maeedrg

[maeedrg]

Is Sae Boui boui the same person as Greasy Sae?

Yes it’s her ! I The old woman that sells at the Hob. I based myself on the book, but I think I didn’t write her English nickname, but instead the one from the other language I read the books in the past, my bad 😔

[maeedrg]

UNTIL PANEM IS FREE

chapter 8

75th Hunger Games Finnick Odair x reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, currently reading ch8

synopsis : back from the hospital, you learn that Finnick is chosen to be part of the squad that will battle against the Capitol. You decide to join him, training everyday, while you question if your relationship is still romantic or not. But then, Finnick confesses something that will shake you forever. And your first fight with Finnick since the announcement of the Quarter Quell happens.

words count : 9.2k

warnings : angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, fight, no more warnings… for now.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ autor’s note : I finished reading SOTR, Haymitch's book. I'm devastated. Completely. Since my heart broke into thousands of pieces, I want my readers to go through the same agony, just to share my despair and doom... Kidding ! Or maybe not...

———————————————————————————

Living in District 13, outside of the hospital, wasn’t as bad as you thought. The military schedule forced you to follow things without having to think too much about it, and with your troubled mind, it actually eased the overthinking.

The room you shared was with Mags and Finnick. For security, Teff Silverlock ordered to not let you alone for too long with Finnick, in case your psychosis would start again. Having the old woman by your side, and knowing you could rely on her when being with the blond became too overwhelming, actually soothed your worries.

The first three days were the same. Every morning, you get a temporary tattoo on the underside of your arm that shows your daily schedule. The schedule displays, in 24-hour time, where to be and what activities are to be performed at specific hours. After a certain time, the ink breaks down and can be washed off in preparation for the following day. During your reflection time, Finnick tried to act with you like he always did in District 4 as much as possible, in an attempt to make your relationship feel the same as in the past. It worked sometimes, but not always.

On the fourth day, something was added in your schedule when the ink appeared in the morning.

“Training ?” you ask and look at Finnick that approaches you, taking your wrist. “That’s what I told you. I’ll train with you, with soldier York,” he explains, and you nod as you remember the conversion you had about it back in the hospital.

“I feel like the days are becoming longer and longer,” you sigh to yourself, walking next to him to go eat your breakfast with other citizens. 

Today, Mags was on duty to serve food. She quite liked it, and you noticed how she made a friend. An old woman from 12 that got rescued, apparently named Sae Boui-boui. The two of them got quite along, and it made you indescribably happy to see her like this with someone her age. It reminded you of your friendship with Johanna, and seeing girlhood through the ages filled your heart with sweetness. It happened too that Haymitch Abernanny, a refugee from District 12 as well, that was a Victor who once had Mags as his mentor, ate with her or exchanged some words. She told you in the past how his games went, not from the point of view of what they showed on the tv, but based on what she saw and moments she had with him. The truth. To say the least, he had nobody. And maybe, just maybe, sharing some time with the old woman was better than nothing. Even if he clearly was in bad moods all the time since he couldn’t drink here, in District 13. 

You sit at a table next to Finnick, and soon are joined by a familiar face. It was nobody else but Gale Hawthorne, the young man that was part of your rescue team. The cousin of Katniss, from what people said. 

“Mind if I join ?” asks Gale, putting down his plate of food in front of you. “Please yourself, Hawthorne,” answers Finnick as he gestures him to do so. He greets you, and you do the same, swallowing the tasteless food.

“I heard you won’t be training anymore, Odair. Did something happen ?” Gale asks as he bites on his fork, with what seemed like meat, even if it actually wasn’t. 

“He’ll be training with me,” you reply instead of Finnick, feeling like it was your fault.  “I guess with Soldier York,” adds Gale in understanding.

“It got scheduled with y/n’s psychologist. And I wanted to be with her, in case something happened,” Finnick explains after drinking some water, then looking at you with care and worry. Gale, for a second, widens his eyes then has a small chuckle and points at Finnick with his fork, shaking his head.

“I thought for a second that you changed your mind. But I’m glad you didn’t,” he says. You freeze, not quite understanding what he exactly meant.

“Changed his mind for what ?” you ask, frowning. Finnick tenses a bit and you immediately sense it, making you turn towards him.

“To be part of the squad sent to battle against the Capitol,” answers Gale nonchalantly, not really seeing how the atmosphere shifted a bit. You stop eating, dread all over your face.

“Excuse-me ? Why didn't I know about it ?” you exclaim in betrayal. How something that important was kept away from your knowledge ? Memories come back to your mind. Back when you learnt about the Quarter Quell, and that Finnick knew about the rebels’ plan thanks to Heavensbee, but kept it a secret from you. You got terribly mad at him. And yet, here again he decided to do something that was surely a suicidal quest, without telling you about it nor making you follow him in this. 

“You had other things to focus on, y/n. Your recovery. I didn’t want to trouble your mind-” starts to justify Finnick as he looks pained and guilty, softly taking your hand to calm you down.

“Finnick, seriously you… nevermind,” you sigh, yanking your hand away from his grasp and go back to eat instead of sparing him a glance. Finnick’s shoulder sag in defeat, and instead of forcing you to listen to him, he simply goes back to finish his food. Even if he lost all his appetite. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start an argument,” Gale excuses himself awkwardly.

“No, it’s alright Hawthorne. It’s my fault that I didn’t warn y/n beforehand,” protests the blond as he shakes his head, fully taking the blame. Gale nods, and the three of you eat the last bites of your dishes before he stands up with his empty plate in his hands.

“Well, I won’t see you around for some time, Odair. I go on a mission to District 2,” he announces.

“With Katniss ?” you ask. “How did you know ?” Gale questions, surprised.

“She told me,” you simply answer in a shrug. Finnick looks at you, wondering when did you meet the girl.

“Then say hi to her. Goodbye,” waves Finnick in his usual charming smile.

“Goodbye. And good luck for your training, y/n,” finishes Gale before leaving the two of you alone at the table. It didn’t last long as another group of District 13 citizens arrived to eat as well. 

You stand up from your chair, and follow Finnick silently outside the refectory. You were supposed to go to the training grounds, but the moment you are alone in a corridor, you grab him by the arm and glare at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me ?” you ask angrily, his back against the wall. When you breathe, you then realize that again, you got violent towards Finnick in a fit of rage. Feeling slightly guilty, you let him go instantly. As if your touch burned him.

“I told you, I didn’t want to put too much on your shoulders when you are still in recovery. I’m sorry,” he explains himself for the second time, shaking his head. You point at him, not accepting his apology.

“No, you aren’t really sorry. You did the same for the Quarter Quell. And yet here you do it again ? Hiding that you’ll go for the second time in a suicidal quest without me ?!” your voice raises without you could control it. Each inhale inflates your lungs in an escalating anger and feeling of betrayal. 

“I can’t lose you twice !” retorts Finnick, raising his voice as well, “I can’t lose you twice…” he repeats, calming down and lowering his voice instead.

“I know I’m not completely myself, I need active therapy everyday, and that in between you and me… things are different now. But for fuck’s sake, I still will never let you slip through my fingers !” you retort, gesturing your arms to emphasize what you were communicating. 

“YOU are the one slipping through my fingers, y/n ! Don’t you understand it ?!” Finnick suddenly screams in a way that makes you lose your train of thoughts or any animosity towards him. He catches back his breath, looking at you with anger and so much despair that it hurts.

“... I know I… I’m…” you hesitate to answer, stuttering. He brushes his hair then his face with his hand. Suddenly, you feel his arms around your body, colliding against your chest. His hug is tight, warm.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just… everything is too complicated. And I’m scared. It’s hard to know what to do anymore,” he whispers in your hair, nose brushing against your ear. Limbs shaky, fingers contracting against your back. You hug him as well, letting all the built up tension go away. 

“Are you serious about wanting to be part of this squad ?” you ask after a few seconds in a calmer voice, raising your head to look at him in the eyes. He nods, fingers gently caressing your cheek.

“I am. I need to go fight there. To avenge you, to avenge myself, and to avenge the Districts.”

Silence, you swallow your saliva. Eyes on the floor, your nails graze his arm.

“Until Panem is free, loving each other would never bring us peace, right ?” you murmur in utter defeat. Finnick sighs softly, hand resting at the back of your head and snuggling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

“Y/n, understand why I’m doing that,” he says gently, soft voice brushing your skin.

“Then understand that I want to follow you,” you retort, taking his face in your hands. 

“Please,” he begs, shattering word, imploring you to not follow him again in such madness. Not again.

“I know I look like a puppy following you into the Quarter Quell, and now wanting to volunteer to be part of a squad that would surely kill us as well. But after all you’ve done to me, I refuse to let you down. I need to avenge myself too, for what they did to me, to you, Peeta, Johanna, everyone. So don’t take it too personally,” you explain yourself. He looks at you in the eyes for a solid five seconds, wondering how he could convince you to do otherwise. But Finnick knew he couldn’t, so he simply sighs, then takes a deep breath and looks at the corridor that would lead you to the training grounds.

“If the Assignment Board deems you fit, possibly your case will be reviewed,” he says. You nod, relieved that he won’t protest more.

“Then I’ll guess I’ll have to train like crazy,” you say, determined.

At 7:30 in the morning, you and Finnick report for training. As expected, you’ve been funneled into a class of relative beginners. Tenagers, fourteen, fifteen-year-olds. But you knew that with your physical condition still in recovery, you couldn’t afford to be in an accelerated phase of training. Not like how Finnick, Gale and the other people already chosen to go to the Capitol are in a different one.

Soldier York, a muscular older woman approaches and greets Finnick, calling him soldier Odair, then turns towards you.

“I’m soldier York. If I deem your efforts enough, I’ll uppergrade your phase of training in another class, soldier l/n. So you better give your all, with no excuses,” she says, shaking your hand.

“Understood,” you answer militarily. Finnick chuckles and smirks at you, nudging discreetly your shoulder. “You’re in for a ride, honey,” he whispers in your ear.

After this, you start to stretch with all the other younger soldiers under the watchful eye of York. Finnick helps you with your back and your knees, body still feeling sore and weak. Then there’s a couple of hours of strengthening exercises, Finnick mostly looking at you and assisting your training as it was all too easy for him. But you don’t show weakness, wanting to give your best. His support actually helped you out. Then a five-mile run, that ended up draining you of all your energy. At lunch, you were more than eager to eat the tasteless food. 

In the afternoon, you learn to assemble your guns. The blond shows you how to do it, him being able to assemble the weapon with his eyes closed since he got formatted to do it that efficiently. Handling a gun reminds you of when you almost killed the peacekeeper in the corridor back at the Capitol, when you were escaping with Peeta to go to the Community Hall. Finnick snaps you back out of your thoughts. 

At the end of the day, you are exhausted. Yet, you still couldn’t rest. It was therapy time with Teff Silverlock. Swimming in the pool, terrifying as it was, in a duality felt good as it refreshed your sweaty and dirty body. Even if you didn’t support staying too long in there, still too scared of it. Finnick catches you back in his arms, helping you. You step out of the water, to ironically go back under it when the time ticked shower in your schedule inked on your wrist.

Unable to stay alone under water, even more if you have to close your eyes, it’s actually Mags that helps you with cleaning your dirty hair. It felt good, soft, and the both of you talk about your day.

“You really get along with Sae Boui-Boui. She looks fun,” you comment when walking back inside your shared quarters, Finnick already waiting on his bed and passing time by looking at pictures in his hands. He lifts his head to greet the two of you, smiling.

“I once talked with her. She said she wished she could make me try her favorite soup, something with rats,” he explains before laughing a bit. Mags snickers and sits next to him, patting his back.

“I bet it’s better than you think,” you comment and lay on your bed, refreshed. Curling in the sheets, wrapping yourself like a cocoon, it’s as if all your problems were far away from here.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover,” he teases, winking at you playfully. After this, it was time to sleep on your schedule. So you close your eyes, Mags going back to her own mattress.

Tonight, you have nightmares again. Restless ones. The same as always since you got hijacked. Suddenly, you feel like you aren’t getting any better. Finnick joins you in bed, calming you down when taking you in his arms. Sweet nothings whispered in the crook of your ear, hand gently caressing your back, fingers intertwining with yours. It seems to ease your nightmares. Once again, Finnick is here for you. Always and forever.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

The following days, training took a new important part in your routine. Gale and Katniss left for District 2, and each morning, afternoon, evening and night are like a loophole. Waking up, breakfast, training, lunch, training, therapy, reflection, dinner, shower, sleep. All over again for the second, third, seventh time, etc.

This afternoon, it rains. But your training doesn't stop. You actually felt relieved of being able to do so without panicking, thanks to all the effort you had to put with your psychologist and to recover from your trauma. You end up on the shooting ranges, and with surprise, you’re getting pretty good at it. Mainly because you had extra help, Finnick always correcting you if you slipped. 

“Soldier l/n, this is a good improvement. In one week, I’ll uppergrade your training in another phase if you continue like this,” announces York, nodding at you with her usual coldness and militarism, but really, it makes you happy and you know it is her way of being nice.

“Understood, soldier York,” you answer, trying to stop a big smile from forming on your lips. Finnick, seemingly unbothered to show his excitement, brings you closer to him and kisses the side of your head, hand holding your face and biting his lower lip. “I’m proud of you,” he whispers to your ears only, the green of his searching your gaze. Something warm spreads in your heart.

“Soldier Odair, if you please act more seriously,” reprimands the woman, giving him a glare. It wasn’t the first time she had to, actually. Finnick always took the opportunity to show his affection to you, even if it was against the rules of the class.

“Sorry Soldier York, didn’t want to give a show to the youngsters here,” answers Finnick in a baritone voice laced with some mischief. He lets you go, making you roll your eyes. Training continues for another thirty minutes until you are dismissed.

Another week passes. Sitting at the table of the refectory packed with other citizens eating their meal, everything becomes silent when the TVs plastered all around the gigantic place flicker. Today’s propaganda of District 13 wasn’t the same as usual. Katniss was back.

Exclamations are heard, everyone’s interest picked. Will you finally have some news about the situation in District 2 ? You lean forward, as if it would actually bring you closer to the girl behind the screen.

“People of District 2, this is Katniss Everdeen speaking to you from the steps of your Justice Building, where-” a pair of trains comes screeching into what seems like a train station side by side. As the doors slide open, people tumble out in a cloud of smoke, acting evasively. Most of them flatten on the floor, and a spray of bullets inside the station takes out the lights. They’ve come armed, wounded as well. What the hell happened ? Voices are heard in the refectory, people wondering the same thing.

A flame blooms inside the station, one of the trains must actually be on fire, and a thick, black smoke billows against the windows. Left with no choice, the people begin to push out into the square, choking but defiantly waving their guns. A young man staggers out from the station, one hand pressed against a bloody cloth at his cheek, the other dragging a gun. When he trips and falls to his face, Katniss’ feet fly down the steps and she runs for him. 

“Stop !” she yells at the rebels. “Hold your fire !” The words echo around the square. “Stop !” 

She's nearing the young man, reaching down to help him, when he drags himself up to his knees and trains his gun on her head. Everyone around you gasps, and Finnick suddenly holds your hand under the table. You squeeze his fingers.

Katniss instinctively backs up a few steps, raises her bow over her head to show her intention was harmless. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you,” growls the man.

“I can’t,” she simply answers. You swallow hard, whispering her name in worry. “I can’t. That’s the problem, isn’t it ?” she lowers her bow. “We blew up your mine. You burned my District to the ground. We’ve got every reason to kill each other. So do it. Make the Capitol happy. I’m done killing their slaves for them.” She drops her bow on the ground and gives it a nudge with her boot. It slides across the stone and comes to rest at his knees. 

“I’m not their slave,” the man mutters. 

“I am,” she says. “That’s why I killed Cato… and he killed Thresh… and he killed Clove… and she tried to kill me. It just goes around and around, and who wins ? Not us. Not the Districts. Always the Capitol. But I’m tired of being a piece in their Games.” 

“She’s right,” you whisper, and Finnick nods, looking at you for a few seconds in a way that you don’t understand, before looking back at the tv.

“When I saw that mountain fall tonight, I thought… they’ve done it again. Got me to kill you, the people in the Districts. But why did I do it ? District 12 and District 2 have no fight except the one the Capitol gave us.” The young man blinks at her uncomprehendingly.

Katniss sinks on her knees before him, her voice low and urgent. “And why are you fighting with the rebels on the rooftops ? With Lyme, who was your Victor ? With people who were your neighbors, maybe even your family ?”

“I don’t know,” says the man. Katniss rises and turns slowly in a circle, addressing the machine guns. “And you up there ? I come from a mining town. Since when do miners condemn other miners to that kind of death, and then stand by to kill whoever manages to crawl from the rubble ?” 

“These people,” she indicates the wounded bodies on the square, “are not your enemy ! The rebels are not your enemy ! We all have one enemy, and it’s the Capitol ! This is our chance to put an end to their power, but we need every district person to do it !” 

The cameras are tight on her as she reaches out her hands to the man, to the wounded, to the reluctant rebels across Panem. Finnick sighs, shaking his head.

“I fear it won’t work. District 2 is still under the Capitol’s control, mentally,” whispers Finnick in defeat, lower voice ringing in your ears. “I fear for her, she’s only a child,” you murmur back to him.

“Please ! Join us !” Katniss’ words hang in the air. She looks at the screen. Everyone around you is exclaiming their applause to what she said. But everything comes to a stop when Katniss gets shot. The tv screen gets black. Finnick was right. 

“Oh my-” you exclaim before people all talk in panic. Worried for her life, you look around. You see a glimpse of a young girl with a blond braid looking in horror at the screen. Katniss’ little sister, Prim.

“Is she dead ?!” you say as you look at Finnick with eyes wide open. He doesn’t have time to answer you that a voice echoes in the speakers of the refectory, ordering people to go back to the activities of their schedule, and that everything was under control. It didn’t look like it.

People leave, you put away your own meal plate where it’s supposed to. Finnick ends up walking you out of the refectory, keeping his hand in yours and not letting it go even for a second, not wanting to be separated. The two of you are lost in thoughts after what happened and what you saw.

Normally, it was written on the schedule on your wrist that it was shower time. But instead of going towards the assigned bathrooms, you stop him.

“Is President Coin lying ? You told me how she acted when Katniss was mentioned," you ask, looking at him in the eyes to be sure he would be honest with you when answering. 

“Coin probably hopes for her to be dead, as she would make a good martyr for the rebels. But Katniss surely had a bullet proof jacket under her clothes. She’s for sure more ok than you think,” he explains what he supposes, worried for the girl but still with hope that she was fine. You nod, acknowledging what he said. The team she was with never would have left her defenseless in the open like this. She must have some sort of protection on her.

“You’re right,” you agree.

Your hands get unlocked when you leave for your shower. You meet back Mags, talking about what you saw. She wasn’t eating with you this evening, but with Sae Boui-Boui. She asked beforehand, wondering if it would be ok to leave the two of you alone without her presence. But the both of you insisted for her to go have some time with her friend, because even if Mags was an old woman, she had every right to have fun with a friend of hers. 

You wash yourself, she helps you out, and you come back to your room. Freshly washed as well, Finnick asks you to follow him. You do, wondering if he wanted to talk about something. He seemed slightly nervous. You both arrive at a railing, allowing you to see the other floors of District 13. He puts his arms against it, looking down. The soft dim light illuminates your skin, and his blond hair.

“I just wanted to talk, you and me, alone,” he simply says in a lower voice that wanted to sound lighter, but it failed. You lean on the railing too, shoulder sagging.

“Everything is becoming even more serious right now. Time is counted. And before we realize, we’ll have our answer if Panem will finally be free, or back to slavery,” you state.

“I know. Everything goes fast, and I’m scared that our time together is not enough,” he admits in a sigh. Realizing what he meant, guilt eats you alive.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Honey, I already told you multiple times that it’s not your fault,” he takes your hand again, warm and soft. He didn’t even get tired of having this type of conversation all over again with you. But he knew you needed it. So he repeated himself without complaining.

“It is. I don’t even know what we are anymore. Are we still really dating ? I destroyed everything with my psychosis, and my fear, and-” you start to protest in a louder voice, before he interrupts you. “Do you hear yourself ? You are a victim of the Capitol, y/n. Please, don’t worry about something you can’t control.”

“What if I got rescued by District 13 instead ? Do you think about it often ? How would things have turned out for us ? I do everyday,” you retort, shaking your hand. Your free hand lands on your intertwined fingers, looking at Finnick in the eyes. His lips falter, gaze shifting, strength crumbling under the reality of your words.

“I do too,” his voice cracks. With this confirmation, you can’t even answer. Because it hurts too much. But you try to reassure yourself. At least Finnick was alive, you never had his blood on your hands, nor you killed him, he wasn’t a mutt and for God’s sake, you were safe here in District 13. But for how long ?

“Can I be honest about something ?” he asks softly.

“Of course,” you nod, curious but scared too of what he could announce. He takes a deep breath to seemingly gather some courage in an attempt to speak his mind and express his feelings.

“I thought… I thought that after your rescue, things would have been different. And with the fear of us dying soon because of the war, of losing you again, I wanted to seal our love for good before it would be too late. Something we dreamed about back in District 4, but was impossible. I know that now, I can’t ask you this anymore. Not with how things changed in between us. Yet, I couldn’t keep it to myself, and I wanted to confess it to you,” he starts to say, free hand searching in his pocket for something.

“What was it ?” you ask in a weavering voice, already guessing what he meant, but too scared to say it out loud. Then, holding in his hand, a beautiful ring that belonged to his deceased mother.

“I wanted to ask for your hand in marriage.”

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

At night, your schedule showed that you had to go back to your room. But you couldn’t. You still were trying to assimilate what Finnick confessed to you. He wanted to marry you. Here, in District 13. And because of being hijacked, the feelings you had towards him changing from love to fear then confusion, it would never happen. You put your hand over your mouth, sitting in a tight corner of a corridor where nobody could see nor hear you. Tears are streaming down your face. Sobbing painfully, then hiccuping in a loophole. You dig your nails where your heart was supposed to be. Wishing you could rip it from your flesh, then offer it to Finnick. Maybe like this, everything would come back to normal. You would marry him, go to the Capitol, destroy its constitution, win the war, then live happily ever after with the man that was the love of your life.

But being tortured killed the old you. He was the love of your past life. The new one you were trying to build, you didn’t even know if your heart could handle falling in love all over again. Maybe you already were, or you never stopped loving him. But how could you really know ? Everything was a mess. Your mind, pure chaos. Was it love or pity ?

Then you think back about everything that happened since you were rescued. You immediately jumped into his arms, reaching for his warmth. Wasn’t it proof that you still were enamored ? Yet, after, you attacked him. Numerous times. Going from trusting him back, to having nightmares, talking to him, then being mean and violent, close and intimate, to distant and lost. 

You sob again, a second, third, seventh time. Choking on your tears, snot coming out of your nose, ugly crying like you never did before. You didn’t know if you’ll have the strength to come back, acting like you were alright, hiding your face and going to sleep. Finnick was surely crying too, in Mags’ arms. After all, how couldn’t he ? But you wanted to be alone, to gain back some courage. After ten more minutes of isolating yourself, mourning the old you, your relationship with Finnick and what could have happened if nothing went south, you stand up. Messily drying your face, blowing your nose, and dragging your feet towards the hallway. 

At the same time, you suddenly bump into someone and even fall on the floor. A voice groans, throwing insults. You instantly recognise the fashion way of talking, facing Johanna on the floor too.

“Y/n ?” she asks, surprised to bump into you like this, before standing back up and offering you a hand. You take it without hesitation. Having no time to react, she drags you behind a wall. Slamming your back against it, passes a nurse calling out for her, handling a flashlight in the darkness of the floor. Everyone was supposed to sleep. Must be why she was out there looking for Johanna.

“What are you doing here ?” you ask in a rushed whisper, almost forgetting that you were crying like a baby one minute ago because of how startled you were to see your friend.

“Hospital bullshit driving me crazy ! I needed to breathe, and now this stupid nurse is following me around. Can’t give me a damn break,” she snaps in a same rushed whisper. Anger and annoyance written all over her face. You bristle at her frustration.

“We shouldn’t stay here too long then, she’ll find you,” you end up answering, taking her arm and beckoning her to go somewhere else. As far as possible from this nurse.

“Wanna stay with me ?” she asks, giving one last glance to the corridor before turning towards you. You think for a second, wondering about the pros and the cons. You sigh deeply.

“Well…I don’t really want to go back in my room, to be honest,” you admit, eyes haggard.

