. Emery however, I want you to practice with knives more, at least until you have some basic foundation of the skill. Besides from that, learn survival competence that you may have not picked up in district four. While our district is at an advantage by being better fed and therefore stronger, districts like eleven and twelve know how to starve. Consequently, they know how to survive. This knowledge will be imperative in the games.”

We go down to the training level, and I finally have the time to take in the other tributes. Most of them are either older or younger than us. I notice one girl in particular, probably only fourteen years old at most, with the number eleven pinned on her back. She has blonde hair, blue eyes, and is quite skinny as well. I feel bad for her, but try not to, while I am prone to caring about those who are weaker than me, it is not a good habit for the games. Both of the tributes from one are eighteen, and admittedly quite scary looking. From district two there is a seventeen year old boy and an eighteen year old girl. I don’t pay as much attention to the other tributes, it is quite apparent these four will be our biggest threat. While it is not uncommon for tributes from four to ally with the primed - a name we have for tributes in the first to districts who train and volunteer - Emery is quite frail and undaunting so I doubt they’d want him, and I don’t plan on allying with the volunteers, it's too risky. The primed want to win, and they know that to win you have to be the only one alive. In these games you can’t be the second person to betray your group.

After being dismissed by Atala, Emery and I alternate between stations until we find ourselves sitting next to the girl from eleven while learning about plants. The trainer tells us about leaves that can help wounds, and what to look out for while picking berries to eat. The girl from eleven answers the trainers questions with ease, and it is clear she already has quite a bit of knowledge in this area. Unsurprising really, as she is from the district of agriculture. What is surprising is her turning around and talking to me.

“Hey, I’m Thalia.” She holds out her hand, obviously expecting me to shake it. I only look and stare but Emery gladly takes my place and gives her a handshake. Of course he does, why wouldn’t he want to shake the hand of someone that will be trying to kill us in under a week? This is why I volunteered, he's too kind for these games.

“My name's Emery.” Emery tells her my name as well when her eyes fall on me. From my glare she can tell I’m not too fond of her though.

“No need to be suspicious, I was just curious as to why you volunteered, you don’t look like a career.” Career? That must be what they call the primed in the lower districts.

“I volunteered to join Emery.” Is all I say, purposefully not using the word ‘protect’, all that will do is highlight him as an easy target. But I tell she is able to read between the lines of my words, I mean he doesn’t exactly look like the next victor of the hunger games.

“That’s really selfless of you.” She gives me a smile, one that reminds me of my sister. Cornelia was about the same age entering the games, and I wonder if Thalia has any siblings at home hoping that against all odds, she’ll make it.

“Good luck, I mean it. I’d much rather one of you two winning than the careers.”

Thalia says before walking off.

“Shame, she’s not even hoping to win.” Emery quietly speaks.

“Yeah, I just hope whoever kills her makes it quick.”

The rest of the training for the first day is, admittedly, quite uneventful. I try to teach Emery some knife skills, and while he starts to pick it up eventually I doubt he’ll be able to hit a moving target, not to mention in the games he’ll be shaky, scared, and disoriented.

Though I can’t say much, because at least Emery was doing better with the knives than I am with a trident. It’s too heavy and in the way, and I can barely move with it without hitting someone - usually Emery. After accidentally striking him on the head for possibly the third time, we decide to call it quits for the day, dinner is in half an hour, and most people have already left.

During dinner Finnick isn’t his usual, easy going self. We eat in silence but even after I finished my third helping (still trying to carbo load as much as possible) he still doesn’t leave the table. What little food he has left on his plate has gone cold and it’s almost as if he was trying to prolong the evening, almost as if he were trying to stop the night from coming.

It is only when everyone else leaves the table that I realise the likely reason why. I rise from my seat and move to where Sona was sitting, next to him. His eyes don’t diverge from his plate though, and it seemed like he was trying his best not to look at me. Not knowing what to say, my hand almost moves to touch him, but I realise he might not want to be touched. While he seemed fine with me hugging him yesterday, it’s probably best not to assume.

After a few moments of silence between the two of us coinciding with internal conflict, I finally decide to ask him, though only pushing the boundaries to hand holding.

“Can I hold your hand?”

He looks up from his plate and into my eyes for a moment before nodding. I take his hand into mine and squeeze it, just as Emery does when I feel nervous. We sit for a moment, hand in hand, while I try to come up with a better solution to comfort him. Whenever I feel sad or upset, people always comfort me through physical touch. That's how my sister and dad aided my pain, and since Emery was always around he quickly picked up on that and did the same. Though because it was always affection that made me feel better, I never learnt what to do when the person might not want to be overly touched. Thinking back to last night, hoping it will shine a light on what to do, I remember him tying knots in the lounge, it seemed to help him calm down.

“Could you teach me how to tie knots? I know the basic ones but it's been a while since I’ve been on net duty.”

That wasn’t actually true, making nets and tying knots on the boat before it leaves is one of the few things I can actually do without touching water, so I am given net duty a lot. He pauses for a second, and I almost think he realises I’m bluffing, but then a small smile touches his face.

“Sure.”

Grabbing a knife, he takes me to his room and pulls out a long piece of rope before cutting it in two.

We spend the next few hours in his room, at first I have to feign my lack of knowledge, at some point he starts to teach me more advanced ones and I actually find myself learning.

“Here let me show you,” He laughs and takes one that I was particularly struggling with, but then looks at it confused.

“How did you… I didn’t even think it was possible for someone to mess this up so badly! This looks like a wasp's nest!”

I can’t stop myself from going into a hysteric fit of laughter before snatching the rope from him the moment he untangles it.

“Let me try again!” I say and start focusing on doing exactly what he told me to do, but I’m distracted when I hear him laugh again.

“What!”

“That face you make when you’re concentrated,” he says in between laughs, “How do you not swallow a fly when you stick your tongue out like that?”

My mouth opens widely and I exaggerate my offense to his comment.

“I'm out!” I throw the rope across the room.

“No! don't leave, it's cute!” He laughs and all I can do is laugh in return while picking up my rope from the floor.

We continue laughing and tying knots. At some point I consider asking him about himself, but I know he’ll probably have to bring up home and I don’t want to talk about that right now. Suddenly he checks the clock and his face becomes dimmer, but he recomposes himself so quickly I consider that I might have imagined it.

“You should probably go back to your room, it's getting late.”

I check the time, 11:23 pm. I suppose he’s right, though he didn’t seem to have any reservations about me being up late last night. I choose to not question it though and smile at him before getting up.

“Goodnight Finnick.” I say while trying to muster up the most comforting tone I can, but while that was something my mom and sister excelled at it wasn't exactly my area of expertise. Still, he rewards my efforts with a smile.

“Goodnight, Bugs.”

Just like that, I leave. Stripping off my clothes so that I am just in my underwear and sleeping bra, I lay in my bed trying to get some sleep.

I am falling, I am falling and there seems to be no end, until there is. Water comes crashing over me all too quickly, and suddenly I am being pushed and pulled and spun around without even being able to tell which way is up. A particularly large wave pushes me into the side of the cliff and-

“Bugs! Bugs! Wake up!” I gasp for air as Finnick shakes me awake.

“What…” I lose my words while trying to regain my mind, “What happened?”

Finnick sighs of relief as I calm down. “You were screaming, I came in to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh.” The clock on my bedside table reads 4:37 am. I choose not to think about why Finnick is awake at this time of night, nor why he is in day clothes instead of pajamas.

“Nightmares?”

I simply nod, he gives me a knowing look, and I can imagine he gets them as well.

“Is there anything you can do that helps it?”

“Emery spends the night at my house often, if I get nightmares while he is around, he’ll hold until I fall asleep again. It helps.” I sigh before continuing. “But I can’t wake up him at his time of night, it's unfair to him.”

Finnick looks down at the ground for a moment, then returns his eyes to me.

“If you want, and if it would help, I can sleep here tonight.”

I feel guilty for the relief that washes over me, I could imagine that right now all he would want is to sleep in his own bed, by himself. But I don’t want to be alone tonight, I won’t be able to sleep knowing what awaits me in my dreams. So, selfishly, I accept his offer.

“That would be… that would be really helpful, thank you.”

Finnick takes off his jeans and coat, leaving him in just his boxer shorts and shirt. Quickly, I look away. I know that all he is doing is trying to get comfortable enough to sleep, but I can’t help but feel flustered anyways.

Finnick slowly climbs into the bed with me, giving a cautious look as if I am the one at risk of being uncomfortable and not him. Tentatively, his arms wrap around me. We don’t say anything; though as time goes on I feel his hold on me get tighter, but never tight enough for me to actually find it uncomfortable. For some reason, this feels better than when Emery holds me, even though Em has been my crush for God knows how long. Yet being here with Finnick, it feels good. It feels right. Though suddenly, I come to the dumbfounding realisation that I am in bed with Finnick, in my underwear, and he is HOLDING ME. Wasn’t it just a few days ago when I despised his guts? Though if I knew what I know about him now back then, I doubt I would have. I find myself wondering, did I ever really hate him? Or did I just tell myself I hated him because it was easier than knowing my sister was destined to die from the moment Sona picked her name, and there was nothing that could have been done to stop it. Either way, the answer eludes me as I very quickly drift off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #fanfic #hunger games #finnick imagine #finnick odair x you #finnick x you #hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fanfiction

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casperslibrary · 6 months ago

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To Survive The Ocean, First You Must Swim - MASTERLIST

[After losing her sister to the games and her father to the ocean, her best friend (and supposed love of her life) Emery saves her. Now, as they go into the hunger games together, she is determined to do whatever it takes to save him. But when her mentor ends up being a man she has learnt to hate, she can't help but be frustrated, especially when she realises how little she really hates him, and how much she actually needs him.]

Please let me know if any of the links aren't working!

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five - Finnick's POV

#casperslibrary #masterlist #finnick imagine #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #finnick x you #finnick odair x reader

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casperslibrary · 6 months ago

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{Finnick Odair x Reader} To Survive The Ocean, First You Must Swim- CHAPTER FIVE - Finnicks POV

A/N: there may be minor inaccuracies throughout the story as it’s been a hot minute since i’ve read the hunger games. Anyways I had more fun writing Finnick's POV than expected, though if you couldn’t tell it was quite hard to leave the MC nameless and lacking any distinct physical attributes. Also I’m sorry that all of the povs are in first person- but it's easier dialogue wise when trying to make the mc lack a name. Btw I plan on making a masterlist when I have the time + once I get my Ao3 invitation I’ll also upload my fic on there! I need filler chapters so my inbox is always open for suggestions! Anyways this chapter superrrrrr long lmao

chapter four | all chapters

[Finnick POV]

As the tributes ride the chariots I am driven to the training centre. Inside the car is a screen showing the parade.

“Our tributes look so good this year, don’t you think? Dara is so much better than who we used to have, you know the man whose only idea of style is being naked?” Sona says to me, and I nod in reply. Cornelia’s sister, who is known to me as Bugs due to Cornelia’s constant use of the nickname, smiles and waves with one hand and holds Emery with the other. As beautiful as she looks, the moment was tainted by her hand in Emery’s. I try not to think about it, instead focusing on her face, her smile, which suddenly falters. Turning her head she finds comfort in Emery. I frown, admittedly, I was jealous. After hearing Cornelia talk about her so much, it was hard for me to not think highly of her. And after I stuck to the promise of keeping an eye out on Bugs, I couldn’t help but start to notice things about her, things I never bothered to notice about anyone. The way she always stood her ground, and didn’t let anyone sway her. How she always stood up for the weak in school, even getting into a few fights with bullies. I chuckle as I remember her throwing a rock at Kim Lain. He was a dick - he deserved it. I noticed how strong she was, but also how caring, when she was thirteen she gave her lunch to a frail, younger girl who obviously hadn’t eaten in days, and started packing extra food for her everyday after that. I remember even the small things about Bugs, how she covers her mouth when laughing at things she probably shouldn’t laugh at. How she touches her hair when uncomfortable, or plays with her shirt while she’s waiting for the time to pass.

I should have gone up and talked to her earlier, I wish I did. Maybe if I had told her it was me who saved her life when she was fourteen we would have gotten closer, and she wouldn’t have been so eager to risk her life when Emery’s name was called. But I didn’t, I had only started selling my body just a few months earlier, and the last thing I needed was another person for Snow to threaten everytime I dared to diverge out of line. So I bit my tongue, watched her from afar, did my best to protect her just as promised, and look where that got us. For fuck sakes I even slept with a worker to keep her name out of the bowl, and she still managed to end up being a tribute.

I briefly consider trying to convince the game makers to kill off Emery, that way she’ll have to at least try to win, but I know I could never do that. I groan and Sona gives me a confused look, but I pay her no mind. She puts a hand up to my shoulder, though I immediately recoil. Sona says no words as she moves her hand away, knowing the cause for my discomfort. She may have been very illusioned by her upbringing in the Capitol, but even she has the heart to know rape is wrong. Sona has a kind soul, and I can imagine in a world where there were no games, no propaganda, she and I could really be close friends. But right now, we don’t exactly see eye to eye on the whole ‘radical take’ that killing children is wrong. But I know that someday she’ll see it. Every year her excitement for the games gets more and more dull, every year her voice gets dimmer reading the names of the children that are to die. One day she will completely learn to hate the games; but I don't know if I want that for her. She’s already in too deep to leave. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

We get out of the car and enter the training centre, there aren’t any screens in the room we’re in, and I can’t help but be nervous with her out of my sight. I know it’s irrational; being a tribute is probably the safest position to be in up until you’re actually put in the arena, god forbid anything happens to the capital's precious props. But still, my nerves immediately calm down once I see her enter through the grand doors. Sona helps Bugs from the chariot before instantly pulling her into a hug, and I can’t help but laugh at the face she makes. After being released from Sona’s death grip, she turns to look at Emery, and I almost hate myself for the anger that begins to burn. A part of me wishes the roles were reversed, that I was the one she looked at with love and Emery was the one she looked at with spite. I knew she didn’t like me, and while it didn’t take a genius to figure out why, it still hurt. I really tried to make her at least warm up to me, I flirted with her and smiled at her in a way that made other girls melt. But alas, all it seemed to do was irritate her further, out of all the people to be resistant to my charm… Why her?

Her gaze on Emery doesn’t waver, and I can’t stop myself from standing in between them, forcing her to look at me and not him. Realising I need a reason for walking up, I simply congratulate her.

“Good job, princess.”

I know I should probably comment on Emery as well, but I can’t find it in me to care about anyone else. Not when she is standing right here.

We enter the crystal elevator and I can tell that Bugs is star-struck by the view. While I have gotten used to the ride, I think back to the first time I was here, and chuckle as I realise that her sister did the exact same thing. Of course, her sister never even came close to captivating my attention as much as she does. Sona makes some stupid comment on pearls, one that seemed awfully familiar, and Bugs laughs when I tell her the connection.

She laughed.

I told her something, and not only did it not aggravate her, but it actually made her laugh.

Before, the best expression she would give me was a glare, or an eye roll, and even then I was still hooked. But now, I know what it’s like to bring her joy, and holy shit it's addicting.

Fuck, if I wasn’t in deep before, I certainly am now.

Entering our floor, Bugs quickly goes to her room but Emery hangs around. He shoots me a look, and, as little as I am in the mood for it, I put on my fake face; feigning a calm, unaffected composure.

“Yes, Em?” I purposefully use the nickname Bugs calls him. Apparently that was the wrong move.

“She doesn’t need you, you know. She has me.” Insecure much? Although I couldn’t really blame him, it was only moments ago that I felt the euphoria of her joy being directed towards me. If I had constant access to it, I wouldn’t be so quick to let it go either.