“How about an all-nighter ? Ten times better than staying on my hospital bed,” she proposes after analyzing your face for some seconds. “We better not get caught,” you add, pointing at her then looking around to make sure nobody was around.

“And even if they do, what will they say ? I’m ill, and they consider you crazy. So, no harm done to two refugees like us,” she shrugs nonchalantly and with some hint of challenge in her voice.

“Alright. But I don’t want Mags or Finnick to worry if I don’t come back,” you accept, giving a glance towards the dorms. The atmosphere was dim, swallowed in the darkness aside from the leds that slightly illuminated the corridors for evacuation or emergencies. Johanna slaps her tongue against her teeth, shaking her shaved head.

“They’ll survive by seeing you back tomorrow morning. And if they saw you cry, they must understand that you need space. But if you really want to warn them, we can go,” she explains, which makes you freeze instantly when she mentions the word cry.

“You saw me cry ?” you ask surprised, somewhat bashfully at the idea that you got caught red handed in this moment of vulnerability.

“Heard you meters away before bumping into you. Wasn’t sure who it was at first,” she says without a care in the world, not minding a bit that she saw you like this. You brush your hand over your face, inhaling longly. “Oh god, how embarrassing," you whisper to yourself.

“So, do you want to first warn Finnick and Mags ?” she asks. You bite the inside of your cheek. “No,” you whisper after some reflection. Surely they will understand that you need time to assimilate your emotions.

At the same moment, the nurse retraces her steps in a last attempt to find Johanna within the perimeter. “Let’s go left !” she whispers to you and drags you towards the direction she indicated.

The rest of the night is a game of cat and mouse. Escaping, finding somewhere calm, talking discreetly, laughing, sharing your mutual experience here in District 13, then escaping again before getting caught. At some point, like in the Arena, the two of you took turns sleeping for a short while, the other keeping an eye open in case someone would come. It was oddly comforting, and triggering at the same time. But by Johanna’s side, at least you felt in tune with yourself.

In the morning, when you went to eat breakfast in the dining hall, you tried as best as you could to avoid Finnick. How guilty you were feeling that you didn’t warn him of your little getaway with Johanna. The moment you noticed him by Mag’s side, your stomach dropped. You never saw him like this, aside from how Katniss described him to you when you were captured by the Capitol.

His hair disheveled, dark circles under his eyes that were staring at nothing in particular. He looked perturbed, like he went through a horrible night. Maybe he didn’t sleep. His hands holding the plate of food are shaking, fingers moving in a way that you recognize. The same pattern when he ties a knot. 

Suddenly, you don’t know what to do. Should you go see him ? Apologize for not warning him and Mags ? For avoiding him ? Or instead wait later, maybe at the training. You will have to go change in your room no matter what, as you still didn’t. Will you cross his path ?

When you take your decision, he has already disappeared from your line of sight. With the sea of people claiming their food, you don’t find him back. In defeat, you sit at a random table with other people, then eat your breakfast with no motivation whatsoever. After swallowing everything, with a lot of water, you leave the refectory hastily. Arriving at your dorm, you brush your teeth then change quickly.

“Where were you ?” asks a voice.

As you were putting on the daily uniform, more exactly the shirt, you freeze. Your shoulders straighten, hearing Finnick’s voice sounding so broken makes you swallow back the atrocious guilt you were feeling in your throat. Your back turned to him, you hesitate for a second. A second too long because he steps closer.

“I”m talking to you, y/n. Where were you ?” he asks again, repeating more firmly, in a way that he never talked to you before. You turn around after taking a deep breath. One that felt hard to inhale.

“With Johanna,” you say, finishing putting on your shirt in a hurry and looking down at your feet, because looking at his angry expression, something that almost never happened in years of knowing each other, felt worse than anything else. It was so rare that it was unreal to you. And it's all your fault.

“What ? How-” he starts to ask in disbelief, not quite understanding what happened.

“She escaped from the hospital. We bumped into each other. We spent the rest of the night together,” you explain directly, slowly raising back your eyes to finally gaze at him. His hand passes on his messy hair, then he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“And it didn’t occur to you that you could warn us with Mags ? When you didn’t come back, we were dead worried. I even went to search for you !” he exclaims, facing you as he opens an arm to emphasize his emotions. Your stomach drops to your heels, and you grip your shirt.

“You did ?” you ask in a smaller voice.

“Yes I did, y/n ! We thought something happened, with how things turned out after our discussion. You still are mentally unstable, and I was scared that you went through hard times, all alone, suffering or having hallucinations,” he retorts, frustration etched across his face. He then starts to walk in circles in the room. “I couldn’t sleep, worried sick for your safety. And now, here you are, back in the room after breakfast without saying anything. I can’t believe this…” he adds, shaking his head with disapprobation. 

You suddenly remember a conversation you had with him months ago. You asked Finnick when was the last time he got mad at you, which almost never happened. He answered that it was one hour ago, when you talked about volunteering to be a tribute in the Quarter Quell and following him in his suicidal quest of protecting Katniss Everdeen in the Arena. Now, things are different. From an outsider point of view, compared to the last time he was angry at you, now it looked silly. But deep down you knew it wasn’t. Because it was an accumulation of everything. Stress, worry, sadness, heartbreak. 

“I”m tired, y/n,” he ends up saying, sitting on the bed and taking his head in his hands. You stand straight on your spot, unable to move and looking at him with the realisation of your action and the consequences it brought. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize in a whisper. 

“Are you really ?” he scoffs. Finnick just scoffed at you with disdain. Oh no. He really was disappointed. Angry. 

“I am,” you answer truthfully, slowly approaching him. He doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You step closer. “I am really sorry. You’re right, I should have said something. I didn’t mean to cause you any harm. I’ll apologize to Mags too when I come back from training,” you continue. He sighs.

“Never do that again. You don’t understand how scared I was.” 

“I won’t. I promise,” you nod when answering that.

“Come on, we’ll be late to training. York won’t be happy,” he ends up announcing when he stands up from the bed and walks towards the door. You exhale and follow him.

The rest of the day, it feels incredibly slow. When arriving on the training grounds, Finnick helps you as always, but he doesn’t joke or tease with his charming and flirty persona. You could feel he still was shaken by what happened, and you were too. You kept remembering the fact that he wanted to marry you, then this morning how lost he looked during breakfast. You got distracted, to the point that York had to snap you out of it multiple times. She felt that something happened. But being none of her business, she instead asked you to concentrate.

At lunch, when you saw Mags, you apologized to her. She told you that she was worried, but as long as you were ok, it’s all that mattered to her. She ate with you at your table, preferring to make sure you and Finnick were alright instead of eating with Sae Boui-boui. 

The following days were the same, with a cold in between you and Finnick. It got warmer with time passing, but it affected the two of you greatly. You both heard each other cry, yet did nothing about it.

The only moment everything felt back like it always did, was when you had your nightmares. He never stopped to come calm you down. Because he was the only one that could. Mags managed to ease your worries, but in those moments, strangely only the feeling of Finnick’s arms wrapped around your shaking body made you calm down and fall back asleep.

You had news about Katniss, she was back to 13 since days now. She wasn’t injured as badly as you thought. Now that District 2 has allied with District 13, the rebels are taking a breather from the war to regroup. Fortifying supply lines, seeing to the wounded, reorganizing their troops. The Capitol, like 13 during the Dark Days, finds itself completely cut off from outside help as it holds the threat of nuclear attack over its enemies. Unlike District 13, the Capitol is not in a position to reinvent itself and become self-sufficient. 

To your surprise, this morning you were met with Katniss and Johanna on the same training ground as yours. 

“Katniss, Johanna, may I ask what the two of you are doing here ?” asks Finnick, approaching the girls in a smile, arms crossed behind his back. Katniss lightly hugs him, while he asks her if she’s doing better. The two friends exchange before he switches to Johanna, who exclaims she had to do something of her torturing boring days.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you smile warmly to Katniss, and she gives it back to you. “With Johanna we want to be part of the squads that will leave for the Capitol. So we’re here in hope that in four weeks the Assignment Board would deems us fit, our case being possibly reviewed,” she explains.

“It’s the same for y/n,” adds Johanna, nodding to you. Indeed, you explained to her how your training went. It’s what made her mainly eager to join you in this.

“Then I should call you soldier l/n,” says Katniss in what seems like a teasing smile. You look around before facing her back proudly, raising your chin.

“Well, today I’m upgrading to a new phase of training. I came to say goodbye to soldier York,” you explain before she widens her eyes slightly.

“Congratulations,” she says and Johanna claps her hands.

“She worked hard for it,” adds Finnick, looking at you. You gaze back at him, and he gives you a small smile. Your lips stretch as well. 

“I guess we won’t be training together today,” interrupts Katniss.

“Sadly no. But good luck, girls. May the odds…” you start to say, “be in our favor,” finish the three of them in mockery. You wave at them, walking towards York that finishes to supervise some students. She turns around and when she notices you, extends her hand. You shake it promptly.

“Congratulations, soldier l/n, for your hard work,” she says in her usual serious voice, but you smile and nod.

“Thank you, soldier York. I’ll continue to give my all,” you add, straightening your back in a military posture.

“That’s what I hope for. And thank you, soldier Odair, for assisting her training. That was an exemplary conduct,” she continues as she turns towards Finnick. They shake hands as well. He grins.

“Of course. Anything for her,” he answers, and him pronouncing this last sentence makes your heart fill with hope. After the last awkward days, hearing him say something that he used to claim everyday, warms you and lightens your mood.

“Then I won’t be keeping you here longer. Or you’ll be late to your new training phase,” she finishes before stepping back.

“Yes. Goodbye,” you bid farewell and leave for your new training ground in Finnick’s company.

“I hope you’re ready, it’s ten times more intense,” he says in your ear when you walk side by side.

“I’m not the one that backs away from a challenge,” you comment with confidence, yet you still have apprehension for what has to come. But the reminder of why you were doing this, to not let Finnick go alone again in a suicidal quest, and in case, die by his side, not like how you feared it when being hijacked, keeps you going. You then realize again that doing all this without a second thought could just confirm that you really loved him, and your feelings maybe never disappeared. You hope.

“I know. Me neither,” he says back after some seconds, looking at you in the eyes as if to communicate something deeper, before turning back his face towards in front of him. You swallow your saliva. You understand what he meant.

The morning and afternoon were indeed ten times worse than what you have been going through the past weeks. Way more intense, muscles exercises harder, shooting, running, crawling in the mud, fighting sessions, following commands, etc. You met someone called Boggs, one of the men that rescued you. He was nicer than he looked, and you quickly started to appreciate him. Lunch barely lasted some minutes of rest that you already had to go back to the training grounds. At the end of the day, your therapy session was like a blur, too tired to even remember what you were doing. The usual. Then dinner, shower, and finally sleep. 

It repeated, it was exhausting, but at least you were by Finnick’s side. Drills, weapons practice, lectures on tactics. Again and again. 

You are moved into an additional class, Finnick as well even though he already did them in the past with Gale. To your surprise, Johanna and Katniss too. You felt relieved to see two more friends of yours there. The soldiers simply call it the Block, but the tattoo on your arm lists it as S.S.C., short for Simulated Street Combat. Deep in 13, they’ve built an artificial Capitol city block. The instructor breaks you into squads of eight and you learn how to carry out missions, gaining a position, destroying a target, searching a home, as if you were really fighting your way through the Capitol. 

The thing’s rigged so that everything that can go wrong for you does. A false step triggers a land mine, a sniper appears on a rooftop, your gun jams, a crying child leads you into an ambush, your squadron leader, who’s just a voice on the program, gets hit by a mortar and you have to figure out what to do without orders. The enemy soldiers are dressed in Peacekeepers’ uniforms. They even gas you. Meaning you have to put on your mask on time, or else you would be knocked out for ten minutes.

It continues like this, to the point you eat, breath and sleep training. Finnick and you barely have time to talk, aside from breakfast, lunch and dinner, even though you both are half asleep, the one hour therapy session and finally at night. Because during your hour break in your schedule, you spend it by taking a nap.

One night, after having another wave of nightmares, Finnick keeps you in his arms to ease your mind. Mags is asleep, the whole word feels quiet. You raise your face to look at his eyes.

“Are you still mad at me for what happened ?” you ask in a whisper. He meets your eyes, then his hand comes on your cheek. Caressing your skin carefully.

“I’m not anymore, y/n. I was mostly very scared, and panicked,” he explains. You nod.

“Thank you, for everything you’re doing for me. Really,” you murmur before kissing his cheek. “I’m here too, for you… just so you know,” you add, and something in his eyes twinkle at your words and the feeling of your lips on his skin.

“I don’t want to add to your stress,” he answers, thumb brushing against your lips.

“Finnick, I’m here,” you affirm, taking his hand in yours. He stays silent before squeezing back your fingers. “Alright, alright. I trust you,” he whispers back. He trusts you. You fall asleep with a calmer mental state.

The next day, it feels lighter. You stretch your back as you walk side by side with Finnick to the dining hall, starved and already drooling at the idea of eating something. 

“After eating, before training… Do you want to go on a walk ?” you ask as you hold your trail of food and glance at Finnick, trying to initiate some moments with him. He always was the one that did since you were rescued from the Capitol, aside from back at the hospital when you had one hour free in your schedule to go around the District. So now, it was your turn. It works, because Finnick raises an eyebrow before turning his head towards you.

“Are you asking me out on a date ?” he asks in a teasing voice, his usual flirty smile stretching his lips, dimples showing. You chew the inside of your cheek. You don’t know why, but you feel oddly embarrassed. Even though you went on countless dates with him back in District 4. But it was before, and now is now.

“Yes, you can say that,” you admit slightly bashfully. He bites his lip for a second before shaking his head in amusement, his face radiant with happiness. Clearly, you made his day. And with something so simple. It makes you remember that your relationship with him was at its lowest point, but at least you only could go up. Just like at this moment.

You sit down at a table, where a girl called Delly is already eating her food. A charming and nice girl from District 12, helping out Peeta. She was very kind and easy to talk to. You both greet her. 

“That’s real beef, from District Ten,” she explains as she happily bites into it, and you smile. 

“I was dreaming at the idea of eating meat,” you reply and lick your lips at the mere smell of the dish. Your stomach growls.

“Fish too would be a blast,” adds Finnick as he smiles and wink at you, the way he always did before. It really started to feel like back to normal, even if it wasn’t true. But you grip yourself to any form of hope, even more after your argument that happened some weeks ago already. With your intense training, time flies by. 

“The ones from District 4,” you correct.

“Or the ones that I fished myself,” he retorts, making you chuckle as you then remember the lunches or dinners you spent in his Victor house, eating the smoked flesh of the fish with delicious vegetables, then sleeping like babies after stuffing yourself to the brim. 

His easy going nature and self-effacing humor are slowly coming back, while he asks questions to Delly and chat with you too. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. He even snaps you out of your thoughts whenever you stare too long at your food, intrusive sentences surging back in your mind. A soft whisper in your ear, and that’s all that works.

At the same time, Gale, Johanna and Katniss join the table. They participate in the conversation, even Katniss. The whole dining hall is rejuvenating thanks to the good meal you were having. Finnick is telling some ridiculous story about a sea turtle swimming off with his hat, and everyone laughs, even more you when you remember this moment since you were there too. 

Suddenly, you and Katniss realize Peeta is standing there. Directly across the table, behind the empty seat next to Johanna. Watching the girl. Katniss chokes momentarily as the gravy bread sticks in her throat. 

“Peeta !” exclaims Delly. “It’s so nice to see you out…and about.” 

Two large guards stand behind him. He holds his tray awkwardly, balanced on his fingertips since his wrists are shackled with a short chain between them. 

“You come to eat with us ?” you ask, and he simply nods as now he stares at you. 

“What’s with the fancy bracelets?” asks Johanna. 

“I’m not quite trustworthy yet,” says Peeta. “I can’t even sit here without your permission.” He indicates the guards with his head. 

“Sure he can sit here. We’re old friends,” says Johanna, patting the space beside her. The guards nod and Peeta takes a seat. 

“Peeta and I had adjoining cells in the Capitol. We’re very familiar with each other’s screams, right y/n ?” she says. You snap out of your thoughts, suddenly being remembered of the atrocious sounds of each other's screams of agony. You have a crisped smile on your face as you nod. Finnick shoots Johanna an angry look as his arm encircles you to keep you in check. 

“What ? My head doctor says I’m not supposed to censor my thoughts. It’s part of my therapy,” replies Johanna. The laughter stopped and the cheerfulness disappeared.

“You alright ?” asks Finnick in your ear. As always, he was at your beck and call. 

“Yes. And you ?” you reply, and he looks at you as if it was stupid for you to ask such a question when he was the one worried about you. But some weeks ago you promised yourself to change, and to be there for him. He just nods before his thumb caresses your arm. Then there’s a long silence while people pretend to eat.

“Y/n,” says Delly brightly, “did you know that Peeta told me how much of a good friend you were to him back at the Capitol ? He said he was glad that he could talk to you there.” 

You raise an eyebrow, surprised, and cautiously look across Johanna. “Thank you, Peeta,” you say.

“My pleasure, y/n,” says Peeta, and there is an old note of gentleness in his voice. 

“If we’re going to fit in that walk, we better go,” Finnick tells you. He arranges both of your trays so he can carry them in one hand, the other around your waist. “Good seeing you, Peeta.” 

“You be nice to her, Finnick. Or I might try and take her away from you,” he answers. It could be a joke, if the tone wasn’t so cold.

You freeze, and look at the boy, eyes wide open. Everything it conveys is wrong. The open distrust of Finnick, the implication that Peeta has his eye on you, that you could desert Finnick, that Katniss does not even exist. 

“Oh, Peeta,” says Finnick lightly. “Don’t make me sorry I restarted your heart.” 

He leads you away after giving Katniss a concerned glance. “Well, that was something,” you whisper. He nods. You look at him. Finnick wasn’t the jealous type, even more towards Peeta as he still only was a boy, a tormented one on top of it. Finnick was concerned for him and Katniss, more than anything as childish as jealousy. Yet you couldn’t help but feel the way his fingers tighten slightly their grip around your waist when you leave the dining hall. Maybe, just maybe, there is a hint of insecurity, some jealousy, at Peeta’s threats. But not enough for him to show it. 

His hand appears in front of you, and you look at his palm.

“During our walk, wanna hold hands ?” he asks softly, giving you the sweetest look the green of his eyes could behold. You smile, fingers intertwining, warmth shared. 

Then you walk. To forget, and to rebuild. Something new, and maybe even stronger than it ever did.  

chapter 9 coming soon... we're close to enter the Capitol part of the fanfiction, the third and last. What do you guys think so far of the last chapters ? Thank you for reading !

Some art I did here, just wanted to share it :

[maeedrg]

I loveee ur fic until panem is free ❤️❤️ pls dont kill finnick i will sob for DAYS

Thank you for your message💋💋 !!! And we all sob at the idea of Finnick dying like in the book 💔… but I keep the surprise for when the time will come ;)

[maeedrg]

UNTIL PANEM IS FREE

chapter 7

75th Hunger Games Finnick Odair x reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, currently reading ch7, ch8, etc.

synopsis : rescued by District 13, being hijacked, you learn how to trust back Finnick, and fight against your traumas. But it’s not as smooth as you thought.

words count : 9.k

warnings : Finnick being angry, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff, slow burn, physical violence, therapy, mentions of torture and death, panic attack.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ autor’s note : I finished reading Snow’s book and now I’m currently reading Haymitch’s book. Least to say, I’m devastated.

trailer of the chapter

_________________________________________________

Mags, sitting on your bed, smiles at you gently when she stands up to greet you properly. You shake, then rush towards Mags and take her in your arms. Pearls of tears are forming at the corner of your eyes, comfort brought to you as you finally remember how loved you felt in the old woman’s arms. 

“Mags, I can’t believe you’re here. I thought when I went into the Arena that I would die and never see you again,” you sob, while she answers that she’s here for you, kissing your forehead like a mother would and wiping your tears away, gently. 

She guides you to the bed, takes your hands and asks you how you are.

“Right now, I’m fine. In general, I’m not. But it’s getting better. The doctors and my psychologist said that if it continues like that, I could leave the hospital sooner than expected,” you explain, “and you ? Oh Mags… how is life in 13 going for you ?” you ask next.

She explains that she felt great. She went through worse, as she lived during the war and the first Hunger Games. The military lifestyle of 13 was nothing to be worried about, on the contrary, she felt nice in here. As long as she had the two of you, mentioning Finnick, she would be happy. 

You don’t say how with Finnick it’s been going since you met with him again when you came back from the Capitol. She doesn’t too, surely because she understood you needed time. Instead, she takes care of you and even proposes to be by your side until you fall asleep.

It’s with her loving touch that you close your eyes and rest for the first time with only one nightmare, and soft dreams, since the announcement of the Quarter Quell. Because here you were safe, and Mags was warm, like the sun on the beach. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

The next morning, Finnick came again. You were sitting on your bed, after breakfast. He was by your side, staring at you intently while your fingers hesitantly approached his face. In a breath, the tip of your nails brushes his skin.

“It was pale,” you start to murmur, recalling your visions, not knowing if it was real or not anymore. Finnick kept saying the contrary, that it was all in your head. You slowly started to believe him, erasing the idea that he was a mutt and not the real Finnick. But it was slow.

He shivers at your touch, swallowing his saliva and letting you caress him. He craved your hands on his body, so much, that he didn’t dare to move, scared it would make you back away.

“Here,” you continue, fingers reaching his lips. The green of his eyes, intense, bore onto yours, “red, tainted with blood.” Lord, Finnick has to restrain himself from softly kissing you. 

“Y/n…” he whispers your name desperately. Sliding your hand up, your thumb caresses under his green orbs. 

“Your eyes were staring at me with so much… so much sadness, betrayal, yet overall you did it full of love. Even though I was, I was.. I was killing you with my own hands !” you exclaim, shaking and choking on a breath. Your limbs contract, and Finnick instantly grabs your backing hand.

“It never happened. Trust me. But if it did, I’ll still love you no matter what,” he explains, bringing your knuckles to his lips, pressing his mouth in a gentle way. “The day I’ll die, I want it to be by your side, and by your hands only,” he adds, pupils not leaving yours. His lips worship your fingers, trailing down your palm and reaching your pulse point on your wrist.

“Finnick, don’t say that,” you protest, gasping. “Never blame yourself for something I won't even be mad at,” he cuts you, squeezing your hand and kissing one last time your skin. It gets silent, both of you lost in thoughts. For the blond, he feels grateful that you accepted his touch, not like yesterday when you were yelling at him to leave you alone, insulting him in the worst ways possible. Yet, now, you leaned into his touch. 

Something happened in your heart. As if you were back the original you. How you always snuggled his side, watching the sun setting after a busy day in the sea. Or searching for his body warmth in cold nights, preferring to cuddle his skin rather than the blanket. But it’s distant, this feeling. Echoing in the back of your mind. A duality with your utter fear and mistrust with him, not entirely sure you could entirely believe him and that he wasn’t a mutt wearing Finnick’s skin.

You squeeze back his hand, ready to say something, confess the weird mixed feelings you were having, when the door opens. Teff Silverlock, your psychologist, enters the room with a notepad in his hands. You instantly yank your hand from his grasp and back away, your face showing a swirl of negative emotions towards Finnick. The blond is disappointed, his heart clenching, but he keeps it from himself and simply looks at the psychologist with bitterness for interrupting this intimate moment with you. 

“Good morning miss y/n, sorry to interrupt, but I have to update your schedule today. There would be some changes,” announces the man as he nods to Finnick in a hello. He doesn’t answer, feeling slightly petty but decided it was childish so he nods in return after some seconds. 

“It’s alright, you didn’t interrupt something,” you say defensively, still feeling on guard. Teff raises an eyebrow and Finnick directly takes a rope from his pocket to tie and untie, hoping it will ease his nerves and how much he wanted to cry right now at your words. Being dismissed like nothing by the person he loved the most hurted more than anything, but he knew it wasn’t your fault, it never will be. So he takes it and accepts it, doing his best to bear with it. 

“I see…” murmurs Teff suspiciously and writes something on his notepad before sitting on a chair next to the hospital bed, “well, let’s start. Two things. First going to see Peeta, to test your trauma bond and how you will react to each other. Maybe interesting things will come out. Then after lunch, we’ll try something with Finnick this time,” he explains. 

“Is Peeta in the mental capacity to talk with y/n ?” Finnick asks, untying his knot and looking at you then Teff for a second. 

“From what I analyzed, the two of them became quite close during their captivity at the Capitol. Y/n, you told me yourself that you were in the same room as him,” says Teff truthfully. 