“Quite the contrary actually, you need her. She knows it as well considering that was the whole reason she volunteered. Now if I were you, I would consider not picking a fight with me, since we both know that I am the only source of help either of you are going to get in these games.” I walk off, but couldn’t help adding one last comment as I do so. “And by the way, she does need me. That’s how mentoring in these games works.”

I added almost gleefully on the end, the notion of her needing me brought me far greater joy than it should have. Though, in any other circumstances maybe I’d be able to appreciate it more without the sinking feeling of guilt, and more so, the dread of what's to come in these next few weeks.

Emery huffs past me and I retreat to my room. Quite a familiar one at that, when I am brought to the capital throughout the year this tends to be where I stay. Though in all my time staying here, I have never found myself leaving and slowly drifting towards the quarters for the female tribute. But when I hear screaming, you wouldn’t exactly call the way I moved slow. I run so fast I knock over a decorative plant right outside, though as I am about to barge through the door I stop when I hear what they’re yelling about. Me.

Suddenly feeling the sinful urge to eavesdrop, I hope that Bugs didn’t hear the vase fall. Though it appears she doesn’t, as she continues what she’s saying without faltering.

“I’m sorry Em… Finnick… he means nothing to me. I do admit I don’t feel as much hatred as I once did for him, but still, I am with you. Forever and always.”

Nothing? Ouch. That one hurt - much more than it should have. There is a whisper I can’t make out before Emery starts speaking.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that… I just can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

There is a pause before he continues.

“Remember when Finnick won the 65th? How you went on an endless spiral about how it should have been him that was killed and not your sister… I agree with what you said, your sister should have won.”

A knife is shot through my chest. Actually, coming from someone who has been stabbed, it’s worse than that. In fact I’d rather be back in the arena right now than be here listening to this unendurable conversation. But as much as I try, my legs can’t seem to move.

“Do you think so?” Emery says.

“Yes. Finnick should have died, my sister should have lived.”

I don’t know why it hurts so bad… it shouldn’t hurt this bad. Loads of people have wanted me dead, it was only four years ago when I was put in an arena with twenty-three of them. But hearing this come from her… the girl I care about far too much, the only girl whom I can find it in me to care about… only person for that matter… It's far too much to bear. My knees hit the floor and I sit against the wall for God knows how long. Hours maybe.

Replaying all the memories I have of her over these past few years, I try to find something - anything - that might make me like her less. That could take away this unbearable pain caused by something so small as her words.

Nothing.

There is not one single fucking thing that I do not simply adore about her.

I am only pulled out of my thoughts when Emery opens the door. Quickly trying to come up with an explanation as to what I am doing outside of Bugs room I look up to his face and realise;

He’s not surprised… he knew I was out there this whole time. Bugs may not have heard me knock over that vase but he did. The fucker knew. Emery walks past me saying nothing, but with his smug expression he didn’t need to. That’s why he reminded her of why she hates me… to make sure she doesn’t stop. That’s why he asked her if she still wishes I were dead; to make sure I know that her heart will always belong to him, and never me.

I’ve got to admit, what Emery lacks in physical strength he sure makes up for in manipulative skills. Wasn’t he supposed to be nice? Kind hearted? I suppose the games do affect all of us in the worst ways, especially when someone you love is on the line.

Though whatever the reason for making her say what she did, didn’t change how much her words hurt. Emery was right. He will always be the boy she needs, and I will always be the boy she hates. It killed me to know this, and it killed me to know that even with this knowledge, my feelings for her could never leave. Even after she dies in these games, my heart will still be with her long after she’s gone. Not with me, not with any of my numerous admirers, with her, in her grave.

Slowly, I force myself to get up, and in my room I am almost grateful to hear the phone ring, its shrill noise drowning out my thoughts. Though I quickly realise there is only one person who could be calling this time of night.

“Hello Snow.” I whisper into the landline, trying my best to not show any pain in my voice. Although I am only half paying attention to him as he speaks, my stomach still drops at his words. Tomorrow night I am to meet with a frequenter. He almost makes it out as him doing me a favour. That because it would be so late that none of my mentees would see me leave, and because this particular customer is a valuable sponsor, I should be grateful for him setting this nightmare. I can barely hide the venom on my tongue as I respond to him before hanging up. He is… somewhat right though, this specific guest is in fact a very rich and (if under the right circumstances) very generous sponsor. The fact that this arrangement will benefit Bugs makes me feel a bit better, but only barely.

Grabbing a rope I head into the lounge area where I pour myself a glass of whiskey. I alternate between drinking the neat drink and creating knots in the rope. Though while this usually efficient routine of tying knots helped me forget about what was coming tomorrow, it barely distracted me from my thoughts about Bugs. And after about an hour of this, whatever cruel deity that controlled our reality decided to take it further by presenting me with all that I want, but can’t have, in the flesh. Hearing a step I turn around to see her staring at me, my beautiful curse as perfect as ever.

“Hey princess.” I try to sound lighthearted, but fail miserably. Bugs doesn’t move, but needing her closer, I motion her to sit next to me.

“I don’t bite.” She obviously is still put off by my presence, I try to come up with a way to calm her, and think back to her excitement of the city view in the clear elevator.

“Actually, I know a better place to go to.” I get up and offer her my hand, and when she gives me hers a fire rushes through me that cannot be extinguished. Now I understand why girls get almost delirious when I get close to them, I think I could pass out at any moment.

I take her to the elevator, and up the stairs, not letting her go for even a second, as if the moment my hand leaves hers it will never find its way back. It pains me to know this is probably true. But when Bug's hand finally escapes my firm grasp, she makes up for it with the expression on her face. As I stare at her face, dazed by the scenery, I can’t help but think back to her sister doing the exact same thing years ago. Though in all honesty I appreciate the look of joy far more on Bugs face.

The wind starts to pick up, and she shivers. I take in her satin pajamas, they are quite skimpy, surely not able to give her any resistance against the cool of the night. Holding out my sweater, I offer it to her.

“Here.”

“Aren’t you going to be cold?”

I smile and slightly shake my head. Being cold can not even be considered a price to pay for her being comfortable, and besides, her satin shirt is extremely low cut and I feel guilty for looking, the sweater will at least provide some coverage.

“Just take it”

Okay… so maybe I misjudged the idea of more clothing preventing my sinful thoughts. Because as she wears my sweater, I find myself only more turned on. I try to keep my expression neutral as she thanks me - however I'm honestly lucky to not be quite literally drooling at the mouth right now. Though I try my best to push those thoughts away, to be thinking this way of her when she so clearly does not like me… how could I ever consider myself better than my capital admirers?

Bugs stares at the city lights, and they radiate back onto her perfect face. God I could spend the rest of my life like this, just staring at her, but the voice that’s been taunting me since the moment she was reaped speaks up even louder. ‘This will be one of the last times you get to look at her, before she dies, before she voluntarily kills herself.’

I feel my legs start to shake again, my hands as well. I quickly regret leaving my rope in the lounge area. I can’t let her die, I would rather go into the games myself than let her go. There's got to be some way to change her mind? I won’t stop trying to save her, I can’t. I could imagine that even when her heart stops beating I’ll still be fighting for her life. The possibility of her dying, it just seems so unreal to me, it’s a thought so horrid I cannot even process it.

“Are you really planning on just killing yourself?” But once that question leaves my mouth I quickly talk again because even though I know the answer, I don’t think I can handle it.

“You shouldn’t have volunteered.”

“Thank you for the great suggestion, Sherlock, do you also have a time machine on you by any chance? Or just your insightful words?”

I laugh and shake my head, the spite in her voice is one I’m used to, and I’m almost unphased by it. But then I remember why she hates me so much. Her sister. If I could bring Cornelia up, explain to Bugs the reason why I first fought for her in the first place, before I fell for her, maybe she’d change her mind? If not for me then for her sister.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean she told me to protect you, and you sure are making it a hard job.”

“Who did?”

“Your sister, of course.”

Her confusion is evident, so I continue. Thinking back to this night four years ago as I do.

“Four years ago, her and I were on this exact same roof. All she did was speak of you - I think it must have hurt too much to talk about anything else - anyways she made me promise that if I got out and not her, I would protect you.” I still remember Cornelia’s voice as if it were yesterday.

“I know you’ll win, Finnick, and I am okay with that. Just please promise me one thing, when you get back, protect Bugs. She is so brave, so strong, so kind, and I know that when you meet her you’ll feel the same. My sister is my everything, so promise, just promise me, you’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“Of course I tried my best, when you somehow managed to almost kill yourself, I pulled you out of the water. When you were too scared of swimming to even touch a fishing boat, I… convinced Julia to allow you to only work on land.”

Thinking back to those moments I start to wonder; at what point did I stop protecting Bugs for Cornelia, and instead started protecting her for my own sake? I remember how much it killed me two years ago to find out Bugs tried to kill herself, so it must have been a while. Still I can picture the moment she jumped off that cliff. Although there was a storm and I could have very likely died pulling her out, I didn’t think twice about jumping in after her, though by the time I grabbed her she had already managed to knock herself out. I was so scared that she managed to successfully kill herself. I pinched her cheek on shore, and went in to a hysteric fit of laughter after she groaned in response, probably due to relief rather than there being any actual humour of it all.

When recounting my list of things I have done for her, I purposefully leave out the part where I slept with a worker to get her name out of the reaping bowl. She probably already thinks I’m a whore, and I don’t want to confirm her suspicions. ‘Tomorrow night, 12 am.’ Snow’s voice rings in my mind, and I so desperately want to get it off my chest. Part of me is so ashamed, so scared of what she’ll think of me, but another part of me just wants to let her know that I’m not the slut she thinks I am, at least not willingly. That I don’t want to sleep with the capital girls, or boys for that matter. I know what other people in my district say about me, and I need to show her that they’re wrong. I’m not the person they think I am. The person that she thinks I am.

“I know you hate me, Bugs, and you probably think I’m a whore. I can’t do anything about the hating part but I’m not… a whore. At least not a willing one.”

The words start to spill out before I can stop myself.

“Snow forced me, when a victor is considered desirable, he sells them for their bodies. I don’t get money for my time, I don’t need it, but I do get secrets, sponsorships, favors.”

Bugs stares at me for a second, the shock speaks for itself. Fuck she must think I’m some weak loser. That I won the hunger games with my face and now I open my legs for anybo-

She’s hugging me.

That familiar fire burns through and only brightens when I hug her back. Suddenly, just by holding her, everything is okay. I know nothing has actually gotten better, but just being here, with her, she makes it better. I hold onto her as though if I cling on tight enough, she won’t have to leave, she won’t have to go into the games, I won’t have to lose her. I don’t think of what's to come, I can’t think of it. I can’t lose her. I won’t. I may be selfish, but I won’t let it happen. Bugs is staying alive.

“I’m sorry.” I can barely hear her murmur in my chest, and it all starts pouring out.

“Your sister was brave, you resemble her. I’m sorry she died, I’m sorry I had a part to play in her death. I know you might hate me for it, but please remember I was just a kid, a kid trying to survive. And just because you don’t know my life doesn't make it worth any less.”

And then she does the least expected thing she possibly could have, she starts apologising. I don’t know why, I should be the one apologising to her, begging for her forgiveness and pleading for her to smile at me again, just as she did on the elevator.

“It hurt so much, I was so angry at myself, at everything. Blaming you made it easier. I’m sorry, Finnick.”

Finnick. This must have been the first time I’ve ever heard her say my name, to my face at least. I look back on earlier, when I called her my curse. She may very well be a curse, giving me the most joy I’ve ever felt all while planning on ripping it away in just a couple of weeks. But I don’t care anymore, whatever pain has been caused by her, her wanting me dead, trying to drown herself, loving another man, planning to die in the arena. It all hurts so bad, but it is nothing compared to how much I care about her, how much her simple presence lights up my life and turns my world upside down in all the right ways. Fuck, I must be a masochist for this, but I wouldn’t trade her, or any emotions that caused by her, for the world. And as Bugs whispers my name, I almost automatically say hers in return, her real name.

I am not letting you die.

#fanfic #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x y/n #hunger games finnick #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x reader #hunger games #thg #thg series #x reader #reader insert #fem reader

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casperslibrary · 6 months ago

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{Finnick Odair x Reader} To Survive The Ocean, First You Must Swim- CHAPTER FOUR

After losing her sister to the games and her father to the ocean, her best friend (and supposed love of her life) Emery saves her. Now, as they go into the hunger games together, she is determined to do whatever it takes to save him. But when her mentor ends up being a man she has learnt to hate, she can't help but be frustrated, especially when she realises how little she really hates him, and how much she actually needs him.

A/N: there may be minor inaccuracies throughout the story as it’s been a hot minute since i’ve read the hunger games. Anyways things are FINALLY moving along, this will be a bit of a slow burn it won’t be one of those “50 chapters until they even kiss” type thing. Anyways Finnick's POV is next! I’ve already written it, I just need to edit it a little. Trust me when I say you guys are going to both cry over it and love it!

chapter three | chapter five - finnicks pov | all chapters

When I wake up, I’m all alone. It is sometime at night and in the dark I barely catch myself after tripping over a fallen flower vase in the hallway. Huh. Emery must have knocked it over on his way back to his own quarters. I go to the lounge area expecting to be the only one there, but am surprised to see Finnick sitting on the couch, a glass of brown liquid in his hand looking almost identical to Hadleys.

Finnick’s expression is solemn, the city lights shine through the window scarcely illuminating his face. It was obvious he hasn’t noticed me yet, taking a sip of the drink before putting it down, tying and untying knots in a short piece of rope. That playful expression that once adorned his face is gone, and replacing it, appears to be both equal parts worry and sorrow. In all honesty, as much as I thought I hated his arrogant grin I much prefer it to his expression now. I take another step forward, and his face shoots in my direction, his shoulders slump when he realises it's just me.

“Hey princess.” Finnick remarks, but his tone is dry, pained even. He motions for me to sit next to him and when I simply stare at him awkwardly Finnick lets out a humourless laugh. “I don’t bite.” He pauses for a second, clearly in thought. “Actually, I know a better place to go to.” He gets up and offers me his hand, and hesitantly I take it.

He smiles and takes us to the elevator, it leads him to the floor just above twelve where we then climb up a small flight of stairs. From there is a dome shaped room and when he opens it I realise we’re on the roof. He is still holding my hand, but I let go and walk to the edge of the building. As we look over the railing I can’t help but admire the beauty of the city, the kaleidoscopic lights shine bright even though it’s past midnight. In four, most people would be in bed by now.

Finnick and I say no words for what feels like an endless amount of time, but while my eyes are trained on the breathtaking sight, I feel his unwavering gaze on me. I guess I’m getting better at sensing when someones watching me, that will be useful less than a week from now.

The wind brushes past me, and I shiver, my satin pajamas providing little warmth. Finnick takes off his sweater and holds it out t0 me. Underneath is a short sleeve white shirt, one that cannot offer much warmth.

“Here.”

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” He smiles and slightly shakes his head.

“Just take it.”

I put it on, and suddenly I’m engulfed by his scent. The familiar smell of seasalt from home, its calming, as well as a slightly spicy cologne. Undoubtedly costing more than a month's worth of food.

“Thanks”

His expression is unreadable, and we go back to staring, I at the city lights, him at me.

“Are you really planning on just killing yourself?” His voice finally broke the silence. I do nothing but nod. I thought he knew this by now?

“You shouldn’t have volunteered.” He says quickly afterwards. So I’ve been told.

“Thank you for the great suggestion, Sherlock, do you also have a time machine on you by any chance? Or just your insightful words?” Spite laces my voice, but all he does is laugh and shake his head.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean she told me to protect you, and you sure are making it a hard job.”