“Yes… we were getting tortured too. I can say we became sort of friends,” you confirm in a nod. 

“As long as she’s safe. Peeta is still only a teenager after all,” adds Finnick in a sigh and rubbing his face, before going back to his rope and mindlessly toying with it. Betraying how he was really feeling right now. 

“We already did some tests. He only becomes hostile when Katniss is mentioned. As long as she’s not, everything will be fine,” says the psychologist. 

“Yes, Peeta is not a monster,” you defend the teenager in a frown. “But… What will be the test with Finnick ?” you add after some seconds, quite hesitantly. Finnick looks at you. 

“We’ll talk about it after lunch. Don’t think too much about it, y/n. Focus on Peeta,” refuses the psychologist as he shakes his head and then his hands. You look disappointed but end up sighing. Finnick doesn’t say anything. 

“Let’s go now. And Finnick, may I have a word with you meanwhile ?” says Teff, as you stand up and follow him out of your bedroom. Finnick approves, follows as well, and gets next to Silverlock. 

You walk through the corridor and arrive at Peeta's room, peeking through the glass and seeing the blond sitting on his bed with a nurse attending to his needs. You look at the nurse, he is saying something but you don’t pay attention. Peeta looked quite the same as in the Capitol, but he clearly gained back some weight after the rescue. A few colors paint his pale cheeks, aside from his bruises. It was reassuring. At least he was physically getting better. 

“Here we are. If you feel uncomfortable, make a sign and we’ll make you leave the room. Alright ?” says Teff. “Alright,” you nod. Finnick restrains himself from grabbing your hand, wanting to say that he would be close if you needed anything. But with your sudden reaction earlier, he didn’t want to risk triggering you. Even more before seeing Peeta. 

The nurse opens the door, greeting the three of you before leaving. You enter the room, and slowly approach Peeta. When he notices you, he stops moving and at first looks intrigued.

“Hey. Can I sit next to you ?” you ask softly, a small smile on your lips at the sight of him. Somewhat, you felt reassured to have someone that went through the same as you did, being by your side. 

“Yes,” he starts, relaxing slightly and allowing you to sit next to him, “you don’t look as bad as you did last time I saw you,” his voice is raspy when he continued, a hint of a sarcastic smile on his tired face, but it lasts only a second. You chuckle tiredly.  

“You do too. How is your voice ? It looks like you didn’t talk for days,” you ask. “I didn’t, and then I asked for the goat,” he answers vaguely. 

“The goat ?” you question confused, raising an eyebrow. 

“The goat of Prim, the sister of… Katniss…” he explains distantly, before his eyes turn hollow when he mentions the name of the girl. He tightens his grip on his cloth, breathing more loudly and then tweaking his head. “Do you still have nightmares ? I feel like I’m going insane, I don’t know what is-” 

“Real or not ? Same,” you interrupt him and take your face in your hands, eyes losing their past vigor. Flashes of memories appear in your head, making you greet your teeth. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t stay with me right now,” suddenly says Peeta in a broken voice. He moves his head again, and lets out what seems like a groan of pain. 

“Why ?” you ask in a shaking voice, snapping out of your thoughts. 

“I attack people. I’m not the same as before. I’m going completely crazy, y/n… completely crazy,” he hits his head with his hand, yet you don’t do anything to stop him. 

“I’m too. I attacked Finnick, and you already did attack me in the past. So if that can reassure you, I’ll handle it,” you answer in a very nervous laugh. Peeta looks at you mid hurting his forehead. 

“I promised that I won’t attack you anymore. I don’t want to. I don’t want to hurt anybody, I swear, I just… it’s, I’m not myself. Nothing is like before,” he breathes in while answering. 

“Nothing will ever be. And the hallucinations…” you whisper, your heart starting to beat faster. Again, the images of torture, blood, killing, despair and agony come back all at once. 

“But what if they aren’t ? I keep questioning myself,” retorts Peeta as he grabs your arm. You jerk your head and turn around to face him. 

“You mean that Finnick is actually a mutt and that I did kill him with my own hands ?” you suddenly ask in a harsh voice, and Peeta has a motion of backing away. “I killed him. You’re right, he is a mutt. I killed him. I’m not only a murderer for killing innocent people in the games, I’m a monster too !” you yell, and Peeta lets go of your arm and points to somewhere on the wall, behind the glass that separates the two of you from outside the room. 

“It’s Katniss, all Katniss’ fault !” he protests.

“No, it’s mine ! Mine ! Do you understand ?! Mine !” you yell back, and then you approach him suddenly. “My hands killed him, my hands… did this !” you suddenly grab him and put your hand around his neck and the other holding his cloth threateningly. 

Peeta pushes you away, but in a sudden fury you jump on him violently and force him to look at your hand with unmeasured strength.

“Look at my hands ! Full of blood ! His blood !” you scream and he looks at you in confusion before frowning and attempting to attack you back. You yelp and protest harder.

They thought you might not be safe from him, but actually, Peeta wasn’t safe from you. 

Suddenly, you feel two strong arms lifting you from Peeta and forcing you to back away. The door was open with a nurse and Teff rushing inside. 

“Y/n !” exclaims a voice behind you. Finnick. He was grasping your arms to stop you from doing more damages. 

“Get away from me ! I have to show- to… show…” you mumble and lose your train of thoughts, squirming and slowly realizing what you just did. Finnick makes you back away again, stepping three meters behind. His grip is unbreakable. 

“Y/n, repeat after me. Killing me and whatsoever are all but an illusion, but you being in district 13, safe, and me being alive, is real,” he says as he turns you around to face him and takes your face in his hands, the green of his eyes boring into yours. He stuffs his rope in your palms, and you instinctively start to play with it and tie a knot as you mumble “Finnick is alive, I didn’t kill him. Finnick is alive, I didn’t kill him,” in repeat. 

“Hey, be careful with him,” Finnick says to a nurse putting back Peeta on the bed, showing concern for the boy as well. 

Teff Silverlock comes back from calming down Peeta, and brings the two of you out of the dorm, his hands on your back. You don’t even pay attention to him as he says something to you. 

“We should have never let the two of them meet, it was too early. They still are both unstable,” says Finnick, frowning. 

“It was a test, and even if the result was negative, it helped me to better understand the mental state of Miss y/n here,” answers Teff pragmatically. You weren’t listening to the conversation, still recovering from what happened and repeating over and over again the sentence Finnick told you to say. Your fingers are busy with the knot. Yet, on the other hand, Finnick snaps at the psychologist.

“Are you treating her like a lab rat ?! She is not a patient you can experience with. She needs active therapy, not some tests thrown to her face without any preparation !” he exclaims as he turns around to face the old man. He puts his hands in front of himself, like a barrier to the anger of the blond.

“Easy now. It’s my job, I know what I’m doing, Odair,” Teff replies.

“It doesn’t look like it,” answers Finnick, going back to you and gently grabbing your hand. He makes you follow him towards your room, opening the door and inviting you to enter it first like a true gentleman. 

“Where are you going ? She needs to go to lunch, and then we have to start the second phase of her therapy. With what we talked earlier,” asks Teff as he walks faster to arrive behind Finnick.

“I refuse to do it today. She needs rest,” retorts Finnick firmly, not even giving one last look to Teff, slamming the door right at his nose before he could answer. Yet, Teff doesn’t seem hurt about it and simply scribbles something on his note pad, whispering to himself “then tomorrow.” 

Inside the room, Finnick guides you towards the bed and makes you sit back down on it. He surely wasn’t allowed to stay with you without any given permission, but in all honesty, he didn’t care about it right now.

“He is no better than Heavensbee,” he whispers, rubbing his face then sighing longly.

“Heavensbee ? He’s from the Capitol, so no wonder. But Teff Silverlock is … special,” you suddenly say, seemingly in better mental shape than some minutes ago. Finnick is at first startled, but then gains back composure.

“Well, him being special made you and Peeta in danger,” retorts Finnick while massaging his forehead to try to ease the tension and the throbbing headache he had. 

“It’s better I don’t see Peeta from now on, or maybe anyone else… What just happened, I didn’t even realize until I snapped out of it. I should be kept in a straightjacket and with no interactions with others. Even less with you,” you say in a defeated tone, finishing the knot and giving it to Finnick. 

“Hey, y/n. You’re not some type of monster as you describe yourself. You’re still recovering. Give yourself some time. I don’t think isolating is the best option,” he answers more calmly, standing up to go on his knees in front of you. Wanting to look unthreatening to you, even very, very, very gently holding your hand, making sure you won’t react negatively to his touch. You look at him showing his vulnerability to you, staring down at his face.

“I attacked Peeta, I attacked you… who’s next, Finnick ? Who ? I’m like a bomb about to explode at any given moment !” you retort loudly, fingers twitching before your voice wavers in a broken crack. 

“I’ll make sure that you don’t attack anybody else or hurt yourself, I promise,” he says calmly, his eyes never leaving yours, not even a second. You huff bitterly, becoming mad, but mostly mad at yourself and being tired of all this and your mood swings. 

“You’re not a psychologist, you don’t even know what you are doing,” you retort in a mean way. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I’ll never let you down, never,” he shakes his head and squeezes your knuckles. “And I believe in you and your own recovery. Even if I don’t fully believe in the capacities of Silverlock, you still had some progress since you came back from the Capitol. So nothing is doomed. Alright ?”

A good minute passes, not answering, thinking about his words. It’s true that your nights were filled with less nightmares, and your intrusive thoughts weren’t as numerous as before. But your aggressive problems were the same as Peeta. Then, you swallow and lean towards him. 

“You really love me that much ? To the point it hurts you more than anything ?” you ask. Normally, you wouldn’t have the need to question his love, because the you of the past knows how devoted he was to you and how devoted you were to him. To the point you went with him to the Quarter Quell. But things were different now, you were different. 

“If loving you means getting myself hurt, then I’ll gladly take the hit,” he replies as if it was the simplest answer he could give you. 

“That’s not healthy,” you retort, gazing away from him when you feel your heart throbbing at his words. 

“I never was mentally stable since my games, y/n. I assure you, loving you brings me solace, more than anything in this world. And some scratches and bites are nothing for me, compared to what I went through,” he sighs, answering as he slowly stands up and cups your cheek with his free hand, the other still holding your fingers. 

Then, you do remember. All the things he went through. His games, The Capitol selling him from a young age, losing his mind and only staying sane thanks to you and Mags. You part your lips, for a second feeling ashamed. 

“I don’t deserve what you are doing for me,” you end up saying, looking down, but his hand on your cheek brings it back upwards.

“You deserve the world,” he answers with so much devotion it shakes you. His thumb softly caresses your cheek, tenderly. 

“I don’t,” you protest. 

“I’ll offer you anything I could ever give you. Including my life. So don’t say the contrary, because you know it’s true,” Finnick says, smiling lightly, the corner of his mouth forming lines that always illuminated his face. Feeling like you couldn’t retort anything else, you shut your mouth. Finnick leans slowly towards you, staring at your lips for a second. He takes a breath before lending a kiss on your forehead, tenderly. It electrifies your whole body 

“I’ll bring us lunch,” he breaks the quietness before backing up and leaving you some space. For a solid second you thought he would have kissed your lips, but he didn’t. You felt disappointed, but you knew that Finnick did it for your sake, to not force you into anything you might not want, even more that without even saying it, the both of you knew that things were different now in between the two of you. You knew Finnick still saw you as the love of his life, but for you, it was complicated now. 

He leaves you alone, and it takes some time for him to come back with the food. You suppose he had to debate to be with you since he didn’t receive any permission from Teff Silverlock. 

You ate in silence, Finnick trying to make some conversation. Answering evasive sentences, you ended up warming a bit and chatting more freely. You forgot how your supposed lover was someone very easy to live with and talk to. Until the both of you started to talk about your stay at the Capitol. You were the one that mentioned it. 

“When I learnt of your death, I was spiraling so badly that I even forgot who you were,” you admitted. 

“My whole existence ?” he asks, looking at you. You finish your plate and put the trail on the little night table next to your bed. 

“Yes, but then it came back in flashes of memories, in my dream, mixed with your death,” you explain, brushing your forehead with your hand and sniffing a bit. Finnick sighs softly and puts away his trail of food too. 

“Does this still happen ?” he questions. 

“Sometimes, rarely now. Because you are with me,” you say looking back at his eyes, and he smiles. A sweet smile just for you only. 

“I’ll always be,” he whispers sincerely. Without realizing, a tiny smile forms on your lips as well. You look down at your hands, then ask in a soft whisper, as if you were scared of the answer, “did you forget about me too ?”

“Never. How could I ?” he shakes his head, his voice raspy. 

“Did you wish I was dead ?”

“I wished we were all dead, yes,” he affirms, looking away. Like this, he seemed like a lost child, and it broke your heart. Because you realized you weren’t the only one in need of therapy and comfort. He needed you more than anything else, and you couldn’t even provide him with it. 

“It would have been better,” you whisper in defeat. 

“But I have you back now, and it’s all that matters,” he shakes his head and turns towards you, smiling again, a broken one. 

“You don’t have me back completely. It’s not the same,” you answer, voice shaky. You bite your lip in frustration and dig your nails in your palm. 

“I have you. Half or complete, as long as I know you are by my side, safe and sound, it’s all I need,” he retorts. You feel fingers crawling on your wrist and sliding in your palm, intertwining with your hand to stop you from hurting your skin with your nails. Again, you get lost in his eyes. 

Your gaze slides on his body, staring at his clothes, his hands, his neck. He was paler, without sun his tan slowly fading away. He still was fit, remembering that here in 13 he had to follow training everyday. Even if he skipped some of them to come see you at the hospital. Maybe they were rescheduled so he would still have his daily sport ? But then, you notice a piece of paper peaking from a pocket on his jacket. 

“What is-” you start to ask, reaching for it. He lets you do so, before you are confronted to your own face on that tiny square. 

“A picture of you,” he says, looking at it with so much softness that your heart melted a little for a second. 

“Why do you have it ?” you question, looking at it. It was you from District 4, before the Quartel Quell. One year after you won your games. You don’t remember taking this picture, nor that he even had it, even less on him in District 13. 

“When you were in the Capitol, looking at your face eased my mind. I missed you so much. It was the only thing I had left of you,” Finnick admits. You don’t answer and put back the picture in his pocket, hands lingering on the tissue. You grasp it, take a breath and raise your head. You wanted to say so many things, to plead his forgiveness, to wish everything was back to normal, but no words escape your mouth. 

At the same time, a nurse calls him when she opens the door, saying his time with you is over. Finnick sighs, kisses the top of your head and stands up. 

“I have to go. See you tomorrow,” he caresses your cheek and turns around, walking away. The door closes behind him. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

The next day, you didn’t see Finnick. You spent the morning and afternoon with Johanna and Mags, playing cards and talking, aside from your daily treatment. Mags ended up creating bracelets with ties, using her skills in knots to make them efficiently. Your and Johanna’s arms were decorated to the brim, but sadly you had to take them off, not allowed to wear decoration. District 13 was very strict with its rules. Everyone dressed the same. No singularities. 

When shower time ticked on the clock, instead of going with Johanna, Teff Silverlock came to take you with him.

“Where are we going ?” you ask as you follow the old man towards a part of the hospital that you didn’t know nor stepped a foot inside. 

“To the next phase of your therapy,” he explains before you come to a halt and are greeted by Finnick, approaching you in a welcoming smile.

“Good evening, y/n,” he says warmly. “What is the next phase ?” you question wary, not very reassured at the idea of going through something that would trigger you again.

“Taking a bath, Finnick will help you,” says your psychologist, stopping in front of a door. You open your eyes wider at the mention, your stomach dropping at the idea of doing it. “Going under… water ? No no no no, I’ll go clean myself with a damp cloth like Johanna, goodbye,” you instantly refuse and turn around to leave, images of getting drowned as a torture back in the Capitol coming back to mind in full force. Yet, your wrist gets gripped by the hand of Finnick. 

“Y/n, honey. Trust me,” he says instantly, turning you around so you could face him. His hands cup your cheeks. “I’ll be here on every step. Take it as being back in District 4 when we went to swim on the beach. Alright ?” he proposes, thumb caressing the skin under your eye. 

“I don’t know if I can,” you murmur. 

“It’s okay if you don’t succeed at the first try,” he reassured you. He then gives a side eye to Teff, still not sure it was the best idea to make you go through this, but since he was here, he would do his best to help you. 

“Let’s go,” says Teff Silverlock. You take a deep breath. It was time for the next phase of your therapy. 

When you arrive in front of the bath, it’s a square, not like the one you used back in District 4. At the sight of the water, you instantly contract your muscles and intend to back away. Finnick lets you do so, not wanting to corner you in something you would scream about. 

“Now, y/n, you can keep your hospital dress if you prefer. Finnick will go first in the water, then it will be your turn. He’ll help you,” starts to explain Teff Silverlock, pointing at the blond then at the bath. You shake your head, one glance at Finnick in hope to find the old you, the one that loved to swim with him. You don’t. Teff notices your inner turmoil and adds, “meanwhile, I will be behind this glass, taking notes. If anything happens, I’ll enter. We have some… sedatives.”

Finnick frowns and turns abruptly around towards the man. “We agreed to not drug her. That was my deal to accept doing this,” he protests, his calm behavior weakening. You open your eyes wider. 

“I agreed during the beginning, not during the process if it gets too complicated,” defends Teff, unbothered and smiling a bit. You swallow your saliva, take a deep breath while Finnick continues to debate about it with your psychologist. Your comfort was his top priority, experience and results top Teff’s priority. Two opposites. 

You approach the bath slowly and tighten your fingers around your gown when looking at the water. It actually smelled like salt, the beach. Maybe they made it on purpose to make you remember your life before the Quarter Quell. That wasn’t a total bad idea, but for now, all you could think about was the tsunami that happened during your games or the drowning torture you went through. Not a romantic moment swimming in the waves with Finnick. But you want to get better, because you knew staying like this would just hurt the man that you once loved, and maybe still loved to this day but weren’t sure of it. So you turn on your heels and look at Silverlock. 

“We can start,” you say firmly, scared if you didn’t you would have backed away. The old man smiles, satisfied. Finnick approaches you and asks if you are sure, you simply nod.

“Good. Finnick, I’ll give you the honor to go in the bath. And remember, y/n, breath,” says your psychologist before walking away and opening a glass-like-door, then standing behind it. 

Finnick takes off his shirt, then his pants. You look at his skin for some seconds without an ounce of shame, then look away. You didn’t know why, but you felt like a teenage girl for a second, even though what was supposed to happen next was nothing but cute. He enters the water, relishing in the coziness it gave him. Then, his arms open. Inviting you inside.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says calmly. The old you would have jumped right up and collided against his torso. The present you is hesitant, and takes a solid five minutes before finally moving forward. Even if it lasted long, Finnick stayed in front of you, ready to embrace you.

Slowly, you take his hand. His fingers press yours, his thumb caresses your skin. Up and down, slow motion, to ease your nerves. One foot, it dips a bit. 

“That’s good,” he comments, smiling at you. But you don’t accept what he said, because it was only the beginning. You panic when being completely in water, with the feeling of being surrounded by it. Just one limb was alright. But your whole body ? A nightmare. 

Your leg, then your second. You now were standing in the bath, too scared to squat down.

“You already are doing an amazing job, y/n,” he congrats.

“I’m too scared,” you say, shaking. 

“It’s alright,” he answers, kissing your knuckles. 

“I’ll drown,” you protest. 

“I’m here, you won’t,” he retorts. You move your head and breathe more loudly. Terrified. 

“Finnick, I can’t move, I can’t,” you explain, eyes scanning around then at him, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 

“It’s alright, I have all day. Take all the time you need, honey,” he answers so sweetly and with so much persuasion, as if it was the most natural thing to say, to do, like he had nothing else in his schedule aside from you. 

You end up nodding, then wait. After some thoughts, fighting against your inner demons and memories coming back, you finally squat down.

“I can’t do more,” you announce, greeting your teeth. 

“Do you want to stop for today ?” Finnick asks gently. 

“If I do, I won’t be satisfied. I will be mad at myself for failing,” you refuse, tensed. 

“This is not failing, this is going step by step,” he explains, brushing his thumb against yours now. You take a shuddering breath, lifting your head then looking right at his green orbs. 

“Finnick, do me a favor. Put me in the water with you, even if I protest and even if I scream,” you say seriously. Finnick, frowns, hesitant. 

“Did Silverlock tell you to do that ?” he asks. Because, with the way you explained it, it looked like the fashion of Teff to forces you into doing triggering things. 

“No, it’s coming from me,” you answer. Finnick sighs lightly. 

“Y/n, I don’t want you to scream of terror and be scared to the bone. I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this on your first try,” he says unsure. 

“I trust you to handle me if things get too violent,” you whisper, admitting something that Finnick didn’t expect hearing coming from you, after how you acted around him since you got hijacked. 

But, with how things turned out, how you always got mean, rejecting, even violent, Finnick always managed to handle things getting thrown at him when it was about you. It’s for that you knew you could put all your faith in him. You could rely on Finnick, to heal, and in hope to never hurt him again. He needed as much attention and care as you did, and you knew that Mags couldn’t fully give him what he craved the most. Meaning you. It’s for that you had to change.

“They’ll give you a sedative, y/n,” he ends up saying, warning you. 

“I don’t want to, it will just make me unable to fully face my fear. Stop them from doing so,” you plead.

A deep sigh, hesitance, then acceptance. 

“Alright, alright…. Come here,” he says, bracing yourself for what would come. His arms, around your body. His wet skin wraps yours, rocking you against his torso. Then, he slowly drags you inside the bath. You stiffen like a statue, and when the water reaches your waist, you yelp.

You let out a broken whine, without realizing moving in an attempt to escape. Your limbs frequently jerk, as if you were drowning, to bring you back to the surface. Even if actually you were in no danger. Finnick whispers for you to breathe, like what your psychologist told you to do. It’s ragged, heart beating wild and flashes of images come all at once. You felt like you were under water, trapped, and that soon you would lose your breath and die.

The only things that manage to keep you slightly grounded are the whispers of Finnick in the crook of your ear, and the feeling of his body sticking to yours and never letting you go. It helps to know you weren’t alone in this, but it still feels terrifying. When the water reaches your shoulder, you scream loudly, and he tightens his grip around you, but in a way that doesn’t feel suffocating, more like a warm embrace englobing you. It continues like that, and Teff Silverlock comes back with nurses, one of them holding a syringe. When he understands what was inside, he lifts you up in the air, holding you bridestyle and steps out of the bath. 

“I think it’s enough,” he says. You calm down when your body feels the cold air surrounding you instead of the water. You try to catch your breath. 

“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Teff Silverlock says as he shows the other nurses to escort the both of you towards your room. They wrap towels around you, and without a care in the world of walking half naked, he goes in the corridor like this. Finnick thinks about how much he hates your psychologist for dismissing what happened so casually, but instead he focuses on you. Once you are back in your room, he keeps you in his arms, nurses putting dry clothes next to you and leaving the room to give some privacy after making sure that everything is ok. 

Your cheek against his damp skin, you slowly let loose and flutter your eyes, realizing you were back inside your hospital room. Finnick’s hand was on your cheek, brushing your skin in a reassuring way. 

“I failed…” you whisper.

“Hey, you managed to be completely in the water. Even if you panicked, that’s already a big step ! I’m so proud of you, y/n. I really do,” he says when you pay attention to him after your emotions get more stable. You look back up at his eyes, face closer to his and fingers digging in his shoulders, arms still wrapped around his neck. 

“I just want to finally leave this hospital, Finnick. Be back to the old me,” you confess.

“You are doing great, you will soon be able to leave the hospital,” he reassures you.

“When I do, will I be in the same room as you ?” you ask, unsure. You didn’t even know if you really wanted to be in the same room as him. Because what if you went again into psychosis, hurting him, unable to control yourself nor your thoughts ?

“If you want, I’ll do my best to make it possible. District 13 has very strict rules,” he agrees, a soft smile forming on his lips.

“Mags is in the room next to yours, she told me,” you say, sighing as you relax again in his arms. You didn’t even think about changing your dripping clothes. Nor Finnick did.

“She did. She will be our neighbor, just like in District 4. Whenever we will have time, we’ll go spend time with her,” he proposes, fingers caressing your forehead and wiping remaining drops of water.

“And training ?” you question. “It’s obligatory, but I don’t know if you will be in the same phase of training as mine. It’s for that I’ll retrograde to be with you,” he explains. You then realize how devoted he is once again.

“You do so much for me, Finnick. When will I be here for you too ?” you sigh with despair as you sit back up on his lap, turning slightly to face him. A pained smile forms on his face and he shakes his head. But you feel guilty, so guilty.

“You already did a lot, y/n. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, and focus on you,” he answers, but you refuse, frowning deeply. 

“That’s exactly what I mean. I did. In the past. Now, all I bring you is misery,” you retort, angry at yourself.

“We already talked about this, y/n, and-” he starts to respond, “I’ll be here for you. I want to get better…” you interrupt him by turning your face in front of him, eyes drowning in his green orbs. Your hands around him, one on his nape and the other on his cheek. You get closer, nose brushing his, and breathes mingling “...for you,” you confess. His smile weavers, eyes looking down at your lips with tentation, like the forbidden fruit. He aches, and you do too. But you were too scared, so instead of his lips, you kissed his forehead like he always did to you. 

Finnick has to swallow back tears when he feels your mouth landing with carefulness on his skin. Having you acting so delicate, and caring, even for just a second, reminds him of all the time the two of you spent together glued to each other. To the point that back in District 4, when you were in private, the cheesiness and overwhelming love and affection never bothered you. Because that’s how the two of you were, being apart feeling like torture.

“I think I need to go back to my quarters,” he announces, putting you on the bed and standing up. You look at him a bit surprised, his gaze avoidant when he puts back clothes on.

“I thought you had all day,” you say, raising your eyebrows, questioning his actions. Instead, he kisses your cheek and turns his back to you.

“See you tomorrow, y/n,” he says, walking towards the door of your hospital room. The glass reflects his face, and before he leaves, you notice tears streaming down his face. Oh. Your stomach twists painfully. You made him leave, because he couldn’t bear holding and hiding his emotions in front of you. Not anymore for today.

How long will you continue to hurt him ? Loving you will never bring peace to Finnick Odair. Not until you were free, nor Panem.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

Days pass. One week and a half. You continued your therapy, and with surprise, you slowly started to overcome your fear of being in water. Johanna didn’t show it, but even though she was happy that you were getting better, she felt lonely when washing herself without you anymore. Instead, when you weren’t with Finnick, you spent all your time with her and Mags. Since Mags was very old, they were lenient on her schedule.

Finnick stayed the same, and during the past days, you barely snapped at him anymore, nor accused him of being a mutt. Yet, there was this distance in between the two of you, that you knew affected him greatly no matter how much he smiled at you.

You saw Katniss, one day, as she wanted to check on Peeta. What she said to you was in a loop in your mind. “I couldn’t stay mad at someone that was crying all the time,” she explained. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, Finnick…” you whisper in realization. 

“When he and I learnt about you and Peeta being captured by the Capitol, we went completely… crazy, more like mentally unstable, as said the doctors,” she scoffs slightly. You look at her, as you vaguely heard about that. “Finnick cried all the time, he still does,” she adds, looking back at you. You swallow your saliva.

“Still ?” you ask shocked. “Yes,” she confirms, nodding, her face showing some guilt to announce this when she realizes how devastated you looked.

“Thank you, by the way… For what you did with Peeta. I mean, in the Arena, saving him. And too, becoming his friend when being at the Capitol,” she changes subject. 

“How did you know ?” She smiles bitterly.

“Last time I went to see him, he screamed at me that you kept defending me in the Capitol, trying to convince him that I wasn’t a mutt… and that I surely brainwashed you to say so,” she explains.

“I see…” you whisper, recalling the memories of Peeta hurting you when mentioning Katniss. “Don’t be too mad at him, we both don’t really know what is real or not. I did the same to Finnick,” you defend him, more like yourself. “Maybe I should go see him right now,” you add in a whisper, standing up.

“He’s not in the hospital, you won’t be able to see him,” she says, her grey eyes following your movement.

“I got permission from my psychologist to have one hour a day to wander around the District aside from my room. Like that, he said I’ll get more used to life in 13 before I fully can leave the hospital,” you respond.

“Oh, alright. It’s rest time in our schedule right now, so he’s in his room,” she explains as she shows you her wrist, ink marked on her skin with a schedule on it. You look at it, the same one Finnick had on his wrist everyday. You’ll have one too.

“Goodbye, y/n. We won’t see each other for a while, I think,” she says before you part ways. 

“Why ?” you ask surprised, turning around.

“I’m going to District 2 soon, for a mission,” she explains vaguely. You nod, smile a bit at her before giving her a small hug. The girl is a bit awkward, but gives back the affection, which makes you chuckle softly.

“Alright, thanks for visiting me. Goodbye, Katniss,” you announce and then walk away. You went to ask Silverlock if he knew where Finnick’s room was, and he sends a nurse with you to accompany you and walk you there.

You leave the hospital for the second time, looking around, and receiving stares as well when people see you walk in your attire different from everybody else. After some minutes, you arrive in front of his room. The door wasn’t completely closed. The nurse says she gives you one hour and will come back here to get you back later. You nod, left alone. You wait a few seconds, gathering some courage. 

You put your hand on the handle of the door. Suddenly, you hear sniffles coming from inside. Your heart sinks, remembering the words of Katniss. You directly open the door, “Finnick ?!” you say in surprise when you are met with his back, sitting on his bed. He jerks his head towards you, surprised to see you here. His face painted sorrow, eyes red, tears on his cheeks, hands tying a knot.

“Y/n ?” he asks, “Finnick,” you repeat and rush towards him, without even realizing you take him in your arms. The rope falls on the floor. “Why are you crying ?” you ask concerned, his arms hugging you tighter, face digging in the crook of your neck, nose brushing your skin. Your scent calms his shuddering breath. Big large hands caress your back, fingers digging in your flesh.

“God, y/n. What are you doing here ?” he says in a broken voice, sniffing.

“I now have one hour free from the hospital,” you explain, looking at him and grabbing his face in your palms. Thumb puts away his hair from his forehead, and a tear is still glistening at the corner of his eye.

“You weren’t supposed to see me like this,” he mutters, nervously laughing as he wipes his face with his arm.

“I did,” you answer in a murmur, “is it because of me ?” you add after some seconds of silence. He hesitantly looks away, clearly not wanting to answer.

“I’m sorry. It’s just hard to handle sometimes,” he sighs in a broken sob, trying to smile, but he doesn’t succeed. You look at him, at his lips, unable to form even a grin. Then back at the green, his green, dull and almost lifeless. You swallow hard, shaking your head.

“I’m the one being sorry. I’m trying my best. This past week I barely snapped at you, I’m making progress, I-” you start to explain yourself, to defend.

“Y/n, please, don’t blame yourself,” he cuts you mid-sentence. 

“But I do,” you whisper, letting your head fall on his shoulder.

“Things are different, and it’s... alright. As long as you are safe, I’m happy,” he says gently, trying to reassure you. His mouth lands on your head, softly.

“No, you aren’t. Look at you,” you raise your gaze to meet his.

“I’m alright,” he responds through his tears. “Liar,” you spat. 

“Honey…” he intends to say. “Liar. Stop lying to me !” you exclaim louder.

“Y/n, it’s complicated,” he admits, not knowing what else he could say.

“I never wished for things to be different,” you confess as well. “I know,” he whispers. Silence. You calm down, look back at him, staring at each other lost in your swirl of thoughts and conflicted emotions.

“Let’s rest,” you propose. Finnick relaxes, and glances at his bed.

“You have one hour, right ? Do you want to take a nap ?” he asks, in hope that you will accept. It was actually like back in District 4, the two of you enjoyed napping together, cuddling for endless hours, skin to skin. You end up nodding, bringing relief to the blond that seems a bit happier compared to a few minutes ago. His tears are already drying.

He lays down on the bed, you do too, facing each other. Close, you feel his breath on the top of your head. Your limbs mingle, you close your eyes. Finnick doesn’t, softly staring at your calm expression. Missing the warmth of his body, you gently get closer, still hesitant. It’s when you fall finally asleep that two arms bring you closer, tugging you against Finnick’s chest. 

“I’m always here for you,” he whispers, closing his eyes as well and letting himself finally drift off to sleep. 

In the middle of your sleep, you suddenly get visions that haunt the darkest corners of your mind. Blood on your hands, Finnick’s. His screams. Him being a mutt, lying to you, being killed by your own will. Everything being your fault and your fault only. 

It causes you to wake up in a scream of terror, squirming in the bedsheets. Finnick wakes up too, startled, and quickly realises what was happening. He takes you in his arms, close and comforting.

“Y/n, y/n, you’re here, safe, everything is fine. Look at me,” he pleads, and you gasp for air, holding yourself to him in an attempt to anchor yourself in reality. You felt like you were on fire, burning of guilt and despair. Your lungs too.

“Where is he ? Finnick ? Where is he ?!” you scream, pushing him away. But he grabs you back and forces you to look at him now.

“I’m here, honey. Shhh, shhh, I’m here, right here, in front of you. See ?” he tries to calm you. You cry, hot and fat drops of water running down your terrified face. You struggle to inhale, as if oxygen refused to go to your brain. It felt like you were dying. Was it your punishment ? For all the sorrow you brought to Finnick ?

“I killed you, blood…everywhere- can’t breathe !” you sob and gasp at the same time. Finnick’s face distorts in concern, and he directly goes to his night-table. He opens something and gives you a brown paper bag, putting it in front of your mouth.

“Breath in there,” he instructs you. He makes you follow a pattern, inhaling and exhaling in the bag, which at first is difficult, panic surrounding you. But Finnick doesn’t falter and stays at your side until you finally are able to properly breath some minutes later. 

“You okay ?” he asks, cradling you gently on his lap when you show no more sign of discomfort.

“Thank you,” you murmur, chest rising and falling, looking at the ceiling.

“You’re welcome,” he smiles, caressing your cheek and thumb wiping under your swollen eyes. Some minutes later, the nurses come back to get you. You say goodbye to Finnick, strange feelings nestled in your heart when you part ways, him looking at you walking back towards the hospital for dinner time with Johanna. You decided to just spend time with her silently, until night came and you had to go back to sleep.

That night you had another nightmare, but nobody came to help you out. You remembered that Finnick wasn’t here. Not until you could leave the hospital. You were left sobbing, curled in your bed, wishing everything would come to an end. 

You realized you started to become completely emotionally dependent on Finnick. Worse than you did before the Quarter Quell. With the question of wondering if it was a bad thing, or progress in trusting him back, maybe both, you fell back asleep due to exhaustion. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

“Good, you’re doing very great !” exclaims Finnick, smiling all ears when you manage to swim for two meters without his support. Once you reach his chest, you sigh of relief, going back to the surface and on land. You shake, proud of yourself, but still completely terrified of what you just did.

“Can we stop for today ? I don’t think I can do more,” you admit, and Silverlock wraps a towel around your shoulders while Finnick swims towards your legs that were dangling in the pool.

“Yes, good results,” says Silverlock.

Your bath therapy turned to swimming therapy in a pool, making you swim a small distance, alone, at each end of a session. To test your abilities of handling yourself and face your trauma, before reaching Finnick that acted as your emotional support and goal. Days passed since your nightmare from last time. Since then, things have changed a bit. You went to visit Finnick outside of the hospital everyday, him making you walk around, showing you the places and explaining to you in more detail life in District 13. Katniss, as she told you, indeed would soon leave for District 2 as well. In four days. You completely forgot that the war between the Capitol and the rebels was still on, and things would either turn soon in your favor, or south. 

Finnick lifts himself off the pool, and stands next to you, dripping wet.

“Good job,” he whispers in your ear. You smile at him, drying yourself with the towel then turning around to face your psychologist.

“Y/n, I have good news for you,” he announces, hands behind his back. Intrigued, you look at him and then glance at Finnick, wondering what he thought about it.

“Yes ?” you ask.

“You will still have your daily therapy, but you are dismissed from the hospital. Congratulations,” he says.

chapter 8 .... don't forget to comment your thoughts on the chapter ! Thank you for reading ;)

[maeedrg]

UNTIL PANEM IS FREE

chapter 6

75th Hunger Games Finnick Odair x reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, currently reading ch6, ch7

synopsis : you weren't sure if Finnick was alive. Until you are rescued by District 13, and have to face a new kind of problem. The man that haunted your darkest nightmares.

words count : 9.6k

warnings : psychosis, mention of sa, mention of torture, hospital, angst, reunion, slow burn dynamic.

edit of the chapter

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Finnick is alive, Finnick is alive, Finnick is dead. No, Finnick is alive. Wait, who is Finnick ? Right, the man that you killed. You mean, the man that you loved with all your heart. Was he really alive, or was it an old record of him before his death that District 13 utilized, or maybe a video clip modified to make it look like him ? You didn’t know anymore. Because your torture made you completely lose your mind. As well as Peeta’s. 

Again, like before the interview, he was in the same room as yours. Tied to a chair, having drugs injected in your body and messing up with your nervous system as well as your memories and capacity of properly thinking. It’s atrocious, both of your screams chanting together in a horrible symphony. But something changed. Now, they showed different images than last time while you were hallucinating, making it worse, blurring twice your memories. Making you think the worst happened. 

For the following days, the only person you saw was Peeta, aside from doctors and Capitol attendants. Johanna, you didn’t even see a glimpse of her, nor Enobaria. They cancelled the daily propaganda in the Community hall. Instead, all day you were with the blond, having hallucinations, eating, hallucinations, having restless sleeps filled with nightmares, hallucinations, talking to Peeta and sharing your paranoia together, then again hallucinations. It was all in a loophole, and you lost track of how many days passed, if it was a lot or barely two days. 

It actually became worse when the electricity in apparently all Panem went off. You were in the dark, with only low electricity that was stored for emergency rooms. Being plunged in the dark wasn’t that pleasant, but at least you weren’t forced to stay 24/7 in a bright white room that made you go crazy. You didn’t know why it happened, but surely an attack from the rebels. 

You never thought you would become Peeta’s friend in such a way, even if considering the two of you as friends was still a bit presumptuous. But it was the closest word to describe this strange relationship that was born in this chaos, pain, torture, and paranoia. Forced to bond in the madness that was your captive stay at the Capitol.

“Do you think Katniss is dead ?” Peeta asks. The two of you were sitting next to each other, curfew being soon. You had a small moment of rest before dinner. Well, dinner was actually something you wished you could avoid because of how disgusting the food was. Nothing like the dishes the Capitol offered when you came as a Victor. But you were a prisoner, things changed. And it’s not like you could avoid eating, as they forced you to do so to maintain you alive. Just the bare minimum, so you would have enough strength to support the drugs. 

“Maybe she survived thanks to you alerting 13 that they will be bombed,” you answer, shrugging it off. To be honest, you didn’t really care anymore if she was alive or not. The small moment of hope you felt when hearing her say “fire is catching ! If we burn, you burn with us !” disappeared instantly after the drugs hit your nervous system. 

“Or she didn’t make it, and I should be happy about it,” continues Peeta, staring at the wall of the white empty and soulless room. You glance at where his eyes were looking, then your shoulders sag. 

“I don’t know. If… F.. Finnick ? If Finnick was alive, maybe now he's dead. His body buried under District’s 13 rumbles after the explosion,” you mention, struggling for a second to correctly remember his name, or who he was. Then, you imagine what his corpse would look like. You shiver and shake your head, trying to think about something less sordid. 

“Him being dead is for the best, believe me,” he comments, very seriously, tearing his gaze away from the wall to instead look at you in the eyes. “Us too,” you simply say, holding his stare.

“They won’t let us die, y/n,” he sighs, scratching his chin. “Well, one day they will. Once they decide we are not useful anymore, goodbye and we’re dead. Hanged, or shot, maybe worse, like throwing us again in the Arena,” you continue, counting the different possibilities of your future execution. You should never underestimate what the Capitol is capable of.

“And having mutts reaping our limbs, yeah,” he jokes, a small smile on his chapped lips, quite bloody from biting them too much, eating the dead skin off. But then, at the mention of mutts, the blond stops in his tracks. His smile vanishes and he takes his forehead in his head and digs his sharp nails in his skin. “Just like Katniss, she’s a mutt…” Peeta starts to mumble, eyes haggard. You knew that trying to convince the boy otherwise would just make him angered, and would result in him lashing out at you and surely hurting you. Well, the cuts on your face proved that he could be dangerous when you mentioned Katniss’ name.

“Peeta, take the tissue,” you hand him the improvised rope you gave him days ago, “here, tie and untie it,” you invite him to do so. He becomes silent, and opens his hand so you could put the tissue inside of it. Gently, you give it to him, and he mumbles alone as he ties and unties the knot. It’s not perfect, but over the past days, he became more competent and skilled in doing so. You even taught him more complicated ones, so he could pass time less boringly, or just to distract his mind from lunging at you.

Some minutes later, attendants bring trails with food. They had flashlights so they could see in the darkness. You sit on your own bed, and look disgustingly at the dish. It didn’t even look humanly possible to digest. But apparently, it was nutritious. So you eat, while Peeta is forced too as well. Because they stay here, making sure none of you try to do anything with the fork or knife you used to feed yourself. Never too cautious. As if you would try to escape. It was impossible. Johanna tried and failed miserably.

You go to sleep when dinner is done. It’s quiet, until Peeta screams in his sleep and you wish you could suffocate him to death and end the never stopping sound of his restless nightmares.

So you stay awake, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. Even if you couldn’t see much in the darkness. You try to not think, but it’s hard. Because the only thing in your head is the fact that you tried to acknowledge that Finnick Odair was alive and not dead like you thought. Or maybe he was, after the Capitol bombarded District 13. But a fact was there at the corner of your mind : you apparently didn’t kill him, nor Snow. Yet, it’s hard to believe. Because you were so sure, the hallucinations were so close to reality that you didn’t know what was real or not. 

Alive, dead, alive, murdered, alive… you lost track. Who were you thinking about again ? 

Hours pass slowly, and haunted by thoughts, images of an uncertain past, you end up to the conclusion that Finnick never stayed alive, these images were just recycled from District 13. You killed him, remembering the blood on your hands, thick and warm. His green eyes, pleading for mercy. The last breath of his, in the crook of your neck. 

In the morning, it was the same exhausting routine. Breakfast, drugs with hallucinations, small break, lunch, drugs with hallucinations, and then a break of some hours before dinner. You started to become numb to the poison of wasps. It came to the point that they had to increase your intake.

During the afternoon, something happens. Power goes back and a sudden bright light flashes before you, blinding you. The Capitol managed to recover electricity. You look at Peeta, expecting the worst. Him, he is agitated, something brewing in his mind. Everyone around looked happy and relieved, but you weren’t, because surely something happened to the rebels. You sigh, attendants chatting happily about it while they do their last checks on your bodies to inspect your veins. As they were abused from the drugs they injected. 

Peeta waits for the attendants to turn their backs and chat before walking away from your quarters. Then, he suddenly grabs your arm and looks at you with madness yet seriousness in his gaze.

“Now that the electricity is back, we have to go to the Community Hall,” he whispers to you, blue eyes frequently looking at the door then back at your surprised face. 

“It’s prohibited, they don’t force us to go watch the propaganda anymore. I think it’s better like that,” you answer as you shrug, not understanding why Peeta suddenly wanted to go to this place. There was nothing fun about it. Maybe he really went completely mad and was brainwashed to the bone to desire to watch from his own will the Capitol’s propaganda. 

“Exactly, they made us stop watching it because of District 13’s network attacks,” confirms the boy, passing his hand in his disheveled hair. But the way he looks at you shows that there was an undermeaning to his words. You squint your eyes, then nod as you whisper so nobody could hear, aside from him. You get closer. 

“Oh, yes, true. They don’t want us to know what else is happening during the war, nor have any form of affiliation with rebels,” you explain.

“Exactly. And I need to know what is happening right now, from District 13. For Katniss, and to see how far she’ll go in this madness,” comments and reveals Peeta, leaning towards your ear. You don’t say anything for a few seconds. The way he said this, made it look like he still cared and loved the girl. But really, you knew better. Now, Peeta wasn’t the same. The old him died. All he wanted was for Katniss, the so-called mutt, to disappear. Because she was a threat to him. You sigh.

“I see. But you don’t need my help for that, you can go alone. They won’t kill you if they catch you, you’re still too valuable,” you murmur, speaking the truth, and he knew you were right.

“I trust you,” Peeta suddenly announces, and you are quite surprised to hear those words coming from him. “You do ?” you ask.

“Believe me, it’s hard to trust anyone. But you showed me that I could. And you are the only one I can share this with,” he explains, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. But you stare at him and then back at your hands. You dig your nails in your palms, creating crescent moon shapes on your skin.

“I’ll gain nothing if I go there. I’m not interested anymore in the war. All I want is for my suffering to end. I want to di-,” you start to say defeated and with no motivation nor will to live.

“Well, lucky for you, they’ll surely kill you if you are caught listening to District 13 propaganda. So come with me, and you’ll maybe get what you want,” he cuts you in the middle of your sentence, putting his hand on your shoulder. You close your mouth, holding his gaze. A good ten seconds pass without any of you saying anything. You had nothing to lose, not anymore, and you were convinced of it. The people that you once loved, were for sure gone forever. Even Mags. Maybe Johanna, as you heard nothing coming from her the past days. 

So you take a deep breath and nod. “You’re right. Then let’s go, what are you waiting for ?” you answer as you stand up and pat his thigh to invite him to mimic you. Peeta looks relieved for a moment, and without a word, the two of you approach the door.

The doors were transparent, leaving no intimacy and full access for attendants or doctors to look at you and other captives. The door was locked, making it impossible to open from inside. So you had to make someone willingly enter the room.

“How can we lure them in before dinner ? Because it’s only at these hours that they rewatch the possible propaganda in the room next to the Community hall. And the Community hall closes early since nobody is forced to go there anymore, we don’t have much time,” you explain, gazing at the window-like-door and the poor reflection it could give you of yourself. You really looked awful.

“When it’s not in our schedule, they only come in to intervene if something happens. Like when you had your hallucinations episodes two days ago,” adds Peeta, pacing around, walking barefoot on the tiled white floor.

“Or when you attack me,” you say, shrugging it off as if it was a normal detail. Peeta stops walking and guilt washes over his face.

“I won’t do it again,” he whispers like a promise, a promise you don’t believe because he was too unstable to completely trust. As much as he should never completely trust you, you weren’t better than him.

“They’ll come if you do, to separate us,” you continue, approaching him, tilting your head.

“Then you’ll be the one attacking me, I can handle it,” he proposes, pointing at you. You freeze, not knowing if it would be a good idea. What if it ended up badly ? What if in the midst of faking it, something you weren’t completely aware of, would control you and make you unstoppable ? Or Peeta ? What if something shifts and he attacks you back furiously ? 

“I…” you mutter hesitantly. “We don’t have much time, you said it yourself,” interrupts the blond, firmly. You look at him to see how serious he was, and oh, he was. So you end up accepting. “Right,” you answer. “Ready ?” you ask, preparing yourself.

“Please yourself, y/n,” he smiles slightly. Right after, you lunge at him without a real warning. The both of you fall on the ground, in a grunt. You punch him, but only in places that won’t hurt too much, nor doing it for real. Peeta counters your attacks, and you greet your teeth as you scream to make it even more believable. You notice how Peeta struggles, both physically and mentally, noticing it by the way his eyes stare at you. He is struggling against himself.

You thank the universe when attendants with doctors instantly arrive. They rush to separate you, you squirm, not much, just for them to not hold you too tight.

“An hour in the torture room will do you some good at the both of you !” exclaims the head doctor of the night service. Peeta gets grabbed by others, and he gives you a look as he stops struggling and lets himself be brought out of your quarters.

You let your body go limp, waiting some seconds. As the attendants seem to relax themselves, seeing you stopped to move, you take the opportunity. You yank your head backwards and break the nose of the man that was holding you. Peeta does the same, and under the effect of surprise, the two of you dash in the corridors. Even if the both of you got very weak these past weeks, you still had an advantage compared to them.

You killed, and you could do it again. Meanwhile, they never had to physically resort to such atrocious and barbaric acts. You just hoped that you won’t stumble on peacekeepers, because they wouldn’t hesitate one second to do the same you did in the past.

Behind you, they yell, try to run after you, and then a signal of alarm resonates in the whole compartment. A strident sound with a red lightning blinds you for a solid second before you grab Peeta and push him in the next corridor to avoid attendants that were running after you.

“Alert, subjects escaping. Alert, subjects escaping,” exclaims a robotic voice from the ceiling. Two, four, seven times, it’s on repeat. 

“Let’s go left !” Peeta says, waiting for the attendants to disappear.

“The Community hall is on the right !” you protest, shaking your head as you look around in panic when you hear yells coming from peacekeepers meters away.