“Who did?” Could it have been my mother? Emery's mom? Neither of those options make sense.

“Your sister, of course.”

What?

My confusion must have been evident on my face, because he continues.

“Four years ago, her and I were on this exact same roof. All she did was speak of you - I think it must have hurt too much to talk about anything else - anyways she made me promise that if I got out and not her, I would protect you.” He pauses, but I don’t say anything, partly from shock, partly because I don’t know what to say. He sighs.

I don’t even know how to process what he was saying. And in any case Julia, the head of fishing work, is a mean old witch. How was he even able to convince her?

“I know you hate me, Bugs, and you probably think I’m a whore. I can’t do anything about the hating part but I’m not… a whore. At least not a willing one.”

Bugs… a nickname Cornelia used for me when she was alive, he must have picked it up from her considering they apparently talked about me. But the part about being a whore… what? He takes a deep breath.

“Snow forced me, when a victor is considered desirable, he sells them for their bodies. I don’t get money for my time, I don’t need it, but I do get secrets, sponsorships, favors.”

Sells them? I could barely believe what he was saying, I might have not if I didn’t know that Snow was in fact that cruel. My stomach drops as I take it all in, and drops even further when I realise how he was most likely able to convince Julia. This whole time, people have been making remarks behind his back, saying he abandoned his district for capital girls, that he was a slut… and I was one of them, not one of the worse ones, but still. I don’t know what to say, there probably isn’t anything to say to make this better. So my legs move, and before I realise it, I am hugging Finnick Odair.

He wraps his arms around me, and holds me as if he would die if left his embrace.

“I’m sorry.” I murmur into his chest, but I’m not sure if can hear me.

My breath hitches, and for a moment my mind is filled with too many thoughts to bear. But staying in his arms, I nod. He was right, as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Tears well up in my eyes and I can’t stop them as they fall.

“It hurt so much, I was so angry at myself, at everything. Blaming you made it easier. I’m sorry, Finnick.”

He whispers my name, and it sounds like both a blessing and a curse.

#fanfic #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x y/n #hunger games finnick #thg fanfiction #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #angst #thg #the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games #finnick odair fanfic

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casperslibrary · 6 months ago

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{Finnick Odair x Reader} To Survive The Ocean, First You Must Swim- CHAPTER THREE

chapter two | chapter four | all chapters

The morning sun wakes all too early, I really should have closed my curtains last night. The time reads six o clock, and as I walk into the dining car of the train I realise that I am the first one up. Or so I thought. As I face the counter trying to figure out how to work the coffee machine, I feel a tall figure press himself behind me.

“Morning, sweetheart.” I push him off me, he laughs and apologies insincerely. He takes a sugar cube out from the sugar bowl beside me.

“Want one?” He says as he puts the sugar cube into his mouth, after chewing and swallowing it he continues.

“Technically these are supposed to go with tea, but your days are numbered, so I suggest you have as much as possible while you still can.”

I roll my eyes and walk away. My wish for coffee is long forgotten. Though as I sit on the couch, I am surprised to see Finnick bringing me a cup. I thank him and stare at the TV, watching reruns of yesterday's reaping. I am somewhat glad to see that it wasn’t obvious that I had been crying prior to boarding the train. Though what I found odd is that as we made our way to and onto the train, Finnicks gaze never diverged from me, not once. I chalk it down to him being surprised at the spectacle I made while volunteering earlier. Though I wish that I had sensed him staring in the moment, not being able to tell when someones watching you won’t fare well in the arena.

After the clock strikes seven, slowly people start entering the room. Avoxes set up breakfast, all while Finnick and I sit on the couch, not saying a word to each other. Around seven-thirty Emery and Sona enter the room, Hadley following shortly afterwards. Emery eyes the sight of Finnick and I sitting on the couch together, but I quickly get up and make my way to the dining table. Finnick following suit. Breakfast, which is a selection of bacon, eggs, toast, and hash browns, is over rather quickly. I don’t think any of us had much of an appetite.

“Exciting day!” Sona remarks as our train passes capital citizens, all of whom are waving at us and trying to get a glimpse of Finnick. He winks as one, and if possible she would have melted into a puddle on the spot. I raise a brow at him.

“Hey, I’m just helping you get sponsors.” He raises his hands into the air and walks away.

Getting off the train, I wear a green floral dress. Emery takes my hand and gives it a light squeeze as we walk into the giant building.

“Ow!” I grunt as one of my stylists rips another section of hair off my legs. In four it's not like we refuse to shave, but I never saw the point in it. Another stylist - in all honesty I didn't bother to remember any of their names - starts trimming my hair, “evening it out” as she said. I don't particularly care though, I just want to get my clothes back on.

My main stylist, Dara, enters. Her skin is slightly tinted pink and her pin straight hair is a more vivid shade. I recognise her from previous years, but I don’t remember her being our district's stylist last year. According to Dara, she used to work for seven, but got promoted. I think back to sevens costume last year, and sigh from relief as I remember the girl wasn’t stark naked. We talk as she dresses me, Dara is nice, but very obviously illusioned by the capitol.

Dara dresses me in a big poofy blue gown, though I don’t get to see myself until we’re about to leave. When I do get to look in the mirror, I’m taken aback. My eyes are decorated with blue and silver patterns all around, and the rest of my make up is simple, but stunning.

My dress however is the complete opposite of simple. The blue material shines along my torso and as it poofs out it cascades down into the shape of waves, white tinting the end resembling foam. Wow. I know that being a tribute in the hunger games is not exactly a good thing, but for the first time in a while, I feel beautiful. And as Dara and I enter the bottom level of the Remake Center, I know the others feel the same.

Sona squeals and hugs me, and I surprisingly don’t reel back in disgust. Finnick also stares, but I can only look at him for so long before I feel something weird in my stomach. Probably just yesterday's lamb I say to myself, makes sense considering it was the first time I’d ever had it. The only one who isn’t staring is Hadley, but in all fairness I don’t think that she even knows she exists right now. I think back to the train ride, did she ever actually say even one word during the duration of the whole journey? I mentally thank Finnick again for volunteering to be my mentor.

“Wow.” I turn around to see Emery, but am only given a few seconds to take him in before he pulls me into a warm embrace. From what I did see, his eye makeup had the same patterns, and his shirt and slacks, while less luxurious, followed the same colour pattern. The district one chariot leaves, and we quickly get ourselves into position. Just as three takes off Finnick comes up to us, standing on my side of the chariot.

“You look beautiful.” Is all he says before our ride starts to move. I was used to him flirting with me, but for some reason the way he talked this time was different. As Emery grips onto my hand for stability I realise why. Usually, when Finnick flirts with girls, it’s in a practised, composed, almost synthetic nature. But as he spoke to me just now… it sounded genuine.

Finnick Odair thinks I’m beautiful.

The idea admittedly made me giddy. Sure, I wasn’t exactly looking for his affection, but being called pretty by Panem’s most eligible bachelor wasn’t exactly an insult. We glide through the path, and people are actually cheering for us. I understand why, my dress was nothing short of marvelous. I’d have to thank Dara later. I look into the giant TV screen and realise, as the wind brushes past us, it actually looks like the waves on my gown are moving, rising and crashing just like the ones at home. As beautiful as it is I quickly feel homesick, and even sicker when I realise I never will see home again. I squeeze Emery’s hand even tighter, and he gives me a small smile, one he always uses to comfort me.

As I see his smile I am transported back, back to when I saw my sister cut to death on screen. We were watching together, and he very quickly held me in his arms. He never let go. Even hours later when I had no tears left to cry, and his shirt was wet from my sorrow, he still held onto me. And I held onto him as if he were my life line, because in that moment, he was. As frail as he was, he still managed to pick me up and carry me to my bed. Holding me and comforting me as I cried myself to sleep. And when the sun woke me up the next morning, he was still there, giving me that exact same smile, telling me how strong I am, how brave I am. And that was the day I fell in love with Emery Jones.

He is going home, he is going home for me.

All too quickly, we are whisked away into the training centre. I am again embraced by Sona, and then gushed at by our prep teams. I turn to look at Emery, finally taking the time to take him in. Even though he is skinny, he has always looked good. And not in a you’re my best friend and probably the love-of-my-life so I have to think you look good type of way but in a he is objectively attractive way. His dark hair is silky and his green eyes are neither too big nor too small. He has a sharp jawline and symmetrical face, and his nose is naturally the shape that people get plastic surgery for. My view of him is suddenly obstructed when Finnick steps in front of me.

“Good job, princess.” Is all he says, but I can’t help but wonder, he is technically Emery’s mentor, so why isn’t Finnick paying as much attention to him as he is to me? Whatever the case, I hope it doesn’t affect sponsorships in the arena.

As we enter the elevator that takes us to our floor, I can’t help but gawk as I look through the crystal windows. Wow. Finnick chuckles, but I pay him no mind. Sona tells us about how she was talking to potential sponsors about us, apparently what she said was that ‘We come from the ocean, just like pearls. And just like pearls we shine.’ Finnick whispers to me saying that she stole that line from her cousin Effie, who uses it every year for the tributes in district 12. I laugh slightly, how the hell did Effie get pearls from a coal mining district?

My laugh is short lived when I see Emery glaring at us, a hostility in his eyes that is rare to see. Sona pushes her white curls from her face as she leads us around our floor. I enter my quarters, and after getting changed and removing my makeup, I lie down to get some peace, and again I am disturbed by a knock. Do people have nowhere else to be? I shake my head and open the door, curious to see the intruder. Not even a day ago I would have automatically assumed it to be Emery, but recently we haven’t been talking much. Though I open the door, and there he stands, barging in. The fuck? Do I just have a sign on my door saying ‘Come in as you please! Mi casa es su casa!’

But before I can say anything, Emery, for the first time in our lives, talks to me with venom in his voice.

“What’s your deal? I thought you hated him? So why are you guys so chummy now?”

Huh? Finnick and I are chummy? From context I can tell that’s who he’s talking about, but God only knows what he’s talking about. My confused expression only seemed to aggravate him more.

“You’re supposed to be by my side! Not his!”

And just like that I snap.

“By your side? Fucking hell dude the only reason I’m here is because I’m by your side! If I wasn’t ‘by your side’ I would be at home right now safe and with my mother. I willingly signed up to my own slaughter to stay by your side! But no! I laughed with Finnick once and oh my lord, I sat next to him on the couch! So I must have abandoned you completely for him!” Emery's eyes widen, and his angry demeanor calms down. I sigh. Fighting is going to get us nowhere, and I understand why he attacked me. We’re about to get sent off to our deaths, and the last thing either of us want is to be alone.

“I’m sorry Em.” My hands cover my face. “Finnick… he means nothing to me. I do admit I don’t feel as much hatred as I once did for him, but still, I am with you. Forever and always.”

He apologises to me too, whispering my name as he steps closer to me.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that… I just can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Any anger that I had left dissipates. He smiles and looks at me.

“Remember when Finnick won the 65th? How you went on an endless spiral about how it should have been him that was killed and not your sister.”

I don’t know why he chose to bring this up, but I nod.

“I agree with what you said, your sister should have won.”

As he says this a sharp pain enters me, but I realise, he was right. Finnick lived and my sister died. She made it to the top three, but Finnick set traps with hand-woven nets. She found herself in one of those nets, and while Finnick wasn’t the one to kill her, it was his nets that left her like a sitting duck for that district one boy to come along and slit her throat. Finnick killed him shortly after (and by doing so won the games) but the damage was already done. Finnick Odair is the reason why my sister is dead. I may have momentarily forgotten it, but it is still true.

“Do you think so?” Emery says.

“Yes. Finnick should have died, my sister should have lived.”

I feel tears fall from my eyes, and Emery wipes them from my face, holding me like he did all those years ago.

#finnick odair #fanfic #thg fanfiction #hunger games finnick #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x you #finnick odair x y/n #finnick x y/n

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casperslibrary · 6 months ago

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{Finnick Odair x Reader} To Survive The Ocean, First You Must Swim- CHAPTER TWO

chapter one | chapter three | all chapters

It takes about two seconds after I step foot on the train for Finnick to get on my nerves.

“Hello Sweetheart, pretty dress.” He says while eyeing me up and down, no doubt wearing the same face he uses to charm his customers. I never understood why he seemed so content on going back to the Capital every other month. Was he a whore? Or just a slut? Did he sleep with his admirers for fun? Or for money? Considering how much wealth he has just by winning the games, it's most likely the former. One could argue he may do it to distract from all the lives he took in the games. I wonder if my sister won, would she have done the same? No. I don’t think so.

I muster up as much hatred in my stare as I possibly can before turning away from him to examine the train. From what I know my district is one of the wealthier districts, but this train was still nicer than anywhere I’ve ever been. My stomach churns as I realise this was most likely the very same train that took my sister to her death. I try not to think about it too much.

Hadley Deadwood, victor of the 61st hunger games, and my mentor, lays on the couch with one hand over her eyes and the other hand holding onto a glass containing a brown substance. Undoubtedly alcoholic. It wasn’t uncommon for victor's to drink after they win, the worst drinker is from district twelve. His name is Haymitch, I think. I don’t blame them though, having to fight to the death and then send off children to live through exactly what they did - if they live - it's not exactly a fun way to spend your life. I swallow; if Emery wins, would the same happen to him? I could never imagine him turning to liquor to face his problems, but what other choice would he have?

Looking at Hadley, I realize that there is no way she will be able to mentor me, she can’t even stay sober for more than ten minutes. Mags, a much older victor, probably would have been better for me, but currently she is in hospital due to a stroke. Oh well, my goal is for Emery to win, not me. And as annoying as I find Finnick I must admit he will definitely help him. Sona leads me to my eccentrically lavish room, apparently I’m free to do what I want until supper in the next hour. I lay on top of my bed sheets, gold and blue and as soft as the clouds. I close my eyes, and realise for the first time in my life, the air isn’t tainted with the smell of fish and sea salt. It’s unsettling, I don’t like it. But I am only given a few moments of thought before I hear a knock on my door.

Emery enters. He does nothing but stare at me and vice versa. His overgrown dark hair falls over his face, his stylists will probably cut it later. I move my attention away from his face and into his eyes. I feel myself getting lost in their green. Reality only regains my attention when I hear his voice speak my name.

“Why did you… why did you volunteer Yin?” Yin… a nickname given to me by his mother, who once remarked that Emery and I were “as close as yin and yang!”.

“You know why,” I pause for a moment before continuing, “You wouldn’t survive a day in those games without me. You’re too good for it.”

“You shouldn’t have volunteered.”

“Well I did, I volunteered to save your life. So make sure I didn’t do it in vain.”

I know that's not fair to him, to tell him that if he were to die I would have died for nothing, but it’s true. And in any case, I need him to do the best he can to survive, I need him to learn to kill.

For the next few moments Emery and I say little words. For the first time in my five years of knowing Em, I feel a sense of animosity between us, almost as if he were mad at me for trying to save his life. He leaves and I get changed, choosing to wear a simple yellow sundress. I decide to head to supper a few minutes late, not wanting to leave my room. When I do I then have to face the reality of my situation. I have to face the woman that took my sister, the man that lived instead of her, the drunk whom my life depends on, and the boy whose life depends on me.

When I finally find myself seated at the table, I look around for Hadley. She’s nowhere to be seen.

“Hadley’s taking a nap.” Sona says, sensing the reason for my wandering gaze.

“Of course she is, how am I ever supposed to survive if my mentor can’t even stay conscious half the time?” I mumble quietly under my breath, not quiet enough apparently, because Finnick quickly replies to me.