“I memorized the corridors, the left one can get you to it, it’s safer, but longer. So we still have to be careful,” he explains, and you end up nodding in acknowledgment, following him. You tiptoe in the small corridor, then when you have to turn, you see at the corner a Peacekeeper on guard with a weapon, something that looks like a long gun. You show Peeta to stop walking and let you take care of it. With his prosthetic leg, he was too loud. He gazes at the man, and understanding he was a liability right now, he nods in approval. 

You sneak behind the man, being alone because as the blond said, this part of the floor was barely used. The main part of security forces were concentrated on the other wing of the building. The moment he notices you, you instantly push him on the floor, grab his weapon before he could shoot and knock him out by violently punching the side of his face with the head of the gun. He lays on the ground, limp. You were tempted to shoot him dead, but the bang of the gun would just attract unnecessary attention. So you leave him be. 

Once the corridor is cleared, you wave your hand at Peeta and make him follow you. After some avoiding, hiding, a lot of waiting to be sure you won’t get caught, you manage to reach the Community hall.

It’s empty, but with cameras everywhere, you know that sooner or later, a load of peacekeepers would come at you. With your gun, you let Peeta enter it, guarding the entry with the stolen weapon. Left, right, nobody is around. 

As if it was destiny, the thirteen seconds following your arrival, the big tv screen starts to crash, the interview of Ceasar Flickerman being interrupted. Bingo, the seal of Panem is nowhere to be seen, and instead, it’s the one of District 13. You vaguely hear the voice of Katniss Everdeen, Peeta getting agitated, and you barely listen to what she had to say because really, you didn’t care.

You stay focused and ready, listening to the agitation in the corridors. Yet, nobody comes to get you. Why ? Surely, with the cameras, they spotted your emplacement with Peeta. But why is the commotion not  reaching you ? It was like something was happening at the same time as your escape with Peeta. But what could it possibly be ? Were they preoccupied by the propaganda of District 13, judging it more important than the escape of the two of you ? Actually, it would be a good situation. Leading you to have more time, so Peeta could maybe assist at the whole interview of Katniss portrayed on the tv screen of the Community hall.

But something didn’t feel right, and it actually made you more nervous than anything. You sweat, rubbing your forehead frequently and glance at the empty corridors. The red alarm was still present, bright and blinding you if you looked at it too long. 

Then, coming from the speakers of the room connected to the tv, you hear a voice. You stop dead in your tracks. 

It wasn’t any voice. It was Finnick’s voice. 

You almost drop your weapon, heart stopping to beat for a second. You rush inside, barely have the time to brutally give the gun to Peeta so that he could be the one guarding the door, that you have a glimpse of his face.

Finnick is there, in front of you, talking to a camera. So close yet so far. Your hand, hesitantly, falls on the screen. No, that couldn’t be… yet, here he was. Looking alive. And it was the second confirmation you had of him not being dead. But your thoughts jumble with strange memories. Killing him yet never doing such a thing. You didn’t know anymore. It all was too confusing, it made you want to throw up. 

“President Snow used to…sell me…my body, that is,” Finnick begins in a flat, removed tone. You shiver head to toe and step back, looking at the screen with a distorted face. Your legs shake, and Peeta approaches you with the gun, looking confused.

“What is happening ?” he whispers, but you directly shush him, wanting to hear what else Finnick had to say to the camera. Even if it broke your heart. 

“I wasn’t the only one. If a Victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love. So you do it.”

You smack your hand on your mouth to stop you from throwing up. Memories of seeing Finnick crashing down, looking disgusted at the feeling of being touched, and the years of trust you built with him to be intimate together after what he went through, each one of these memories come together all at once. 

“I wasn’t the only one, but I was the most popular,” he says. “And perhaps the most defenseless, because the people I loved were so defenseless. To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment.” Secrets. Oh god, you actually throw up right at your feet. It splashes down, and your knees weaken. Peeta directly grabs you, and brings you meters away from your vomit. Thankfully, you barely stained your clothes. But your stomach feels so heavy after hearing his words, remembering these painful facts about him, that you wished you could throw up again and maybe have the chance to feel empty. But you don’t. 

“Secrets,” he says, echoing your thoughts. “And this is where you’re going to want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But let’s begin with some of the others.”

At the same time, Peeta shakes you. You then notice footsteps running towards the Community hall. Suddenly, power is cut and you are left in the darkness before it goes back, flickering. 

“We have to move ! They are coming !” he exclaims in a hushed whisper. You try to gain back some consciousness, and do your best to stay put on your feet. You grab the gun from his hands, and wobble towards the exit. But Peeta yanks you on the side and you are slammed against the wall, so peacekeepers won’t see you and like this, you’ll have the effect of surprise.

You try to not breathe too loudly, wait for them to arrive so you’ll shoot them one by one before they kill you. Yet, nothing comes. Peacekeepers pass in front of the Community hall, screaming orders, but never come at you. 

“This is our chance, let’s go,” whispers Peeta. You follow him, rushing out of the hall, but you grab his arm. The corridor was empty.

“Something is not right,” you say. Suddenly, before he could answer, screams are heard, and they are from Johanna. You directly recognize her voice. Without a second thought, like some instinct, you gain back strength and rush towards the yelling. Peeta tries to stop you but it’s too late, and now he has to follow you.

When you arrive in the quarters, you see her getting held by people wearing some military outfits different from the Capitol. They all turn towards you, and you immediately pull your gun at them in fear and precaution, not knowing what they will do. You notice a strange smell, a gas, surrounding you. It makes you dizzy. 

“Who are you ?!” you yell. 

“We are from District 13 ! We come to save you, so hurry up, we have exactly one minute and 34 seconds ahead of us !” exclaims one of the person, taking off his mask to show his identity. A man with dark hair, grey eyes and olive skin, from what you could perceive through the red alarm lightning. But he directly puts his mask back in to not inhale the gas. You struggle to keep your eyes fully open. 

“Don’t trust them, y/n !” yells Peeta, grabbing your arm. They all get agitated, and Johanna tries to tell you that she is fine, even if she didn’t look like it, half conscious. She seems more calm than before, but the men and women, more exactly seven of them, look stressed and nervous, ready to react if something happens. 

“Peeta, it’s me, Gale,” suddenly says the man that talked to you some seconds ago. Something shifts in Peeta’s hold and gaze, and when you see this, you decide to trust them. Because if they were from 13, it meant the man that you loved was there. 

“Come on !” yells another one with a deep voice. After this, everything goes very quick but quite slowly at the same time. Peeta, being too unstable, gets knocked down by the so-called Gale with the help of someone apparently responding to the name of Boggs. They have to carry him all the way. 

You don’t have much time to think more about trusting them or not, that you end up following them, avoiding peacekeepers, entering the underground’s of the Capitol and having to listen to every order of these strangers. But with Peeta -even if he was unconscious- and Johanna by your side, you felt less lost. At many moments, they have to physically support you, because you and Johanna were too weak, half knocked out by the gas they used.  

You feel relief when you reach somewhere outside of the underground’s, after weeks, feeling the warmth of the setting sun on your skin. It doesn’t last long, barely being able to inhale some fresh air, that a hovercraft comes to get you. This time, not one from the Capitol, but from District 13. Even if you are on guard, scared it all was a trap, you end up willingly going in the hovercraft. Once you enter it, seemingly doctors waiting for the rescued Victors, rush towards you, Johanna, Peeta, while another team towards the rebels that saved you. 

But it’s all too much, the gas finally kicking in one last time, and you end up losing consciousness. You stay in a half awake/asleep state where you can hear them talking about the operation, or about your medical conditions, sometimes about what you will become once you are in 13. But it’s all too blurry, and you succumb to horrible nightmares until the hovercraft arrives safely to the District.

The exact same haunting dreams you had for the past days. You, killing Finnick with your own hands. But this time, it’s you, going back to District 13, and the first thing you do when seeing him, is murdering him.

The nightmare is a loophole for what feels like eternity, until you are violently woken up on a medical bed. You were being transported by a lot of nurses in a long corridor filled and packed by people and what seems like the ones that saved you. People give orders, going fast in a race against time, shouting to bring medical supplies or bring the wounded to the operation room. 

You realize instantly that you were in District 13. Nervously, you sit back up, breathing heavily and in panic. You look around in madness, ignoring the nurses telling you to lay back down. But you didn’t care. 

Then, you hear a voice you thought you would never hear again in real life.

“Y/n !” 

You stare in shock at the man that was standing in front of you. Disheveled hair, green eyes turning dull from exhaustion, wearing a hospital gown, playing with a rope. It falls on the ground as he rushes towards you. Your eyes are wide open, immersing yourself in a dream. Yes, you were in a dream. You surely were dead, and in a lifeless sleep after your death. Because why was Finnick Odair, alive, in front of you ? When your memories, as weird as your troubled mind, convinced you that you killed him by your own hands ? Was he haunting you, even when you thought you would never see him again ? 

“Y/n !” he yells again in a cry of joy, not believing his eyes that you were real and alive in front of him, pushing away nurses that were on his way so he could reach you. 

In this moment, like muscle memory, something distant waking up at the back of your brain, you stand from the hospital bed that nurses used to transport for urgent care. Yet, you don’t care, and barely have the time to step twice on your weak feet that Finnick’s arms sprawl around your sick body. You collide into each other. 

“Finnick !” you exclaim in a shriek, quite not sure that it was a dream anymore, because of how his strength around you made you lose your breath. It felt real. Not an illusion. The two of you end up slamming against a wall, losing your balance and sliding down the coldness of it to reach the floor. At this moment, nothing else exists, except the two of you. You breathe in his scent, reminiscing of lost memories that the Capitol stole from you. You cling to each other, morphing into one entity that desperately tries to grasp the presence of one another. 

“You’re alive… you’re alive,” whispers Finnick with tears in his eyes as he takes your face and analyzes it, realizing how much weight you lost, with the bruises on your skin and the color drain it caused. His heart breaks, mixed with pure anger and hatred for the Capitol, President Snow, whatever they did to you. He gives a look to the nurses, then back at you, green eyes scanning your face. 

“Is it all a dream ?” you murmur, not really understanding whatever was happening right now. “Are you an illusion ? Coming to haunt me for what I did to you ?” you ask, panic starting and inhaling louder. His lips land on your cheeks, then forehead, trying to calm you down as best as he could. 

“You’re here in District 13, honey. You’re safe, I’m safe too. Everything is fine,” he says as he holds your cheeks and makes you look into his eyes. Yet, you shake your head. It hurts, your brain feeling like it was getting fried on the spot. Your breath is labored, anxiety slowly eating you alive. Throwing up was right at the corner. Everything felt wrong right now.

“No, no… it’s not true…” you deny and start to look around, instead of the green of his eyes. Finnick gets even more concerned with how much the Capitol made you think otherwise, resulting in horrible extents. 

“Honey, it is. Believe me,” he repeats yet you weakly stand up, lose your balance, he catches you back and you shiver. 

“No ! I killed you ! I killed him ! I killed Finnick ! You….” you exclaim, and nurses take the opportunity to come back to you, holding your arms. Finnick stares at them, gets closer, scared to be separated from you.

“I am alive, whatever Snow or the Capitol told you is not true-” he answers directly after he ignores the nurses and desperately attempts to catch back your eyes, yet, you refuse to look at him. 

“Liar ! You liar ! Get away from me ! You’re a mutt ! What did you do to him ?! What did you do to his corpse ?!” you suddenly yell in a broken voice and try to jump towards him, maybe to hurt the man that usurped your lover’s identity. You manage to scratch his arm. Finnick looks at you surprised, nurses and other attendants put you back on the bed. You continue to scream in what seems like agony, pure hatred and fear. The blond gets agitated, frowning his eyebrows when they have to use back the restraints of the hospital bed. The corridor gets way too busy, attracting some injured citizens of 13 to curiously look at what was happening in the hallway. 

“Don’t hurt her !” Finnick exclaims angrily, pushing a doctor that restrained him from getting closer. He throws an insult when they put a needle in your arm, reminding you of the torture of the Capitol, making you cry in terror. Yet, all it comes is relief, your veins filled with something that makes you relax instantly and fall back on the mattress.

You take a deep breath, your ears ringing and not listening anymore to whatever was happening around you, being transported to a hospital room so you could receive urgent treatment. It’s no sooner than 2 minutes when you fall back into a forced sleep. The doors close in front of Finnick that didn’t want to get separated, worried sick for your wellbeing. It’s Mags, that arrives and puts her hand on his tense shoulder. He doesn’t move, his eyes kept on the small window allowing him to keep a watchful eye on you.

“I’ll wait for her to wake up,” he simply says with a restrained voice. The old woman answers that you needed time, and uses the term « hijacked » to explain your reaction when you saw him. She brings him to a bench in another corridor, almost empty and away from the other Victors and their rescuing team. He sits down, not having the strength to even check if Johanna came back alive. Because his mind was in turmoil after what you screamed at him, the look of horror in your eyes, something he could never forget. 

Finnick lost you twice. And even if you were alive, he didn’t know if the feeling was worse than if you were dead. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ   

Finnick sits at a table, next to an injured Katniss, her neck gravely hurt. Days have passed, he was prohibited to come see you for the time being, informed that you were in urgent care and any trigger could make you spiral again. He heard that it was the same for Peeta, maybe worse, as instead he was now conditioned to kill Katniss. The girl still has a sore voice, and she glances at him before looking back at Beete sitting in front of them. 

“Mags already told me she was Hijacked, but I’m not sure I follow what she entirely meant,” says Finnick with a deeper voice, losing all the charm and outgoing personality he thought he would gain back after seeing you alive. It didn’t. Katniss looks at Finnick, still confused about it. The reason why Beete was here was to talk about it with them. 

“I’m sorry,” Beetee says, “but I can’t tell you all the specifics of it. The Capitol’s very secretive about this form of torture, and I believe the results are inconsistent. This we do know. It’s a type of fear conditioning. The term hijack comes from an old English word that means ‘to capture,’ or even better, ‘seize.’ We believe it was chosen because the technique involves the use of tracker jacker venom, and the jack suggested hijack,” he explains. Finnick digs his nails in the rope he was using to tie and untie it. His expression becomes hollow, and Katniss looks lost.

“Are they doomed to stay like that ? Peeta forever thinking I’m a mutt ?” asks Katniss with bitterness, a hint of despair in her eyes. 

“Y/n can’t continue to think she killed me and that I’m just some sort of being possessing the corpse of the real Finnick,” the blond adds. He stares at Beete, waiting for the intellectual to give him any hint of hope. Just one, something to keep him going, that nothing is completely doomed as Katniss said. 

“Maybe slowly being introduced back in their lives, or being reverse hijacked. It might be easier for you, Finnick. To convince her that you really are alive. But Katniss, if I’m being honest, it will be harder. The two of you have to understand that the old them are buried, and you will surely never find them back,” announces Beete after some seconds of reflecting, adjusting his glasses and moving his wheelchair so he could get closer to the two of them. Katniss stares in shock, not saying anything. Finnick opens his eyes wider, then his hands bleed from how much strength he used on the rope. His teeth dig in the inside of his cheek, before standing up abruptly.

“Thank you, Beete. I’ll deal with that. Come on, Katniss. Let’s go,” he says to the girl, putting a hand on her shoulder. She snaps out of her thoughts. “Right…” she says in a hoarse voice and stands up slowly. Finnick guides her out of the meeting room, walking towards the corridors that lead to the hospital where Peeta and you rested. 

“I’ll go see if I can meet y/n. I won’t accept losing her,” he says as he stops and turns to look at the girl, in the eyes. 

“Well, that will be easier for you, as Beete said. Peeta thinks I’m a mutt-” she starts to say, tightening her fist. “Y/n thinks I’m a mutt too, Katniss,” he interrupts her directly, his gaze firm and unwavering. Katniss holds his stare, and then turns her head.

“I’ll come with you. I at least want to see how Peeta is doing, even if I can’t talk to him,” she answers after a few seconds. Finnick nods. “Then let’s go,” he whispers and the two of them walk towards the hospital. A gloomy face plastered, unable to crack a smile. Finnick doesn’t even try to make a joke, or to relieve the tension. Not anymore.

Actually, he had a strict schedule to follow everyday. He got it once he left the hospital the same day after you came back from the Capitol. But now that you were seriously taken in charge there, he didn’t care anymore to respect the military program that he was given. All he wanted now was to be by your side, and surely president Coin won’t mind too much if he didn’t go to his usual training of the day. And if she did, then she could fuck off, he thought. 

Katniss goes another way as he walks towards your room. A nurse and a man that he didn’t know, papers in his hands while writing notes, notices him.

“You must be Finnick ? You arrived the moment I was about to go search for you. I’m Teff Silverlock, the psychologist in charge with Miss Y/n L/n,” the man presents himself, extending his hand to shake Finnick’s. He does as well, analyzing the said psychologist. His skin was very dark, and he had a scar next to his left eye. He looked old, maybe around 70 years old. 

“Can I come inside ?” Finnick asks and gives a look to the door separating him from you. 

“She is slowly calming down and getting accustomed to being in District 13. I need to test her reaction when she sees you. As you are her main trigger in her psychosis. She is under morphine, so normally she’ll be alright,” Teff continues to explain, taking some notes on the paper he was holding then scratches his head. Finnick nods in understanding, assimilating the news. He hoped that he had a chance to have a normal conversation with you today. Because he missed you so much, he was going insane. To the point they proposed that he goes back to the hospital, but he judged it useless if he wasn’t allowed to see you there. Until now. 

“Morphine… well, I’ll enter…” he says as he swallows his saliva and strengthens his back to give himself some courage to try to look presentable and to not show how much he was falling apart. 

“Open the door,” says Teff Silverlock to the nurses. They do so, and after a hesitation, Finnick slowly enters it.

Here you were, sitting on the bed in the typical District 13 hospital robes, tubes connected to your body so they could put you back on track towards a healthy body. Your eyes were somewhere else, occupied with looking at pictures in your hands. When you hear someone entering, you start to say “Silverlock, I think I remember this picture but who is this man next to me-”

You stopped dead on your track when the man in front of you was the one in the picture. You froze, and Finnick stiffened before gaining back his usual smile, the one he only gave to you or Mags. 

“Hey, how are you feeling ?” he asks softly as he approaches slowly, not wanting to seem menacing and waiting for you to show acceptance.

“Fine…” you vaguely answer warily, the same way you did when you were mad at him. But Finnick knew it wasn’t, because you pronounced it as if he was a stranger. He holds back a sigh, keeping his smile on his face even if he wanted just to cry. You play with the pictures in your hand, and look back at the one you were holding earlier.

“Is that you ?” you question after some seconds, your finger gently caressing the face on the paper, then raising your head to stare at him. Finnick walks closer, you flinch slightly so he stops and simply looks from where he was standing. Like this, he won’t startle you. 

“Yes,” he answers in a nod and stares at it, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. His heart tightens. “Do you remember this picture ?” he questions. You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“I think so. It was in District 4,” you say in a whisper, reminiscing of this lost memory that slowly came back to mind. 

“Exactly. And, our prep’ team came to get us ready for an event at the Capitol. Before leaving, they took a picture of us with Mags, in front of the sunrise on the beach. It was a bit cold and you-” he starts to explain the moment, “I used your jacket,” you interrupt him as for the first time since you came back from the Capitol, you looked into his green eyes. Emotions swirl in your heart, and for Finnick, it’s worse. He stiffens and then, trying his best to swallow back the feeling he was experiencing, carefully, he approaches you. He notices you don’t back away, and he is relieved that he didn’t scare you. There was some progress, he thought. 

“Is your head okay ? Are you eating well ?” he questions sitting next to you, not quite yet touching your body in case you would react like last time. 

“I’m trying to…” you start to answer, vaguely, because suddenly you remember things. Your head starts to hurt, your hand reaching your forehead and massaging it to relieve the throbbing it caused. “I dream of you. I killed you with my own hands, I…” you continue with a broken voice, what sounds like a cry. Finnick instinctively grabs your hand and puts it against his torso, squeezing your knuckles in an attempt to bring you back to him. 

“Honey. Touch me. And you’ll see I’m the real Finnick. You never killed me, I swear,” he directly says. You breathe heavily, and then let your nails and the tip of your fingers caress his skin through his shirt. It’s like time stops, no sounds heard aside from each other’s exhales. Softly, you feel his heart beat. It quickens. He looks at you, every muscle moves on your face, being attentive to your mental state. For now, you were calm. Bloody hell, it was heaven. How much he missed your touch. Your fingers on his skin, to have you close. It felt like hell, having restless sleep, nightmares, craving to be next to you, hear you breath, see your eyes, your face, your smile. Anything. He was prohibited. So every second by your side was like a blessing. Even if you weren’t yourself, even if you will never be entirely yourself again. 

Then, something in your eyes shift, and your hands are tainted with blood. His blood. You yank away your fingers, shaking your head violently, horrible visions and illusions haunting you. 

“No ! No ! You liar ! You liar !” you scream, causing Finnick to look at you worriedly, yet he doesn’t back away, doesn’t do any harsh movements, doesn’t get scared or startled. Instead, he does what always worked to calm you down and ease your mind. He hugs you close. 

“Let me go ! You mutt !” you yell and squirm like a wild animal, meanwhile his hold strengthens around your body and his face buries in your neck. You panic, and a weird mix of emotions are possessing you. Fear, anger, despair and guilt, with love, calmness, comfort and… home. Home like you never felt before. 

“I’m here, I’m alive, I’m with you, Y/n,” he whispers in your ear in a sweet and soft voice. 

Nurses enter the room, with a doctor and the psychologist that was behind the door observing the situation. The nurses approach you both, panicked and with a needle in their hands to be ready to knock you down. Yet, Teff Silverlock grabs their arms and stops them from approaching you. 

“He has to let go of her !” they protest, but he shakes his head. Meanwhile, you continue to squirm and yell, Finnick still whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 

“No, let him stay,” the psychologist retorts. “But-” one of the nurses attempts to answer. “Let him stay. It’s for the experience,” he answers firmly with his strong voice modified by his old age. Nurses and doctors have to leave the two of you, closing the door and staying behind the glasses to check your behavior.

Minutes pass, and Finnick never lets you go. His whispers echoed in the back of your head, without noticing you started to cling to him, your face finding solace in his neck, arms wrapping and tensing around his chest, fingers digging in his shoulders, nose brushing his skin. 

“Shh, shh… everything is okay. I’m fine. And I love you. Never forget that,” he ends up murmuring when you finally stopped your insatiable need to attack him or to get away from him in fear. 

You try to breathe more slowly. Swallowing your saliva. Finnick inhales, realizing it was the first time you didn’t say that you loved him back. It never happened before. He didn’t know how much his heart could break, but it did again. Yet he tries to enjoy the small victory of succeeding in calming you back, clinging to him like a lifeline. 

“Are you with me ?” he asks in a soft voice.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what is happening to me, I-” you suddenly sob, your emotions a mess and hot tears streaming down your face. You didn’t know what was real or not. What was an illusion or memories ? 

“Shh, shh… don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong. We’re going to go through this together, alright ?” he rocks you, lulling you back to calm down. You raise your head and look into the green of his irises.

“Is it real ?” you question.

“It is. I’m real. Not an illusion. I assure you,” he nods, caressing your face and then your cheek. He tries to show with his eyes the truth they behold, that he was sincere. You end up sighing and laying back down on the mattress. 

“I’m tired…” you whisper, all this talking and screaming draining you. Finnick’s hand rests on your forehead in a protective way, taking care of you. 

“Did you eat ?” 

“Not yet,” you deny, staring at the wall and being soothed by his touch. He nods, giving a look at the door. 

“Then I’ll eat with you, like we always did in the past at my house,” he smiles, the thought of it brings him some bitter joy. Confused, you question him as you raise an eyebrow. “We did ?”

“Yes, and you always stole the food on my plate when I wasn’t looking,” he chuckles softly as you recognize the smile lines at the corner of his mouth. For a good ten seconds you are staring at him, something sweet filling your wounded heart. You remember fuzzy memories of seeing him smile at you, but then, his face distorts and all you see is his deathly stare, filled with despair when you murdered him.

Sensing the change in your behavior, Finnick stands up and tells you he’ll go ask to eat with you. He leaves you alone in the room, letting you breathe and think about something else. You peek at the window where he talks to your psychologist, and Teff Silverlock even taps his back in encouragement. Surely to be brave enough to eat with you. You frown. Were you that unstable to the point that your supposed lover had to gather courage to be with you ? Your stomach sinks.

When Finnick comes back with two trails of food, having a bigger quantity and different ingredients to help you gain back weight, you sit in silence and eat. Finnick keeps his eyes on you, while you munch on your food. You get lost in your thoughts, barely registering what you were doing. You don’t even realize when Finnick wipes some food that fell on your chest. 