“I have offered to mentor you instead.”

Huh?

I wonder why he would do that, it makes no sense. All it does is give him double the work, and what benefit is there to helping me?

“Oh… thank you.” Is all I can think to say in reply.

“No problem, Sweetheart.” He winks at me and gives that Capital winning grin. I hear Sona sigh next to me but all it does is give me the ick. He’s not helping me just to sleep with me, is he? Even for him that seems a bit low. I push the thought away, deciding that if he does try anything I’ll simply kick him where the sun don’t shine. The Capital has rules against hurting other tributes, but they don’t say anything about mentors.

“Don’t call her that, she’s not your sweetheart.” Emery says with a surprisingly firm tone in his voice.

“Ah I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” Finnick replies, but the smile on his face says otherwise. “I’m guessing she’s your… girlfriend?”

Emery blushes a bit, before looking back down at the table, his meek demeanor quickly returning. “No, she’s just my friend.”

“Well how lovely is that? I can already see it now! You two holding hands and making friendship bracelets in the arena.” He laughs.

“Enough of that! What can we do to stay alive?” I finally interject.

“Pulverise your enemies with the magic of friendship.”

I groan and as he brings a glass up to his lips I knock it out of his hands, it shatters on the floor. “That is swarovski!” Sona finally speaks up. We all ignore her.

“Fine, Darling, you really want to know how to survive in the arena? Never trust your friends.”

I can’t reply, because I know what Finnick is saying is true. Instead, we collectively eat in silence. On my plate is a sort of meat stew with broccoli and a side of mashed potatoes. Emery has shoveled a far bigger serving than I have, and although I know it’s due to his past lack of nutrients, I decide it's good to do the same. You never know how much food you’ll get when you enter the arena. One year the arena was completely ice, and no food was available. But chances are the game makers wouldn’t make that mistake again, it was completely anticlimactic apart from the boy that thought it would be a fun idea to eat people. He was quickly killed by an avalanche.

“It’s called Lamb, good right?” Finnick chuckles seeing my face as I stuff myself. I have to admit, the food does taste good, it’s nice to eat something other than fish for a change. I get a second helping, and I want to get a third, but I decide it’s probably not the best idea to vomit onto my plate. I wonder if Finnick would stop flirting with me if I aim for his white shirt instead? Probably, but I would probably also lose my only competent mentor, so I decide to put down my fork. Sona tells us we are expected to arrive at the Capital at nine am tomorrow. Most tributes will arrive sometime in the afternoon, district twelve being last. From what I’ve heard it can be up to a twenty four hour trip from twelve to the Capital. We, on the other hand, are substantially closer. Though I can’t tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

After supper I choose to take a shower, and when I get out I see the light outside my windows getting dimmer. Again, I choose to stay in my room, I don’t even want to see Emery at this moment. But alas, I hear a knock on my door. “Just a minute, Em!” I say as I take off my towel and quickly throw on the first set of pajamas I find.

Rushing to open the door, I am surprised to be greeted by someone far taller than Emery, I look up and see Finnick staring back down at me. Somehow up into this moment I have never realised how tall he is, probably around 195 cm. In all honesty I don’t like it, Emery being barely taller than me makes me feel safer, whereas Finnick staggering over me is just unsettling. Another point to add to the list of things I don’t like about him. I muse to myself.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He says in his calm, flirtatious, obnoxious, tone of voice. Matched with an equally arrogant smile. He probably heard me call him Em, nonetheless, I am still curious as to why he is standing at my door.

“Why are you here?” His grin grows wider.

“Well good to see you too.” He enters the room as if it were his. “I came to ask you about your strategy for the games, how you present yourself can be the key between winning or starving somewhere in a ditch.” He talks to me as if I’m a little kid that needs calming down, as if he wasn’t only two years older than me. But I should probably trust him, I mean he did win his games seemingly with ease and quite frankly, he’s all I got.

“Winning is not my goal, my goal is surviving long enough until Emery and I are the last ones standing, then I’ll simply kill myself and let him go home.”

And for a split second, though I may have been imagining it, his perfect facade drops. Though his face contorts itself back into that annoyingly calm composure just as quickly.

“Nonetheless, to last that long you still need a good strategy, are you any good with a trident?”

I shake my head, not too long after my dad drowned they moved me from fishing to preparing the fish. At the time I wasn’t sure why, sure I developed a fear of the water but that never stopped them from forcing other children into the harbor. Not that I had any complaints.

I think back to a moment, a week after his death and a week before my role was changed.

There was a storm, so there was no one out fishing. I found myself on the edge of a cliff, it wasn’t high enough to kill me, but the beach and the water were all below me. My mom is a very superstitious person, she believed that the place of your death is the area where your soul will be resting for eternity. And there, right below me, was where my dads soul was resting. And I thought maybe, just maybe, that if I drowned in the same ocean as him, I could be with him again. So before I even realised it I was falling. Falling then crashing then sinking then dying.

I must have hit my head on a rock at some point, because the next thing I remember was waking up on the coastline. And then I ran, ran to Emery’s house. At first I assumed someone must have pulled me out and onto the shore, but when no one spoke up I figured it must have been some sweetly cruel act of God. Taking away everything I have and then pushing me away when I wanted it back.

But in any case, no one knew about my failed attempt, so when they changed my role I figured it must have been a coincidence, but after that day, I never swam again.

“No, my job is preparing the fish, but I am good with a knife because of it.” I finally let out after snapping back to reality.

“Good, knives are cheaper and more common. During training I want you to focus on knife combat and especially knife throwing. It's better than trying to learn a whole new skill in just a week and it will allow you to do well in both hand to hand combat and distance fighting.” Finnick says, and for once he actually sounds serious. I simply nod in return.

“Anyways, about your image,” he continues, “Your volunteering to be with Emery has already put you in the spotlight. I suggest you focus on that, but not to the point where they know you plan to kill yourself in the end. People are not going to sponsor a tribute that has no plans on winning. Talk about how lucky you are to be here, and how you can’t wait to go on this adventure with your boyfriend.”

I cringe, lucky to be here? Boyfriend?

“But were not-”

“It doesn’t matter if you two aren’t actually dating. The capital wants someone to root for, and they are suckers for romance. Trust me I know.” As he says that last sentence, I almost hear pain laced in his voice. But brush off that idea quickly, it makes no sense.

“I already had the same talk with Emery, and besides from the whole romance part, just try your best to be likeable. Got it princess?” His sickeningly perfect smile appears again. And again I feel the urge to barf. But some part of me almost feels… flustered? It’s probably just gratitude. And I have to admit I am in fact grateful, as much as I have hated him in the past, I do see that he is doing his best to help me survive. And as Finnick struts out of my room I come to a disturbing revelation.

Finnick Odair… isn’t actually all that bad.

#fanfic #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick odair x you #hunger games #thg #hunger games fanfiction

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casperslibrary · 6 months ago

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{Finnick Odair x Reader} To Survive The Ocean, First You Must Swim- CHAPTER ONE

A/N: first time ever writing a fic! Sorry if I do it wrong tumblr is confusing

chapter two | all chapters

Everything is always blue, too blue. No matter how far I run, blue always follows me, a gentle taunting that never gives up. In 4th grade art class they taught us the colour theory behind blue. That it was supposed to be a colour of calm, symbolising serenity and freedom. Ironic, really, when all it ever seems to do is remind me of how really trapped I am.

Blue is the colour of the clothes they wore, when they took her.

Blue is the colour of the endless horizon, the one that took him.

I won’t let blue take me. I refuse it.

“You alright?” My eyes turn to meet the source of that voice, and I am met with green in return. Green is good, green is safe.

Emery blinks and I break eye contact, instead opting to face my shoes instead.

“How could I be?” I respond, a dry sense of humour lacing my voice.

“Fair.” Is all he could say. But it's normal, no one is alright. Not today at least. Because today is the day of the reaping.