“Look out, honey,” he warns with some amusement, sucking on his thumb the remaining food. You snap out of your thoughts and hum in confusion before looking at him and understanding the situation. 

“I wasn’t focused,” you defend yourself. He snickers slightly, smile lines even more prominent now. 

“I know, I saw that,” he jokes, and the way he said that made you remember how Finnick loved to tease you. Again, you get lost in thoughts, trying to remember fuzzy things about him. You didn’t completely lose your mind, you did have things still fresh in your brain. Others were altered, and some completely erased and modified to have gruesome images of his death instead. 

The two of you finish eating, you don’t say anything when he wipes the food from your mouth, like he did to Mags when eating homemade dishes, the three of you together at District 4. That felt humiliating, to be treated like this. But, you knew you weren’t in total capacity today to take proper care of yourself. Maybe in some days you’ll finally go back to the old you, but the old you was dead. And it would never fully come back to life. 

“You should rest. When is your shower time in your schedule ?” he asks when you finish drinking some water. You immediately tense at the word shower. He senses it. 

“…. I don’t…” you whisper, shaking your head, in an avoidant way. 

“What, they don’t allow you to wash yourself ?” he frowns, already imagining the worst and being on guard. He glares at your psychologist still looking at the two of you being the glass, allowing no intimacy. The old man raises his eyebrows at the green eyes of Finnick staring into his soul. But you grab his arm and explain, “No, it’s coming from me. I only want to use a damp cloth… The same as Johanna, we clean ourselves together.” 

“So what’s the problem ?” he questions, not understanding, looking back at you. 

“…” you don’t answer as you remember the atrocities and tortures they made you go through. Getting soaked being one of them. As Johanna, it made you fear being under water. Seeing you didn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t pressure you.

“Alright, I get it. Do you want me to stay with you ?” Finnick asks. 

“I need some alone time. To think…” about you, is the end of the sentence you didn’t say out loud. He sighs and simply stands up. For a second he leans towards you to kiss your forehead or your cheek, hell, your lips. But he doesn’t, because your relationship is different now, against his own will. You were lovers, but at what cost when you acted avoidant and thought he was an impostor, that you killed him and he wasn’t the real Finnick but someone wearing his skin ? 

Nonetheless, Finnick won’t stay like this doing nothing. He’ll help you heal, do everything in his power to gain back your trust, and your love. If in the end you still don’t accept him, then he would sadly have to agree to let you go. Everything for you he’ll do, even disappear from your life. 

“I’ll come visit you tomorrow. I normally have training right now, but I skipped it. I hope the trainer won’t kick my ass too hard for doing so. I’m not into that kind of kink,” he tried to joke, forcing his usual flirtatious smirk on his face, hoping it would crack a smile on yours. And it does, your lips slightly twitching with amusement. It wasn’t much, but still a victory.

“Goodbye,” you simply say. He gives you one last look and steps out of the hospital room. When he closes the door behind him, nurses step in to give you the usual treatment and Teff Silverlock greets him back.

“Coming everyday would be nice. Each day, we’ll try to keep you with her for a longer time. Testing new things, like her main triggers, and seeing how she reacts. It’s called exposure therapy. It would be easier to deal with her mental state than Peeta’s one. Poor Katniss Everdeen, she has it bad,” he sighs and massages his wrinkled forehead before walking in the corridor next to the blond. 

“How long will she stay at the hospital ?” Finnick asks. Teff Silverlock hums and thinks. 

“Physically, she is healing pretty fast. I think once she gains more weight, she’ll be able to adapt to District’s 13 schedule. Training would do her some good, she needs muscles,” he explains.

“I’m considered one of the best soldiers with Gale Hawthorne, I’ll ask if during y/n’s training time, I can be retrograded to help her. Hoping President Coin would allow it,” Finnick proposes as he stops in the middle of the corridor, looking at Teff. 

“It’s Soldier York, the one in charge with lower phases of training. I’ll talk with Coin and York, to arrange that,” finishes Silverlock. The blond thanks him. They say their goodbyes, and Finnick leaves with a troubled mind but with a new settled goal. 

 જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

The next day, Finnick came back. It was the same as yesterday. Being wary, sometimes falling back in a mental state that makes you scream and cry at him, calling him a mutt and a liar. But Finnick stays a bit longer this time, enough for you to slowly get used to it, until it gets too much and he leaves. 

At Johanna’s side, you’re wiping your body with a damp cloth instead of taking a shower. The two of you are talking, not caring about the nudity of each other. 

“Have you seen Peeta since we got rescued ?” you ask as you put the damp cloth on your face. 

“No, he is in another compartment. I’m happy to not hear his screams anymore, they were very loud,” she answered with her usual attitude that made you smile. 

“I wonder how he’s doing,” you hum as you sit back down on the bench of the bathroom of the hospital, and now clean your feet.

“I heard he strangled Katniss. It’s pretty bad…” she answers vaguely. You immediately freeze, realizing that you almost did the same with Finnick.

“I attacked Finnick too, I thought he was a mutt,” you admit. Johanna stops and looks at you, before sighing.

“I think getting slapped would do him some good,” she ends up joking to ease the tension. It makes you crack a smile. 

“And you, how is your treatment going ? Are they trying to cut the morphine ?” you ask.

“I’m stealing Katniss’. She doesn’t mind,” she shrugs. 

“Well, I’m not surprised, coming from her. She’s kinder than she thinks… And what else ?”

“They’ve got this head doctor who comes around every day. Supposed to be helping me recover. Like some guy who’s spent his life in this rabbit warren’s going to fix me up. Complete idiot. At least twenty times a session he reminds me that I’m totally safe,” she explains, rolling her eyes. You nod in acknowledgement 

“I have a psychologist that seems a bit weird. I don’t know if it will work to be honest, as I’m considered batshit crazy. But it doesn’t change from the past. It’s kinda funny, because now it’s true and I’m not faking it. Do you think I get some karma ?” you ask as you dry yourself with another clean towel. 

“Nah. We all end up being crazy, the torture of the Capitol just mad it worse. Look at Peeta, he’s completely mad now. Not the boy we knew from the games,” she retorts as she puts back the hospital gown. 

“You’re right,” you end up answering in a murmur. 

When you are finished, you get escorted back to your room. Feeling refreshed, being able to spend a bit of time with Johanna, your mood got significantly better. You still were curious, and to be honest, worried, for Peeta. But apparently you couldn’t go to see him. Maybe next week. 

The moment you arrive at your room, to your surprise you are greeted by someone you thought you wouldn’t see again, here, in District 13.

“Mags,” you whisper. 

chapter 7… don’t forget to leave a comment and what are your thoughts on this new dynamic in between Finnick and reader ! Thank you for reading !

[maeedrg]

UNTIL PANEM IS FREE

chapter 5

75th Hunger Games Finnick Odair x reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, currently reading ch5, ch6 etc.

synopsis : kidnapped by the Capitol, you are persuaded that Finnick was dead because of you. Everything becomes a blur, your daily journey filled with propaganda, torture, occasionally seeing Peeta and Johanna, until something unexpected happens..

words count : 8.k

warnings : implied major character death, torture, mentally unstable, hallucinations, physical violence, angst, dissociation.

TRAILER FANFIC PART 2 - MOCKINGJAY

———————————————————————————

Finnick. Dead. Finnick was dead. You couldn’t believe it. No, that couldn’t be true. He was lying, he was lying, he was lying. You suffocate, your world crumbling under your bed, because Finnick was your world, and him dying meant the end of yours.

He couldn’t leave you, he was only allowed to be killed in the Arena, and then you as well. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. For you to be kidnapped, surviving, and him getting murdered. Because of you. You refused to even acknowledge such atrocity. It was a nightmare, Finnick had to be alive somewhere. Not rotting away. 

“You’re lying !” you yell in full force, trying to dash towards the president, even though you couldn’t move much because of the straitjacket. With all the poor strength you could gather in your weakened body, you lunge at him in an attempt to bite off the skin of his face. Peacekeepers shoot, your head falling backwards as a tiny arrow with sedatives stocks its needle in your skin. You stumble back on the floor, crying and shouting that it was all but lies. Yet you start to feel numb, the drug spreading in your body. 

“He’s not dead ! He can’t be ! Finnick ! Finnick !” you continue to yell, banging your head on the white floor, painting it red with your blood. But each second passing, your consciousness slips through your fingers. Your vision gets blurry, tears rolling down towards your mouth, while you are left alone. Nobody comes to help you out, to wipe the dried blood, nor to put you back on the bed. Finnick would have, but he’s not here anymore and never will be again.

You remain alone, in misery, because without Finnick, there was nothing else you could do but wait for your death.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Hours later, someone enters the room. You can notice something blond, fluffy but greasy hair from sweat. Strong arms lift you up, and gently put you back on the mattress. Your skull was killing you, but after so long of dozing off, you found back the ability to try to create a coherent thought.

“Finnick ?” you ask softly. “No, it’s me. Peeta,” answers a voice. You groan, blinking as your vision focuses on the face of the boy. Right, Finnick was dead. It couldn’t be him, aside from Peeta. But his hair was blond, maybe lighter than the one of Finnick. You thought for a moment that it was him, a small mistake that brought you hope. Before it got crushed to bring you back to reality. 

“What are you doing ?” you ask in a broken voice. He takes a small cup of water that he managed to steal, and makes you drink without answering. It’s only now that you realize that you were so thirsty. You didn’t really care about drinking or eating anymore, all you wanted was for you to die. But he forced the water down your throat. So you swallow. 

“Weren’t you getting tortured earlier ? Or yesterday, last week, I don’t know,” you whimper, not even knowing what time of the day it was. Nor how much time has passed since you got kidnapped from the Arena.

“Yes. But they still try to maintain me in good shape. I made a deal with Snow, to protect Katniss,” he explains and sits at the edge of your bed. All you can answer is a nod, having no strength to formulate a full sentence or pretend to care. You didn’t. 

“I don’t have much time before they get me back to my own room. You saved me in the Arena, twice. I own you. It’s for that I’m doing this,” he continues, realizing you won’t talk. From the robe he was wearing, one given by apparently the psychiatric hospital, he plunged his hand inside and revealed some dry biscuits. Something he stole too. You wondered how. He opens your mouth and forces you to eat. It’s disgusting, but it’s the type of food they give to malnutritioned people in recovery. 

“Eat,” he orders you. 

You swallow, he gives you back water, you swallow again. He doesn’t say anything else. He looks as restless as you, and no matter how attendants of the Capitol are trying to make him still look presentable, surely for propaganda, you can’t help but notice all the details that showed the hell he was going through. You wondered what type of torture they forced upon him. Was he electrocuted like you ? Drowned too ? 

“Finnick is dead. Snow killed him, because of me,” you end up saying. It was the only thing you wanted to talk about. 

Peeta looks at you, with pity. You knew he didn’t appreciate Finnick that much, surely he still felt betrayed after learning the plan you all participated in without him and Katniss knowing. But he still went through something similar, being ripped away from the person he loved the most. At least, Katniss was still alive, and in safety in District 13, for sure. Not like the one person you loved, that surely had his body dumped somewhere, or burned, or still hanging on a tree in public to terrorize citizens. Even the strongest would lose against the wrath of President Snow. Being all your fault.

“I’m sorry,” he simply said. He had nothing else to whisper. He still hates you for what happened in the Arena, for Katniss. That’s what you guess. Yet, he had the decency of being empathic for some seconds. No matter what, Peeta was still someone kind. 

He just nods, and the door opens. Doctors come to take him, leaving you back alone. The bed of Johanna was empty. You wanted to care, wondering where your friend was, if she was getting tortured, or killed. But you don’t want to know anymore. 

The following weeks, you are like a ghost. You can be twenty-four hours left completely alone without any attendants, locked in your room, aside from allowing you for short moments to go relieve yourself to the toilets, and give you the necessary food. But really, you barely ate anything. You weren’t hungry, and not like they actually cared to nourish you well. They did the minimum to keep you alive. Maybe it was your new torture, to force you to stay alive, even when all you wanted was to die. Aside from that, you became numb to electric shocks. They stopped it, the drowning too, judging it was useless to waste their time dealing with a living dead woman. They just let you wander around the confinity of your padded room. Sometimes you catch glimpses of Peeta, Johanna, and to your small surprise, even Enobaria. But you refused to talk, and locked yourself in the doom hole of mourning the man that you loved. To the point you even lost yourself. 

When you aren’t crying, you are forced to watch the tv plastered in the Community Hall of the prisoners. Peacekeepers posted all around the place, in case someone would try something. It only happened once, when Johanna got revolted at something. They beaten her up so much she was bleeding. You tried to protect her, but to punish you, they sent you back to the electric room. This time, they drugged you with something new, to make you have hallucinations of horrible things. Memories turning into nightmares. Until it ended. 

In the Community Hall, what they project on the tv screen, it’s always the same. War footage. Propaganda. Replaying the bombings of District 12. An ominous message from President Snow.

Today, you were forced again to go there. This time, you were in the company of Johanna. She stayed by your side.

“I heard for Finnick,” she simply says, sitting next to you.

“Who ?” you mumble, barely focusing on the words escaping her chapped lips. 

“Finnick.” she repeats. “Oh yes, Finnick,” you whisper, face becoming pale again and digging your nails in your skin. You weren’t in a straitjacket anymore. Meaning you could freely move around your arms, not like you used them much. 

“I’m-” Johanna starts to say before peacekeepers threaten you to shut up with their weapons, or else. Right, you weren’t allowed to talk. Apparently, it was to prevent conspiracies. Johanna rolls her eyes, and she only glared at them defiantly like she always did, before looking at the tv as the anthem starts to play. 

Again, the same. War footage. Propaganda. Replaying the bombings of District 12. An ominous message from President Snow. Then Caesar Flickerman, painted in his usual color and extravagant clothes. Until the camera pulls back and you see that his guest is Peeta. 

For the first time, your attention gets caught. You stop fidgeting with your fingers, as if you were tying a knot even though there was nothing in your hands, and look at the screen. 

Peeta looks healthy to the point of robustness. His skin is glowing, flawless, in that full-body-polish way. His manner’s composed, serious. And, even if your mind is fuzzy, forgetting conversations, names, and even core memories, you manage to remember what he told you. Something like : “But they still try to maintain me in good shape. I made a deal with Snow, to protect Katniss.” So that was why. 

Caesar settles himself more comfortably in the chair across from Peeta and gives him a long look.

“So…Peeta…welcome back.” Peeta smiles slightly. “I bet you thought you’d done your last interview with me, Caesar.”

“I confess, I did,” says Caesar. “The night before the Quarter Quell… well, who ever thought we’d see you again ?” 

“It wasn’t part of my plan, that’s for sure,” says Peeta with a frown. Caesar leans in to him a little. “I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was. To sacrifice yourself in the Arena so that Katniss Everdeen and your child could survive.”

“That was it. Clear and simple.” Peeta’s fingers trace the upholstered pattern on the arm of the chair. “But other people had plans as well.”

He meant you, Johanna, Beete, Wiress, the other rebels and…. Finnick ? Yes, Finnick. 

In the silence that follows, Peeta drowns his eyebrows. “Why don’t you tell us about that last night in the Arena ?” suggests Caesar. “Help us sort a few things out.” Peeta nods but takes his time speaking. “That last night…to tell you about that last night…well, first of all, you have to imagine how it felt in the Arena. It was like being an insect trapped under a bowl filled with steaming air. And all around you, jungle…green and alive and ticking. That giant clock ticking away your life. Every hour promising some new horror. You have to imagine that in the past two days, sixteen people have died— some of them defending you. At the rate things are going, the last eight will be dead by morning. Save one. The victor. And your plan is that it won’t be you.” 

You cover your ears at the memories, yet a peacekeeper grabs your wrists and forces you to continue to listen to the interview. You weren’t allowed to do such a thing, almost treated like treason. Well, you already were a traitor. So you didn’t care. But you are too weak to protest, and your arms snap away from your head and you are forced to continue to listen to whatever Peeta and Caesar were talking about. 

“Once you’re in the Arena, the rest of the world becomes very distant,” he continues. “All the people and things you loved or cared about almost cease to exist. The pink sky and the monsters in the jungle and the tributes who want your blood become your final reality, the only one that ever mattered. As bad as it makes you feel, you’re going to have to do some killing, because in the arena, you only get one wish. And it’s very costly.”

“It costs your life,” says Caesar. “Oh, no. It costs a lot more than your life. To murder innocent people ?” says Peeta. “It costs everything you are.” “Everything you are,” repeats Caesar quietly. 

A hush has fallen over the room, spreading across Panem. A nation leaning in toward its screens. Because no one has ever talked about what it’s really like in the Arena before. Peeta goes on. “So you hold on to your wish. And that last night, yes, my wish was to save Katniss. But even without knowing about the rebels, it didn’t feel right. Everything was too complicated. I found myself regretting I hadn’t run off with her earlier in the day, as she had suggested. But there was no getting out of it at that point.”

“You were too caught up in Beetee’s plan to electrify the salt lake,” says Caesar. “Too busy playing allies with the others. I should have never let them separate us !” Peeta bursts out. “That’s when I lost her.” 

“When you stayed at the lightning tree, and she and Johanna Mason took the coil of wire down to the water,” Caesar clarifies. Johanna, next to you, tenses and mumbles something bloody to herself.

“I didn’t want to !” Peeta flushes in agitation. “But I couldn’t argue with Beetee without indicating we were about to break away from the alliance. When that wire was cut, everything just went insane. I can only remember bits and pieces. Trying to find her. Watching Brutus kill Chaff. Killing Brutus myself. Then y/n finding me and supporting me on her back because I broke my prosthetic leg. I know Katniss was calling my name. Then the lightning bolt hit the tree, and the force field around the Arena…blew out.”

You didn’t know that Brutus killed Chaff, nor that Peeta killed Brutus himself. Maybe when fighting him, it weakened the material of his leg, leading to break when you found him back in the jungle. 

“Katniss blew it out, Peeta,” says Caesar. “You’ve seen the footage.”

“She didn’t know what she was doing. None of us could follow Beetee’s plan. You can see her trying to figure out what to do with that wire,” Peeta snaps back. “All right. It just looks suspicious,” says Caesar. “As if she was part of the rebels’ plan all along.” Peeta’s on his feet, leaning in to Caesar’s face, hands locked on the arms of his interviewer’s chair. “Really ? And was it part of her plan for Johanna to nearly kill her ? For that electric shock to paralyze her ? To trigger the bombing ?” He’s yelling now. “She didn’t know, Caesar ! Neither of us knew anything except that we were trying to keep each other alive !”

Caesar places his hand on Peeta’s chest in a gesture that’s both self-protective and conciliatory. “Okay, Peeta, I believe you.” 

“Okay.” Peeta withdraws from Caesar, pulling back his hands, running them through his hair, mussing his carefully styled blond curls. He slumps back in his chair, distraught. Caesar waits a moment, studying Peeta. “What about your mentor, Haymitch Abernathy ?” Peeta’s face hardens. “I don’t know what Haymitch knew.” “Could he have been part of the conspiracy?” asks Caesar. 

“He never mentioned it,” says Peeta. Caesar presses on. “What does your heart tell you ?” “That I shouldn’t have trusted him,” says Peeta. “That’s all.

Caesar pats Peeta’s shoulder. “We can stop now if you want.”

“Was there more to discuss?” says Peeta wryly. “I was going to ask your thoughts on the war, but if you’re too upset…” begins Caesar. “Oh, I’m not too upset to answer that.” 

Peeta takes a deep breath and then looks straight into the camera. “I want everyone watching—whether you’re on the Capitol or the rebel side—to stop for just a moment and think about what this war could mean. For human beings. We almost went extinct fighting one another before. Now our numbers are even fewer. Our conditions more tenuous. Is this really what we want to do ? Kill ourselves off completely ? In the hopes that—what ? Some decent species will inherit the smoking remains of the earth ?”

“I don’t really…I’m not sure I’m following…” says Caesar. “We can’t fight one another, Caesar,” Peeta explains. “There won’t be enough of us left to keep going. If everybody doesn’t lay down their weapons—and I mean, as in very soon—it’s all over, anyway.” 

“So…you’re calling for a cease-fire ?” Caesar asks. “Yes. I’m calling for a cease-fire,” says Peeta tiredly. “Now why don’t we ask the guards to take me back to my quarters so I can build another hundred card houses ?” 

Caesar turns to the camera. “All right. I think that wraps it up. So back to our regularly scheduled programming.” Music plays them out, and then there’s a woman reading a list of expected shortages in the Capitol—fresh fruit, solar batteries, soap. 

You are hushed outside the room with Johanna and Enonaria. In the corridor, you pass across Peeta. He barely glances at you, his shoulder hitting yours, and then he disappears in his quarters. You do too, as your room was next to his, and next to Johanna.

A cease fire ? He really sold his dignity for protecting Katniss. You never wanted for a cease-fire, personally. You wanted for the Capitol and President Snow to burn to ashes, as it would avenge someone you loved dearly. Who was it again ? F ? Fi-… 

Your head hurts too much, you can’t think. 

The next day, it’s the same. Watching Propaganda. Peeta was sitting some meters away from you. He looked even more agitated. But then, something happens. The usual programming gets cut short. 

At first, the screen is black. Then a tiny spark flickers in the center. It blossoms, spreads, silently eating up the blackness until the entire frame is ablaze with a fire so real and intense, it reminds you of someone.

The image of a mockingjay pin emerges, glowing red-gold. You open your eyes wider, and instantly Peeta raises his back and looks at the screen chocked. 

Claudius Templesmith, the official announcer of the Hunger Games, says, “Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, burns on.”

“Katniss !” exclaims the blond. Peacekeepers, as surprised as him, take some second before restraining him.

Suddenly, there she is, replacing the mockingjay, standing before the flames and smoke of what you recognize being District 8.

“I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I’m right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women, and children. There will be no survivors.” Cut to the hospital collapsing in on itself, the desperation of the onlookers as Katniss continues in voice-over. “I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there’s a cease-fire, you’re deluding yourself. Because you know who they are and what they do.”

“Katniss ! Katniss ! Don’t-” screams Peeta, not believing his eyes. A peacekeeper punches his side to stop him. 

The camera is back to Katniss, her hands lifting up to indicate the outrage around her. “This is what they do ! And we must fight back !” Now comes a montage of a deadly battle, quite impressive. The initial bombs falling, Katniss and her team running, being blown to the ground—a close-up of her wound, which looks bloody— scaling the roof, diving into the nests, and then some shots of the rebels, a man that looks like Katniss, and mostly her, her again, her knocking planes out of the sky. Smash-cut back to her moving in on the camera. 

A ton of peacekeepers enter the room and suddenly grab all of you. You hear them saying that the rebels managed to play this in all Panem aside from the Capitol. You were the exception, as the place you were located was intercepting every possible message or interference by enemies. Indeed, so they could use it against you, show it to you, and torture you again to make you talk. 

“President Snow says he’s sending us a message ? Well, I have one for him. You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts to the ground, but do you see that ?” The camera is back tracking to the planes burning on the roof of the warehouse. Tight on the Capitol seal on a wing, which melts back into the image of Katniss’s face, shouting at the president. 

Peeta screams, you all are dragged out of the room, yet, before the doors close, you can hear and see : 

“Fire is catching ! And if we burn, you burn with us !”

Flames engulf the screen again. Superimposed on them in black, solid letters are the words : IF WE BURN YOU BURN WITH US. The words catch fire and the whole screen burns to blackness. 

The doors close suddenly. Peeta, Johanna, you and Enobaria are dragged to different places. You are in an emotional shock, because seeing this set ablaze a dying flame in your heart. Something that was dormant. The desire to avenge yourself, to avenge someone you loved. 

This time, you are again in the new torture room. The one with the drugs. They force you down on a chair, and needles pierce your skin. Instantly, the pain is horrendous. You refuse to talk, but you end up talking and screaming at the hallucinations you are experiencing. You see him, Finnick, dying in front of you. Getting killed by President Snow in an abnormal number of different ways. Each one is an abominable way. You yell his name, again and again, until your thoughts jumble and you are confused with syllables and remain unable to know how to pronounce his name. But what you know is that it was your fault, to the point you saw his blood on your hands.

It feels like hours, days, where you get so tired of this that you just wish for it to stop, for you to never remember, and to forever escape this hell.

When you are back in your quarters, you sleep for a long time, your body trying to heal the emotional damages you went through. Waking up, lost, sore, you see Johanna in the bed next to you. She is as beaten up as you. Yet, she keeps her eternal intensity. 

“They gave you the same drug as Peeta. I think it's from the wasps they had during their games,” she explains, as she sits up and looks at you. “I would prefer for them to change their torture and give me the same as you, instead of their stupid electric shocks and drowning. I’m getting tired of it,” she continues in what seems like nonchalantly, but you notice how she is shaking.

“You have hallucinations. Horrible hallucinations. I don’t know what is real or not real anymore,” you whisper, staring at your hands while you lick your dried lips. Your hands were thinner, almost bony. You lost so much weight. That, was real. 

“Hallucinations of what ? The games ?” asks Johanna, standing up and sitting next to you on your bed. You simply shrug, wanting to downplay what you went through. 

“Sometimes. Death, too. Of him, being killed. In front of me and because of me, his blood on my hands…. I think,” you vaguely mention him, because really, you can’t actually remember exactly what happened in these hallucinations as everything was getting jumbled in your head. All you could remember seeing was green, the green of eyes you apparently used to cherish so much. 

“I don’t think he is really dead. Snow must have said that to break you. If he did, he would have done the same as he did years ago, when he murdered all my loved ones. Showing me their corpses,” she explains bitterly. Him. Alive, dead. What was real or not. You didn’t know. 

“I don’t know…” you repeat your thoughts out loud. 

“Finnick won’t let himself be killed that easily, even more when he knows you have to be rescued. He’s probably in District 13, with Katniss. Safe and sound and away from torture, not like us. They forgot about us, uh ? Abandoning us !” she exclaims agitated as she moves her arms and looks at the ceiling, as if they could hear her. Nothing happens, aside from you looking at Johanna confused. Suddenly, you don’t understand. Who was she talking about ? Who were you talking about ?

“Wait, who ?” Johanna stops her show of hatred before turning to look at you, frowning. She then raises an eyebrow. 

“Finnick. Finnick Odair, your lover.”

Some seconds pass.

“Who is Finnick Odair ?”

Johanna looked at you as if you just ripped her head off and put it back on. She blinks, then has a nervous weird laugh, because for a solid second she thought you were joking. A stupid joke of some kind. Yet, when she stares at your serious dumbfounded face, having no idea what she was talking about, her shoulders sag. She looks away and puts her hand on the top of your head.

“You’re very tired, maybe try to rest. I’ll go steal some biscuits and bring them to you. So don’t move from here, okay ?” she says more seriously, losing the fervor in her voice. You try to hold her back, because you don't want to be alone, scared the hallucinations will come back. Your fingers retract when she sneaks away from the room you both were sharing from time to time.

You sit back, fidgeting with the robe you were wearing. Your body was shaking, you needed to put your frustration on something else. An idea popped in your head out of nowhere, an irresistible desire to handle a rope, to tie and untie it over and over again.

Yet, you didn’t know why you wanted to do this, as it appeared from a weird memory. The only thing you could decipher was a face, green eyes, but then it all jumbles back in death and torture. You groan and take your face in your hands, fingers digging in your scalp as you pant. Memories are becoming rustless, haunting you and feeling like a personal attack. You scream, wanting for it to end. You don’t know what is real or not, if you were in agony, tied to a tree, unable to save the execution of the faceless man that haunted your dreams, or if you were in a padded room waiting for your death. 

Other screams are heard, in symphony with yours. Peeta, yelling at the top of his lungs across your room. Either he was getting tortured like every other day, or he was in his quarters, having nightmares and hallucinations just like you. It doesn’t stop and lasts quite long. It’s only one hour later that Johanna comes back with a bruised nose, and she hands you some biscuits.

“What happened ?” you ask,you accept them, thanking her. You bite into it, as you haven’t eaten for the last 24 hours. The taste was as always, atrocious, but at least, nutritive.

“Got caught, I had to run away before they could bring me to the torture room,” she explains. “The screams of Peeta allowed me to silently run to the quarters without any peacekeeper hearing me. He’s very loud,” she continues and rubs her nose. You look at it, noticing that blood was still running down her nostril. You gaze back down at your robe, rip some tissue and then hand it to her so she could stick it in her wound and stop the bleeding.

Johanna chuckles, and puts it, looking ridiculous like this. When you finish eating, the both of you hand up sharing your bed and laying next to each other. You stare at the ceiling while she analyzes you in silence. It’s quiet, the only sounds being either Peeta’s screams, or your own thoughts.

“You really don’t remember him ?” Johanna suddenly asks, turning her head so she could look at you properly. You blink again, trying to think, but really, everything in your mind was a terrible mess. Having no coherent thoughts. Nothing stable. 

“Who ?” you ask, playing with your hands, looking at the scars covering them. 

“Finnick,” Johanna says more calmly, as if to not startle you. 

You don’t say anything. His name is in repeat. You whisper it, and letters appear in your mind. Then, fuzzy memories, which you don't know if they are real or not. Green eyes, a big smile, death, his execution, you tied to a tree, the arena, ropes, his kisses, his blood on your hands. You close your eyes, then rub them, rolling on your side and staring at the wall. 

“... he’s dead. That’s all I know about him. He got killed in front of me while I was tied to that tree, and his blood was on my hands,” you answer as a matter of fact. It was the truth, what you believed and were sure of. Johanna sits back up and puts her hand on your shoulder. You shiver. 

“That never happened, y/n,” she retorts. 

“Yes it did. It’s real,” you blurt out instantly after. 

Johanna didn't say anything, because she knew she couldn’t convince someone mentally deranged. Your breathing becomes slower, and after some minutes, you fall asleep for some restless nightmares. 

Your awakening is as brutal as your dreams. You get woken up by attendants, forced to stand up with Johanna as the two of you were still dizzy from the nap you had. They talk about the obligatory daily propaganda to watch in the community hall. 

You walk, tired, in the corridor. You realize Peeta is not screaming anymore. Maybe they stopped to torture him so he could watch the propaganda. Anything for it. When you arrive, they make you sit next to Enobaria, who seems in a good shape compared to you. After all, she didn't need to get tortured since she knew nothing about the rebels' plan. 

The propaganda starts, but then the Capitol is introducing a special segment. You get surprised to see Caesar Flickerman again, you instantly understand what was about to happen. His guest is Peeta. Compared to the last interview, where Peeta looked healthy, conscious, and in good shape, he turned to someone that lost fifteen pounds and developed a nervous tremor in his hands. You understand now why he was screaming like that earlier.

You scoff, he was just like you. They tried to groom him, but that couldn't hide anything. Everyone could see that he was getting tortured. It wasn’t a secret anymore, it was to provoke Katniss. The mockingjay.  

Caesar and Peeta have a few empty exchanges before Caesar asks him about rumors about the districts. 

“They’re using her, obviously,” says Peeta. “To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even really knows what’s going on in the war. What’s at stake.”

“Is there anything you’d like to tell her ?” asks Caesar. “There is,” says Peeta. He looks directly into the camera, probably into Katniss’ eyes. 

“Don’t be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They’ve turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you’ve got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it’s too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you’re working with ? Do you really know what’s going on ? And if you don’t…find out.” Black screen. Seal of Panem. Show over. 

You are brought back to your room, but it doesn’t last long. You barely have the time to talk to Johanna, eat something and drink water that they guide you to the torture room. Again. You scream, try to get away, and through your yells, you notice Peeta being brought with you towards the same place. He is groaning and trying to bang his head on a wall, the look in his eyes as insane as yours. To your surprise, they put you in the same room, forced to sit on a chair next to each other. 

“New protocol,” says an attendant. They bring ropes and tie you to the chair, while Peeta has instead straps. Why were they doing that ? Why were you the one with the ropes ? You exclaim, begging them to let you go, scared that what will happen to you will be the same as during your games, in the Arena. You try to break free, it’s impossible.

They bring two tv screens. One in front of the blond, the other for you. Your voice cracks, you can barely yell anymore. It hurts. You intend to back away when the needle gets close to your arm.

“No, please don’t !” you cry, hot tears streaming down your face. It stings, the sharpness hitting you all at once and then intense pain and hallucinations crawl inside your brain.

At the same time, the two screens are turned on at the same time. Peeta’s one, you can vaguely see Katniss. But you are too preoccupied by the green eyes of Finnick, to care about whatever was happening next to you.

Again, while you are forced to see his face, images of the Quarter Quell, people getting assassinated, Finnick again, death, Finnick, killing, Finnick, murder, Finnick, death, Finnick, death. Death, death, death. Over and over again. It’s an agony. It drags on for hours while you suffer as the drug is striking every nerve of your system. Hallucinations are getting stronger. Finnick is crawling, a corpse, at your feet.

“Y/n, it’s all your fault. I died because of you !” he screams at you. You shake your head, ignoring Peeta’s scream because all you could hear was Finnick’s voice accusing you of his murder.

“No ! I’m sorry ! I didn’t !” you try to defend yourself. “I disappeared, you will never see me again. And that, because of your selfishness. You are the reason I’m not here anymore. You killed me, y/n. You are my murderer,” he continues, his hands gripping your legs, inch by inch going around your throat. You can’t breath, suffocate, shake and sob. 

Then, it suddenly stops. The screen is black, but the hallucinations remain. You barely can notice or understand what is happening, attendants freeing your limbs from the ropes. They do the same with Peeta that desperately shakes his hands and puts them on his ears while he repeats that he has to kill Katniss. 

Attendants leave, you are left alone with the blond. Why are they doing that ? What is happening ? Where is Finnick ?! He disappeared, not here anymore, but you feel like you are back on the Arena as you almost could feel the burning sun on your itching skin. 

“I’ll kill you !” suddenly exclaims Peeta as he lunges at you, and tackles you on the ground. You gasp for air, but your reflexes are quick, even though your body is weak. You manage to roll on the side and overpower him, trying to block his hands from strangling you.

“Katniss ! I’ll-” he yells, “Peeta ! It’s me, y/n !” you exclaim so you could cut him in his sentence. You barely realize the way something changes in his eyes and how he stops struggling, because your vision gets blurry. When you blink, under you is not Peeta anymore, but Finnick. And you are killing him. Not Snow, but you. You open wide your eyes in horror, shaky hands jerking away from his limbs and you fall back on the ground, backing meters from him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to !” you blurt out in panic, shaking your head and trying to wipe the blood from your hands on your robe. It doesn’t go away. You try harder. It’s still there. You grunt, before Peeta wobbles towards you and suddenly takes your bloody fingers. You realize the red liquid disappeared instantly. You snap out of your hallucination as you look into his deranged eyes. 

“Y/n, don’t trust Katniss. Don’t trust her anymore,” he says as if it was an important secret. 

“But why ? She did nothing wrong !” you retort, not understanding how the boy could come to this strange conclusion. He looks outraged, then he frowns strongly, sharpening his hold on your knuckles. 

“She is a killer !” he yells at you. You stand back up and violently grab him by his collar, and you realize how much weight he lost, his collarbones seenable.

“And so am I ! I killed Finnick ! It wasn’t Snow, it was me !” you retort in full force, emphasizing your words as you step back and almost fall, the floor spinning under your feet. 

“… it’s her, it’s all because of Katniss. You must have killed him because she made you do it,” he replies, approaching you and ticking with his tongue before digging his nails in his arms. “That’s why we have to be allies again, against her. You protected me in the Arena, and you understand me more than anyone right now,” he continues, talking as if what he said was the ultimate truth. Yet, you struggle. 

“Peeta, I killed Finnick… she did nothing, nothing to force me into doing that. Katniss never did anything like that. She is just a teenage girl, just like you are a teenage boy !” you argue and point at him, accusingly. Peeta stops, limbs trembling, his eyes having a small sparkle that appears again for a moment. Something you saw for a few times when he was at the side of the girl on fire during the games. Love. Care. Hope, even if small, ignites in his heart. Slowly setting ablaze. But it’s too tiny, one blow and it would disappear.

“Katniss… Katniss… her favorite colour is green.. Katniss-” he stops himself as a wave of pain strikes back his brain, and he curls on the floor like a wounded animal. At the same time, you freeze. Because green is the colour of the eyes of the man that you killed. 

Another hallucination starts, plunging you into misery. Attendants come back, tie you again to the chair and they force you to watch the screen that displays more images that haunt you. It lasts hours, and in the midst of it all, you have weird thoughts creeping into your mind. Peeta is your ally, but not like in the Arena. If what he said was true, if Katniss really made you kill Finnick, you have to avenge him. 

Katniss had to die. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

You were back in your padded room once the torture ended and that the hallucinations finally disappeared, leaving you restless. You slept, ate, had your daily wandering in the corridors of the quarters. Johanna joined you later in the night as it was curfew time, even if it wasn’t late in the night. Quite early, actually. Apparently she came back from another padded room and they confined her for the rest of the day, away from you and anyone else. 

“Are you okay ?” you ask, but talking hurts your vocals. So you whisper.  

“Do I look like I’m okay ? No. But better than yesterday. And you ? I heard your screams. Peeta’s too,” she shrugs, her shoulders sagging in defeat before she sighs and looks at you. 

You explained to her what happened, recalling the painful yet weird memories. You couldn’t decipher what was real or not. Finnick, Katniss, murder, blood. Wait, who was Finnick again ? Ah yes, the guy you murdered. You loved him. But, apparently you didn’t really kill him. Peeta said it was Katniss that made you do this. Did she really ? Vengeance rings in your head. 

“Do you think they tried to make you kill each other in that padded room ? I don't really think so, they still need Peeta because he is a precious hostage, and even if you are not as valuable as him, they need you too. For Finnick, to control him,” she explains her train of thoughts, caressing her shaved head. 

“What are you talking about ?! Finnick is dead ! I killed him !” you suddenly say in panic, getting closer to her as something shifts in your eyes. She puts her hands on your shoulders, making you back away from her. 

“Y/n, calm down,” she orders firmly. “No, Katniss made me kill him !” you correct yourself, confused. Clack ! Johanna just slapped your cheek, and you see stars for a good ten seconds before softly caressing the burning skin.

“Did that put some sense into your head ? Listen to me, y/n. They are using that drug to make you have hallucinations and control you ! None of this is true ! Same for Peeta ! If they suddenly put you with him, it wasn’t for nothing. Maybe to make you trauma bond with him, in a way that the two of you will be easier weapons to handle against District 13 ! Do you get it ? They are trying to-” she gets cut off violently as five peacekeepers enter the room in a bang, grab her arms and yank her away from you. 

“Johanna !” you exclaim. They suddenly walk towards the corridor and close the door behind them before you could understand what just happened. 

Some minutes later, they bring someone new. Blond hair, grunts, then the person calms down when he sees you, as if he just looked at someone that would understand him. Instead, your new roommate is Peeta. 

“You have one hour before the preparation of the interview,” an attendant says as he points at you two. Surprised, you blink. Did they mean you, as well as Peeta ? The door closed.

“You’ll be with me for this interview, with President Snow. We have to stop Katniss,” Peeta says as he sits in front of you, on the bed that once was the one of Johanna. You retract your nails on your thighs, having back images of the white haired snake-like man. The one that controlled parts of your nightmares. He is the one that killed the man that you loved, no, it was you, wait, it was Katniss. Who was it again ? 

“Didn’t you want to protect her ?” you ask, taking your head in your hands and shaking it once, twice, four times to make all these haunting thoughts disappear all at once.  

“Protect her ? I…..” Peeta answers, confused. He looks at you unblinking, chuckles nervously and then suddenly stands up. “I…. No. No. She is dangerous, we have to stop her, y/n. Stop the rebels, stop the war, have a ceasefire, have a…. Oh, I don’t know anymore !” he yells at the end, throwing the pillow on the floor in a fit of rage. 

You look at him, and decide you have to help him calm down. You take your robe, rip the edge in a band of tissue, thanks to your grip and your teeth, then hand it to him. Exactly what you did with Johanna hours ago, in the morning. 

“Here, tie and untie it. It will calm you down,” you explain. Confused, Peeta stares at it. Then, he accepts, sitting back on his bed. 

You sit next to him, in silence. He plays with the tissue-improved-rope. You don’t say anything, because you had nothing to say. Times fly, attendants come back. 

You feel like you are getting prepared for the opening ceremony again, or any party organized by the Capitol. Yet, it’s none of this. Your stylist isn’t here, nor your preparation team, nor is it for a party. In a separate room, they groom you, putting your hair in place, making you wash yourself thoroughly, taking off all the dirt that accumulated as you were allowed for only a shower per week. They put makeup to hide the bruises, cut your nails, and make you wear clean clothes. 

It all happens in a blur. Next thing you know, you have to sit in a room next to President Snow, Peeta on the other side. You glare at the man when you see his face again, wanting to run away but the words of Peeta resonate in your mind. You couldn’t. You had to stop Katniss.

“Pleased that you finally complied, miss y/n,” Snow says as he smiles in his creepy way. You shiver, looking away. “It was against my will,” you mutter with hatred. He smelled like blood and roses, it made you want to throw up.

The recording team arrives, they adjust the lights, make you sit straight, while Peeta has a hard time with, because of how his body hurts horrendously. Then, the camera is on you three. Next to it, there is a tv screen that shows what will be projected to the whole Panem. You see yourself, yet you don't recognize yourself. You lost so much weight, and no matter how much makeup you have, the dark circles under your eyes are still very visible. You both are sitting in an elevated chair, Peeta’s shoes supported by a metal rung. The foot of his prosthetic leg taps out a strange irregular beat. Beads of sweat have broken through the layer of powder on his upper lip and forehead. His look in his eyes angry yet unfocused, yours, similar, but with fear. 

The Capitol seal appears, underscored by the anthem. Then President Snow greets the nation. He seems barricaded behind his podium, but the white rose in his lapel is in full view. The camera pulls back to include Peeta, off to one side in front of a projected map of Panem, then you. You swallow your saliva. 

Peeta begins to speak in a frustrated tone about the need for the ceasefire. He highlights the damage done to key infrastructure in various districts, and as he speaks, parts of the map light up, showing images of the destruction. A broken dam in 7. A derailed train with a pool of toxic waste spilling from the tank cars. A granary collapsing after a fire. All of these he attributes to rebel action.

Then, it’s your turn, because for now you did nothing but stand there. Like a puppet.

“This has to stop, we are becoming monsters. I became a monster myself, I killed innocent people, and killed the man that I loved. We have to put an end to this madness,” you say as you scratch your cheek nervously, looking at the camera. 

Bam ! Without warning, Katniss suddenly appears on television, standing in the rubble of a bakery, surely from District 12. You look shocked, and Peeta disturbed. The camera is back on you. You blurt out something incoherent, then Peeta tries to pick up his speech by moving on to the bombing of a water purification plant.

Then, something happens. Appears a clip of Finnick talking about Rue.

You freeze in place, and you dig your nails in your cheeks as you gasp. Colors are drained off your face, and you shake uncontrollably. You start to hyperventilate, flashes of memories in your head. His death, then his eyes, you killing him, then Snow killing him, then the words of Johanna saying he was safe in District 13. Yet, here he was, alive. Nothing like your gruesome memories. 

“Finnick !” you exclaim, but attendants appear and tackle you on your chair. “Finnick ! Finnick ! Help-”. The camera is back on a distressed Peeta, not knowing what to do anymore. You intend to scream but they dig a needle on your arm. A calmant that instantly puts you in a drowsy state. You blink slowly and your train of thoughts is moving in a weird dance that confuses you even more.  

Then, the whole thing breaks down into a broadcast battle, as the Capitol tech masters try to fend off District’s 13 attack. But the Capitol is unprepared, and District 13 holds an arsenal of five- to ten-second clips to work with. It’s chaos. 

The Capitol seal’s back up, accompanied by a flat audio tone. This lasts about twenty seconds before Snow, you and Peeta return. Yet, you can’t say anything as you are too dazed off. Oh God, you want to throw up.

Snow plows forward, saying that clearly the rebels are now attempting to disrupt the dissemination of information they find incriminating, but both truth and justice will reign. The full broadcast will resume when security has been reinstated. He asks Peeta if, given tonight’s demonstration, he has any parting thoughts for Katniss Everdeen.

Peeta’s face contorts in effort. “Katniss… how do you think this will end ? What will be left ? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you…in Thirteen…” He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air ; his eyes look insane. “Dead by morning !” Off camera, Snow orders, “End it !” 

You can’t do anything when Peeta is getting attacked by peacekeepers that grab him and force him down. The camera is knocked down to record the white tiles floor. They take something heavy, and hurt him with it. Blood splatters everywhere. You try to move, but nothing comes. They take you away and bring you somewhere else, while you remain like a broken puppet.

But one thing remains in your head even though your inner turmoil is restless. Finnick is alive. 

Finnick, is, alive. 

chapter 6

[maeedrg]

UNTIL PANEM IS FREE

chapter 4

75 Hunger Games Finnick Odair x reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

ch1, ch2, ch3, currently reading ch4, ch5 etc.

synopsis : caught in the games, you try as much as you can to enjoy the last hours of your life with Finnick. The rescuing from District 13 is right at the corner, but the plan doesn’t go as you expected at all.

words count : 10.k

warnings : some fluff, slight suggestive mention from Finnick, angst, death, murder, torture, mentally unstable, dissociation.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ autor’s note : Hey ! Please, if you read my fanfic, don’t forget to interact with it, and comment your thoughts if you want. Nobody does and it would be nice to have some reviews, as it motives me to continue to actively share my fanfic on tumblr ! Having no interaction everytime I post is a bit discouraging to be honest.

Anyways, enjoy !

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Mags ! Mags is in danger ! That was her scream, in agony, with pure pain and terror. What was happening to her ? You didn’t know but you had to find out and go save her. You bolted away. You cut your face with the branches on your way, not caring one bit for the possible wounds and scratches it would leave. Because Mags was dying. 

Suddenly, you bump into Katniss, who was running after someone, after Finnick. He’s circling around a giant tree. You rush towards him and grab his hand.

“Finnick ! Where is Mags ?! MAGS !” you yell, and he seems as mad as you. His pupils are dilated twice the usual, and he grabs your arms with so much strength it hurts.

“Y/n ! I told you to stay away ! Now they will take you away from me, and hurt you just like they are hurting Mags !” he says in panic, his face pale and distorted in fear. 

Mags’s shrieks are emanating from somewhere in the foliage, up in the sky around that tree. It’s huge, the trunk close to four feet in diameter. Was Mags trapped in the branches ? You notice Katniss scaling an adjacent tree, then suddenly throws one of her arrows on a reagent. A bird falls down, right at Finnick’s and your feet. It’s a jabberjay. 

“What…” you whisper. Finnick lets your arms go and picks it up, slowly making the connection. You do too. It wasn’t Mags. She wasn’t here, in the forest. It was a damn bird, not her. But when Katniss slides down to join the two of you, Finnick looks more despairing than ever. 

“It’s all right, Finnick, y/n. It’s just a jabberjay. They’re playing a trick on us,” she says. “It’s not real. It’s not your… Mags.” 

“No, it’s not Mags. But the voice was hers. Jabberjays mimic what they hear. Where did they get those screams, Katniss ?” he says firmly as he gestures towards the dead bird.

“No, that can’t be- she sent me a sponsor yesterday !” you exclaim quickly, shaking your head in denial. Katniss's cheeks grow pale and Finnick looks at you, his eyes wide open. He grabs your bruised hand, forcing you to hear his words, his reasoning.

“It was yesterday, we are today. You don’t know what they could have done since then,” he answers you, squeezing your knuckles. 

“Oh, Finnick, you don’t think they…” starts Katniss. 

“Yes. I do. That’s exactly what I think,” he says seriously to the girl on fire, before he brings you in his shaky arms, trying to find comfort in whatever the three of you were imagining right now. Mags, being tortured in a room of the Capitol. They are hurting her to get those sounds. That’s what you were sure of, both Finnick and you. You shake in his arms, Katniss’s knees turn to water and she sinks to the ground. 

“Let’s get out of here !” he says to the both of you, but Katniss doesn’t hear him, instead focusing on another bird starting up somewhere off to her left. It seemed like it was the voice of a young man. She tries to run away towards the screams, but Finnick catches her arm before she can escape.

“No. It’s not him.” He starts pulling her and you downhill, toward the beach. “We’re getting out of here !” Yet she struggles, wanting to reach it. 

“Katniss, don't ! Let’s go !” you exclaim. “It’s not him, Katniss ! It’s a mutt !” Finnick shouts at her. “Come on !” He moves her along, half dragging, half carrying her, thanks to your help as you hold her arms, until she can process what the both of you said. She stops fighting. You all are struggling, your heart aching but resisting to go after the mutts. The wounds inflicted by the birds are deep, such an emotional hollow that you felt like turning mad. After all, you were the crazy girl of District 4 for something. 