I have already gotten ready, my mother put me in a white flowy dress. It used to belong to my sister, Cornelia. It hurts to wear, the soft fabric burns against my skin as I try my best not to think about it.

Unwrapping an afternoon tea, I give the majority to Emery, he needs it more than me. Emery’s siblings are too young to work, and his mother is restricted to a wheelchair, making Emery the sole provider of his family. The result of which is evident, where on most people there is muscle from fishing, on him there is only bone. I don’t have a swimmers body either, while I technically know how to swim I haven’t touched the water since my fathers death. A fishing incident, not even his aquatic skills could save him.

“Thank you, really” Emery says my name, and I know his gratitude is genuine. But really, I should be the one thanking him. When my sister died in the games, he was there, by my side. When my father was taken by the ocean, he was there, listening to my cries. Emery saved my life, and for that, I owe him everything.

“Don’t worry about it,” I put on a smile to the best of my abilities. “We’ll have more after the reaping.”

“Mhm,” he nods while stuffing his face. It would be amusing if it weren’t so sad. “We’ll be alright. And in two years time we’ll be safe.”

I nod, but I know it isn’t true. My dad’s reaping days were far behind him, yet he wasn’t safe.

Emery and I make our way from the beach side to the town square, the giant clock adorning the Justice Building reads quarter to four. ‘May the odds ever be in your favour’ is what Emery whispers as he squeezes my hand, before walking off to the boys section. I am ushered to the area for girls aged sixteen.

Dahlia Lain - if I can remember her name correctly - is on my right. I don’t know much about her, but I know her brother used to shove Emery into lockers at school before I threw a rock at him, hard. I look to the girl to my left. Her brunette curls and brown eyes are unfamiliar to me, but she looks scared. Her dark skin barely hides her bones, I’m guessing she had to take out tesserae, the most likely cause for the fear on her face. I hope her name isn’t called. It doesn’t look like she would last long.

Sona, our escort, welcomes us to the 69th hunger games, wishing the odds to ever be in our favour. I hate her, now more than ever. She is wearing a different dress than the one she wore to the 65th, but the shade of blue is still the same. The same blue she wore when she called my sister's name. Pain washes over my body as I think back to that moment. I was twelve, I was eligible. I should have volunteered when Cornelia’s name was called. Sure, a twelve year old girl stands far less of a chance of surviving than a fifteen year old. But what did age get my sister? The man she lost to was fourteen anyways. I look up to stare at his face, he sits on the stage so casually, as if he had not a care in the world. The pain in my skin turns to anger and I feel my breath shorten. It should have been my sister that won, not him. She stood a chance, a real chance. She too was from district four, she had his same skill set, but it was his face - his annoyingly perfect face - that was the cause of his victory.

I hate him. He didn’t directly kill my sister, but that didn't matter.

I hate Finnick Odair.

Before I even realise Sona has the paper in her hands. I wonder if there are going to be volunteers, in district one and two, volunteering almost always occurs. In district four however, volunteering is a bit more scarce, but still not uncommon. I don’t realise how scared I am until she opens the paper.

‘what if it's me?’

“Nala Wenlock”

Relief floods over my body, and I barely register the girl on my left slowly walking to the front. Her trembling physique was upsetting, yes, but better her than me. Though my repose was short lived, because the next name called out makes my knees buckle and my hands shake.

“Emery Jones”

‘What?’ This wasn't supposed to happen, he didn’t have to take out tesserae, I made sure of it, I fed him as much as possible.

Dahlia catches me and as I see her face I think back to her brother, and how vulnerable Emery is. He is kind, it was that very kindness that saved my life, but I know that in the end it will be his kindness that will kill him. Even if he does manage to hold a weapon to another tribute, with his skinny physique there would be no chance of Emery overpowering them.

No, I can’t let him go in alone.

He needs me.

I need him.

I didn’t volunteer for my sister, but I won’t make that same mistake again.

“I volunteer!” I scream running towards the stage.

“I volunteer in place of Nala Wenlock!” Sona looks in shock, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a female tribute volunteer after the male name was called.

‘It can’t be too late, please don’t let it be too late.’

She looks to the mayor, who gives a subtle nod.

“Okay then,” she smiles, “How joyful, what is your name?” she says as she helps me onto the stage, and as I tell her my name, I see the look of relief, and gratitude as Nala steps down from the stage.

“Are you perhaps a friend of Nala?” She says happily.

“Emery, I’m a friend of Emery.” Friends. That's technically what you would call it. As much as I wish for something more, we are just friends. But I still can’t seem to regret my decision as I stand on this stage. Not as a myriad of solemn clapping fills my ears, not as I make eye contact with my mother. Standing in the crowd, face of terror tainting her beauty. She will be alright, she is one of the best healers in the district, she doesn’t need me to take care of her. She will be just fine. Emery on the other hand, Emery needs me. He saved me, and it was my turn to save him.

Not being able to look at her anymore, I turn my head, and my eyes land on Finnick, and for the first time since his games, I see his perfect features not in a state of calm, but instead one of shock, and maybe even… sadness? No, he doesn’t know me. He has no reason to pity me. I dismiss the idea quickly and turn to shake Emery’s hand. He gives it a light squeeze, and I can see in his eyes he is scared. I am too, but I am ready. Ready to do whatever it takes to save him.

We are quickly led inside the Justice Building, but I don’t register any of it. I am only pulled back into reality when I see my mother standing in front of me.

“Please tell me you’ll try to win”

“Mom… I…”

“Please. I’ve already lost your father, I’ve already lost your sister to these rancid games, I can’t lose you too.”

I rise from the soft, horridly blue, couch. Arms enveloping her before I even realise it. “You are strong, mom, you will be okay.” Her trembling arms wrap around me.

“But you will try to win?”

“Yes.” It's a lie, a horrid lie, but at this moment it's all I can say. All I can do to comfort her as she cries into my shoulder.

“You are so brave, so kind, my beautiful girl.” Is all she can whisper before the peacekeepers tell her time is up. Her sobs echo down the hallway and echo in my mind, even after she is well gone. I expect her to be my only visit, but Cynthia, Emery’s mother, comes through my door. As she rolls closer to me I get onto my knees to be the same height as her.

“I won’t let him die. I’ll do everything I can.” We have never talked much, but she has the same kindness in her heart as her son, and as her frigid hand takes mine, I can’t help the tears that form in my eyes. “Thank you,” she says as her own eyes flood with tears, “Even if he doesn’t survive, it is a blessing to know he won’t die alone. Thank you.”

I can’t say anything at risk of everything coming out, all at once. I can’t cry, they will film as I board the train and even if I manage to stop by then my eyes will be red and puffy. So instead, I hug her, and I hope it is enough.

Finally, and least expected of all, Nala enters the room. She must know I didn't volunteer for her, right?

“You saved my life, I know it wasn’t for me, but still you saved my life.” She whispers.

“I do not know you, but I will forever be grateful.”

I can’t say anything, but apparently I don’t need to. Instead she takes my hand, and in it, she places a necklace.

I look at it, and I feel my stomach drop. Based on her slender frame and old dress, I can tell she probably does not have a lot of nice things. So why is she giving me this? This sapphire necklace? It couldn’t have been cheap.

Suddenly, even though I don’t know her, I care for her. That has always been my weakness, Emery’s is kindness and mine is caring. It doesn’t matter anyways, and at this moment I can’t find myself to hate the blue of this pendant.

“I hope you wear this, into the arena. You’re allowed one token from home.”

I thank her, and allow her to put it around my neck before hugging her. I find myself to be happy almost, happy that I am the one being sent to my death and not her.

We hug until the peacekeepers pull her off me. And all too quickly, I am alone again. They take me to the train, and as I board I take Emery’s hand. And as I am being whisked off to my death I feel strangely… calm? Like in the end, everything will be alright, just as Emery always promised.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #thg fanfiction #hunger games #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x y/n #finnick fanfic #hunger games finnick

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