You catch sight of Peeta and Johanna standing at the tree line. You wonder why they didn’t chase after you when things turned south. Didn’t they hear the screams ? Peeta hangs back, hands raised with his palms towards the three of you, lips moving but no words can be heard. The wall is so transparent that Finnick, Katniss and you run smack into it and bounce back onto the jungle floor. You groan in agony as your head is hurting like crazy. Katniss was lucky, her shoulder took the worst of the impact. It wasn’t the same for Finnick. He hit his face and now his nose is gushing blood. 

You caress the back of your head and you notice it’s bleeding. Thick and warm, just like what was raining in the jungle hours ago. You must have fallen on your head, more exactly on a rock. Everything is spinning. Did you have a concussion ? Finnick takes your face and helps you sit back up, but you can’t really make out what he is saying as your ears are ringing in a loophole. You take some seconds to calm down and understand what is happening. 

This is why Peeta and Johanna and even Beetee, who is shaking his head behind them, have not come to your rescue. An invisible barrier blocks the area in front of the three of you. It’s not a force field. You can touch the hard, smooth surface all you like. But Peeta’s knife and Johanna’s axe can't make a dent in it.

All of you know, without checking more than a few feet to one side, that it encloses the entire four-to-five-o’clock wedge. That you will be trapped like rats until the hour passes. Peeta presses his hand against the surface and Katniss puts her own up to meet it. Meanwhile, Finnick is whipping the blood from his nose as well as looking at the back of your head, worried it’ll get worse. 

“How is your head ?” he asks, inspecting the wound. But you don’t pay attention. 

“We’re trapped…” you whisper, groaning and moaning from the terrible headache you were experiencing right now. The blond keeps you against his torso, trying to anchor you against him and ease your pain.

Then the birds begin to arrive. One by one. Perching in the surrounding branches. And a carefully orchestrated chorus of horror begins to spill out of their mouths. Finnick directly covers your ears as you didn’t have the strength to do it by yourself, while you hunch the ground and whimper like a dying animal. The blond is breathing heavily in agony, hearing the sounds of the jabberjay was pure torture. Yet he was sacrificing his sanity for yours. 

Katniss is emptying her quiver of arrows into the birds. But every time one drops dead, another quickly takes its place. And finally she gives up and curls up beside you, trying to block out the excruciating sound. 

You hear every person you love, their voices distorted and haunting you over and over again. You don’t even want to imagine how Finnick is doing. With the little force you have, crying through hot tears of anger, you manage to lift your hands off the ground and smack them against his ears. Both of you are looking into each other's eyes, helping one another, trying to stay sane, but it’s a losing battle. 

Then, it stops. You are left quivering, both you and Finnick clutched together, like rigid corpses refusing to get separated. Johanna helps you, and brings the both of you out of the jungle. Peeta does the same for Katniss. He puts her on his lap. 

You keep your iron grip on Finnick, him too, to the point his nails were digging in your flesh. It’s only after some minutes that the both of you silently, slowly, let loose. Johanna, even if she wasn’t the best at reassuring, tries to say in a gentle voice that it was alright and the both of you escaped this nightmare. 

“Y/n…” whispers Finnick as he untangle his limbs from your body, but still keeps you close. He is breathing heavily, face still pale and muscles tensed. 

“It’s done… it ended… it ended... It ended…,” you keep repeating over and over again until you shut your lips and reassure yourself by listening to his abnormally quick heartbeat. “Thank you,” you whisper to both Finnick and Johanna. 

“The gamesmaker are trying to make you think that what you heard was real. It wasn’t their voice. They must have taken it from interviews and distorted the sounds to make it look like Mags was screaming,” explains Beete as he puts back his glasses. 

“She was getting tortured !” you exclaim, losing back your mind or any common sense.

“Beete is right… that’s only what they want us to think,” ends up answering Finnick, feeling better and getting back some colors on his face. You look at him, calming down. 

“We are almost down to the final eight of us. They interview the families and friends back home. That’s how they managed to record the voices of your loved ones. Both for you, and Katniss,” continues Beete, explaining calmly. Johanna doesn’t say much, because you know that if she was stuck in this part of the jungle, she wouldn’t feel anything. She had no more loved ones waiting for her at home. She had nobody. Nothing.

“Mags is fine, Mags is fine, Mags is fine,” you repeat to yourself. Like a mantra. Because that’s one of the only things keeping you sane, with Finnick’s presence at your side. Katniss, who was being reassured by Peeta, looks over at you for confirmation.

“Do you believe it, y/n ?” she asks. “It could be true. I don’t know,” you answer vaguely. “Beete said they could do that, right ? Take someone’s regular voice and make it…” you continue to say before swallowing your saliva.

“Oh, yes. It’s not even that difficult, Katniss. Our children learn a similar technique in school,” says Beetee to the girl. 

“Of course. The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on their hands,” says Johanna flatly. “Don’t want that, do they ?” She throws back her head and shouts, “Whole country in rebellion ? Wouldn’t want anything like that !”

Everyone’s mouth drops open in shock. No one, ever, says anything like this in the Games. Absolutely, they’ve cut away from Johanna, are editing her out. She picks up some shells and heads toward the jungle. “I’m getting you water,” she says. Katniss can’t help catching her hand as she passes her. “Don’t go in there. The birds-”

“They can’t hurt her, Katniss,” you whisper, giving a saddened look at Johanna.

“I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love,” Johanna says, and frees her hand with an impatient shake. She brings back a shell of water to Katniss, and she takes it with a silent nod of thanks. While Johanna collects water and Katniss’s arrows, Beetee fiddles with his wire, and Finnick takes to the water.

He makes you drink, bringing it to your dried lips. You still were feeling sore, and far away in your spiraling to even think to hydrate yourself. You gulp down slowly, he wipes carefully some of the falling drops on your chin with his thumb. He drinks too.

A cannon blast brings you all together on the beach. A hovercraft appears in what you estimate to be the six-to-seven-o’clock zone. You all watch as the claw dips down five different times to retrieve the pieces of one body, torn apart. It’s impossible to tell who it was. Peeta draws a new map on a leaf, adding a JJ for jabberjays in the four-to-five-o'clock section and simply writing beast in the one where you saw the tribute collected in pieces.

Finnick weaves yet another water basket and a net for fishing, while you rest in the shade next to Johanna that is distracting herself with her axes. Katniss takes a quick swim and puts more ointment on her skin. You look at her sitting at the edge of the water, cleaning the fish Finnick caught. You wanted to do it, but Johanna forced you to lay down. Your head was still hurting. You watch the sun drop below the horizon. The bright moon is already on the rise, filling the arena with that strange twilight. You’re all about to settle down to your meal of raw fish when the anthem begins. Cashmere. Gloss. Wiress. The woman from District 5. The morphling. Blight. The man from 10. Seven dead. Plus eight from the first night. 

“They’re really burning through us,” says Johanna. “Who’s left ? Besides us six and District Two ?” asks Finnick. “Chaff,” says Peeta, without needing to think about it. 

At the same time, a parachute comes down with a pile of bite-sized square-shaped rolls. You look at them intrigued. It’s only now that you realize how empty your stomach was.

“These are from your district, right, Beetee ?” Peeta asks. “Yes, from District Three,” he says. 

“How many are there ?” Finnick counts them, turning each one over in his hands before he sets it in a neat configuration. “Twenty-four,” he says. Twenty four, you repeat in your mind. It would be at midnight. On the third day, so tomorrow. They changed. The first day they were sent from district 4. There must have been a change in the plan. It’s sooner. The rescue is right at the corner. Will you survive until then ?

“An even two dozen, then ?” says Beetee. “Twenty-four on the nose,” answers Finnick. 

“How should we divide them ?” you ask. “Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest,” says Johanna. 

You wait until the giant wave has flooded out of the ten-to-eleven-o’clock section, wait for the water to recede, and then go to that beach to make camp. You don’t hear the buzzling sound in your ear anymore from falling down on the rock, instead there's an unpleasant chorus of clicking, coming from the eleven-to-twelve-o’clock wedge. Peeta and Katniss volunteer for the first watch because they are better rested, and because they probably want some time alone. The rest of you fall asleep immediately, yet Finnick’s sleep is restless. Every now and then he is murmuring Mag’s and your name. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ   

You rouse from your nightmares as you hear a lightning storm, the bolt hitting the three at midnight. Finnick sits up with a sharp cry, his fingers digging into the sand. You grab his hand, reassuring him that whatever happened in his dreams wasn’t real. He squeezes your knuckles.

“I can’t sleep anymore,” he says. “One of you should rest.” Only then does he seem to notice the expressions on Katniss and Peeta, how intimate they look, the way they’re wrapped around each other. “Or both of you. I can watch alone.” 

“I’ll come. It’s too dangerous,” you protest. He shakes his hand. “You lie down, y/n,” he retorts. You don’t listen to him and stand up, trying to look rested and in good shape. You fail. He sighs, but has no strength to object. And, Finnick needed you by his side, as much as you needed him.

You follow him, while he takes his trident and sits at the edge of the water. You let the waves gently caress your feet, the moonlight illuminating the two of you. In silence, the soft breeze brushing your skin, your hand finds his and you hold it. He doesn’t say anything, only intertwining his fingers with yours. They are calloused, yours are like minced meat, but none let go of each other. The both of you don’t need to talk. All emotions are speaking through your touches, through your eyes. Minutes pass like that, in silence, holding each other and thinking about tomorrow.

“Y/n, sleep. Lay next to me,” he breaks the silence by guiding you against the sand. 

“No, you sleep. I’ll guard. You need rest,” you protest for the second time, sitting back up but he slides his hand under your head, not wanting to hurt you, and forces you down on the ground. His body is over yours, pinning you so you couldn’t move away from his grasp. The green of his eyes tackles you down, showing all the despair he was feeling in this moment of vulnerability.

“I can’t. If I do, all I see is Mags getting tortured, or you dying in front of me. When you drowned and that I couldn’t do anything about it. So please, let me stay awake,” he pleads, not letting you sit back up. You sag, wrap your hands around his neck and softly use your thumb to cherish his cheeks.

“Mags is fine. I’m here. Alive. With you,” you confirm in a murmur, the sound of the waves echoing in the background. He doesn’t say anything, aside from taking some time before lifting your head. He brings water on the dried blood that formed at the back of your skull, gently cleaning it. 

While he takes care of you, you keep your eyes on his worried face. Time slips through your fingers. At some moments you groan of pain, which he answers by being more gentle. Once he is done, under the moon, he kisses your lips. You softly answer the sweet gesture, savoring one of the last moments of intimacy you will have the chance to experience before tomorrow morning. 

Exhausted, you fall asleep next to him, keeping your hand in his, as a reminder that he was by your side. Hours later, you wake up by the dazzling sun. 

“Come on, I’m burning. Let’s swim a bit,” says Finnick as he caresses your face to wake you up gently. You groan, rubbing your eyes with your free hand, as the other was still intertwined with his.

“Help me stand up, I’m too tired,” you mumble, looking like a petulant child as you didn’t have much rest that night, still feeling groggy. Finnick chuckles, and without warning, manages to lift you in his arms in bridal style while you hold his trident. In case danger would still be lurking around.

“What will you do without me, uh ?” he teases, kissing your forehead tenderly and walking towards the waves. “Nothing !” you chuckle, and actually, it was true. As much as him. He laughs too, smile lines appearing on his gorgeous face, and then you feel the fresh water caressing your body.

Both you and Finnick take a dip in the waves to refresh yourselves, then come back to the camp. You notice the descent of a parachute on the beach at the same time Katniss and Peeta join the group. It’s another delivery of bread, identical to the ones you received the night before. Twenty-four rolls from District 3. That gives thirty-three in all. You each take five. 

There is a slight tension as you eat, knowing that Katniss nor Peeta weren’t aware about the plan of keeping them alive for the rebellion and their rescue, they surely are thinking about how to kill anyone of you.

“Come on. I’ll teach you how to swim,” Katniss suddenly says as she takes the hand of Peeta and brings him towards the shallow wave, away from your group. You keep a watchful eye on them while Finnick checks the back of your head, making sure the bleeding stopped. Thankfully it did. 

Johanna is keeping a careful eye on them too, but eventually she loses interest and goes to take a nap. Finnick ends up weaving a new net out of vines and Beetee plays with his wire. You pass time by dozing off next to Johanna, playing with her hair as she lets you do whatever you wanted. When Katniss is finished with teaching Peeta how to swim, she turns and waves to Finnick. “Hey, Finnick, come on in ! We figured out how to make you pretty again ! ” You chuckle at this, as he smiles and gives you a knowing glance.

“I guess I still want to look pretty for you even before dying, honey. Watch me,” he jokes as he strolls towards the two. You roll your eyes and observe them from the shade. The three of them scour all the scabs from their bodies, helping with the others’ backs, and come out the same pink as the sky. 

They apply another round of medicine. You are the one doing it for Finnick, on purpose putting on plenty on his face and insisting around his mouth to recreate a mustache-shape-like. He laughs, takes some too and draws a mustache on your face as well, the same your stylist wears.

“Fancy,” he teases, which only results in the two of you giggling like idiots. You wonder if your stylists will notice that you were mocking him. He would surely scoff and say that the shape is ugly, just like the golden bangle around your wrist that proves you are an ally. Finnick ends up smearing the remaining cream on your face, leaving a sticky moisture ointment on your skin. You close your eyes when he does so, letting his gentle fingers on your cheeks, feeling the loving touch one last time. When you are close to an imminent death, you end up savoring every moment of your soon ending life. Even the most insignificant ones.

Beetee calls you over, and it turns out that during all those hours of fiddling with wire, he has indeed come up with a plan. “I think we’ll all agree our next job is to kill Brutus and Enobaria,” he says mildly. “I doubt they’ll attack us openly again, now that they’re so outnumbered. We could track them down, I suppose, but it’s dangerous, exhausting work.” 

“Do you think they’ve figured out about the clock?” Katniss asks. 

“If they haven’t, they’ll figure it out soon enough. Perhaps not as specifically as we have. But they must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they’re reoccurring in a circular fashion. Also, the fact that our last fight was cut off by Gamemaker intervention will not have gone unnoticed by them. We know it was an attempt to disorient us, but they must be asking themselves why it was done, and this, too, may lead them to the realization that the arena’s a clock,” says Beetee. “So I think our best bet will be setting our own trap.”

“Wait, let me get Johanna up,” says Finnick. “She’ll be rabid if she thinks she missed something this important.” 

“Or not,” Katniss mutters. He woke her up, and the first thing she said was mocking the mustache made of ointment. When she’s joined you, Beetee shoos you all back a bit so he can have room to work in the sand. He swiftly draws a circle and divides it into twelve wedges. It’s the arena, not rendered in Peeta’s precise strokes but in the rough lines of a man whose mind is occupied by other, far more complex things.

“If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest ?”

“Where we are now. On the beach,” says Peeta. “It’s the safest place.”

“So why aren’t they on the beach?” says Beetee. “Because we’re here,” says Johanna impatiently. “Exactly. We’re here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go ?” says Beetee.

“I’d hide just at the edge of the jungle. So I could escape if an attack came. And so I could spy on us,” says Katniss.

“Also to eat,” Finnick adds. “The seafood is safe, they must have seen us eat plenty,” you comment. Beetee smiles at you, clearly proud that nobody got a wrong answer and that you have exceeded his expectations. 

“Yes, good. You do see. Now here’s what I propose: a twelve o’clock strike. What happens exactly at noon and at midnight ?” 

“Tick, tock. The lightning bolt hits the tree,” you answer. 

“Yes. So what I’m suggesting is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at midnight, we run my wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o’clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted,” says Beetee. 

There’s a long pause while you all digest Beetee’s plan. You think about it, and you have no reasons to oppose it. 

“Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, Beetee ? It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up,” says Peeta, a bit suspicious for it to work.

“Oh, it will. But not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse, in fact. Except the electricity will travel along it,” admits Beetee. 

“How do you know ?” asks Johanna, clearly not convinced. 

“Because I invented it,” says Beetee, as if slightly surprised. 

“And where will we be when this happens ?” asks Finnick. "Wouldn't want to end like fried meat,” you add. “Far enough up in the jungle to be safe,” Beetee replies. 

“The Careers will be safe, too, then, unless they’re in the vicinity of the water,” Katniss points out. “That’s right,” says Beetee. “But all the seafood will be cooked,” retorts Peeta.

“Probably more than cooked,” says Beetee. “We will most likely be eliminating that as a food source for good. But you found other edible things in the jungle, right, Katniss ?” 

“Yes. Nuts and rats,” she mentions. “And we have sponsors.” 

“Well, then. I don’t see that as a problem,” says Beetee. “But as we are allies and this will require all our efforts, the decision of whether or not to attempt it is up to you.” 

“That sounds like a plan,” you shrug. 

“Why not ?” Katniss says. “If it fails, there’s no harm done. If it works, there’s a decent chance we’ll kill them. And even if we don’t and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too.”

“I say we try it,” says Peeta. 

“Katniss is right.” Finnick looks at Johanna and raises his eyebrows. “All right,” she says finally. “It’s better than hunting them down in the jungle, anyway. And I doubt they’ll figure out our plan, since we can barely understand it ourselves.”

Beetee wants to inspect the lightning tree before he has to rig it. Judging by the sun, he says it’s about nine in the morning. You all break camp, walk over to the beach that borders the lightning section, and head into the jungle. Beetee’s still too weak to hike up the slope on his own, so Finnick, you and Peeta take turns carrying him. Johanna leads. You are sweating like crazy, the temperature not skimping. It’s way too hot and heavy. Your body is damp, and not from sea water. You try to create some wind with a leaf, but it doesn’t change much. As you near the tree, Finnick suggests Katniss takes the lead. 

“Katniss can hear the force field,” he explains to you, Beetee and Johanna. 

“Hear it ?” asks Beetee. “How is that possible ?” you question as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. The mix of body fluids and the ointment on your skin makes you feel sticky.

“Only with the ear the Capitol reconstructed,” she explains. Beete looks at her weirdly. You do too, because you remember Beete and Wiress explaining to the three of you with Finnick at the training center, how to spot a force field. Not by hearing it. But maybe she was lying because cameras were recording you in this instant, and giving too much information on knowing how to really spot a force field could become a problem. So nobody questions her claim.

“Then by all means, let Katniss go first,” Beete says, pausing for a moment to wipe the steam off his glasses. “Force fields are nothing to play around with.” 

The lightning tree’s unmistakable as it towers so high above the others. You look at her finding a bunch of nuts and make everybody wait while she moves slowly up the slope, tossing the nuts ahead of her. She throws one directly in front of her and hears it sizzle in confirmation. “Just stay below the lightning tree,” she tells the others. 

You divide up duties. Finnick and you guard Beetee while he examines the tree, Johanna taps for water, Peeta gathers nuts, and Katniss hunts nearby. Beetee is still messing around the tree, taking measurements and such. About this time there is the sound of clicks rising from the sector adjacent to you. That means it’s eleven o’clock. You all listen intently. “It’s not mechanical,” Beetee says decidedly. “I’d guess insects,” Katniss adds. “Maybe beetles.” 

“Something with pincers,” adds Finnick. The sound swells, and it’s scarier than when it was loud and buzzling. You didn’t want to know what was on this side of the jungle.  “We should get out of here, anyway,” says Johanna. “There’s less than an hour before the lightning starts.” 

“I agree, there is no time to lose,” you finish. You all stand up and start to walk, but not very far. Only to the identical tree in the blood-rain section. That brings you memories. Blight. You shake your head and instead focus on what everyone was doing. They squat down to have a picnic of sorts. You eat, and Finnick is devouring the food. He must have been starving. Yet he makes sure you equally eat as much as him. Maybe even more. 

Now all you have to do it is wait for the bolt that signals noon.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ   

When the lightning strikes, it’s dazzling. You have to shut your eyes for a second. You all take a circuitous route back to the ten o’clock beach. As you walk on the sand, you feel it’s damp. Beetee essentially gives you all the afternoon off while he works with the wire. 

You go to swim in the waves with Finnick, doing a race with him towards the waves. Suddenly, he disappears in the water. You look around, when you feel hands wrapping around your body from behind, hands snaking on your waist. You get startled and glare at Finnick when he kisses the side of your neck, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Did I scare you ?” he asks. “Don’t swim too much, you’ll tire your leg. Should I remind you that you have an injury ?” you blame him as you spin around, but he anticipates your movement and chuckles. “I’m fine. And you have an injury too. Your hands and your head,” he retorts. Your face distorts in a grimace before you gain back seriousness, acting as if your head or your hands were okay.

“I’m fine,” you answer. Finnick raises an eyebrow, his hands tangling in your hair to reach the back of your skull. 

“I guess we’re both liars then,” he mused. You roll your eyes, and before you can say anything, he plunges you slightly in the shallow water and starts to clean the dried blood that again accumulated slightly during the last hours. 

“I can do it, you should instead focus on your leg,” you start to say, “let me take care of you, y/n. Please,” he says more seriously, so you let him do it, just like last night. Again, it’s intimate. You look at his eyes, and enjoy the careful touches of his fingers. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he suddenly smiles, lines forming on his cheeks. You frown, then chuckle slightly. “Like what ?” you ask.

“Like now. It makes me want to do things,” he starts in his typical sensual voice, softly kissing your lips, before parting ways in a breath, “but then I remember we are 24/7 recorded by cameras and that meters away we have our allies on the camp, watching us. I forgot how not having any privacy was torture,” he explains. You get silent, as you are reminded that every single one of your moves were recorded and plastered on each tv screen of Panem. You stand back up on your feet, wiping the water from your face and grab his hands. Your smile drops. For a second you forgot you were in the Arena. 

“You should go take a nap, at the camp. You need a lot of rest, you barely slept last night,” you change subject.

“I want to stay in the water with you, reminds me of 4,” he retorts, staying put and dragging you back with him. 

“Finnick, I swear, I’ll tie you up and bring you myself to that camp if you don’t walk there by yourself,” you threaten him as you point at him menacingly. He raises his brows and laughs slightly, amused at the idea of imagining you doing that. 

“Come on, stop laughing !” you exclaim as you literally have to drag him out of the water, back on the sand and towards the camp. You sit back down and tug on his arm to make him follow you and mimic your position. 

“Bossy,” he whispers before nestling his head on your thighs. With your hand, you gently caress his hair and smooth him to sleep. You dig your fingers in his scalp to ease the tension, and soon, he is dozing. You watch him sleep, even if it’s agitated. Each time there is a tension forming in between his brows, you softly massage him, and he always instantly relaxes again. 

Finnick only managed to sleep correctly when he was by your side. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ    

By late afternoon, everyone is awake.

You decide, since this might be your last chance for seafood, to make a sort of feast of it. Under yours and Finnick’s guidance, everyone spear fish and gather shellfish, even dive for oysters. Of course, that’s the blond mainly doing that. Just to tease you, he wraps seaweeds around your eyes while you chase after him with a ball of damp sand in your hand, trying to hit him with it.

It feels great, reminding you of home. Swimming, fishing, having fun. It all feels far away now, District 4. You will never be back there. Never again. 

Johanna keeps watch while you, Finnick, Peeta, and Katniss clean and lay out the seafood. Peeta’s just pried open an oyster when he laughs. “Hey, look at this !” He holds up a glistening, perfect pearl about the size of a pea. “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls,” he says earnestly to Finnick.

“No, it doesn’t,” says Finnick dismissively. He gives you a look and you raise an eyebrow. Katniss cracks up, showing that it was an inside joke in between the two of them. Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to Katniss. “For you.” Katniss takes it and you can’t help but comment how cute that gesture was. A moment passes as they look at each other.

“The locket didn’t work, did it ?” Peeta asks. You don’t understand what he means by that. “Katniss ?” “It worked,” she says. “But not the way I wanted it to,” he finishes, averting his glance. After that he looks at nothing but oysters. 

Just as you all are about to eat, a parachute appears bearing two supplements to your meal. A small pot of spicy red sauce and yet another round of rolls from District 3. Finnick, of course, immediately counts them. “Twenty-four again,” he says. You each take five.

“What a feast,” you say excitedly as you stuff yourself with the food like a starved animal, until you can’t hold another bite. You look at Finnick eating the oysters, and he winks at you, his mouth digging in the seashell. Because he knew you liked to look at him eat. 

Once everyone is done with eating, all you can do is wait. Wait until the final part of the plan. You give a look to Johanna, and she silently glances at Katniss’s arm. 

Finnick brings you closer. He gently caresses your skin, and kisses the side of your head against your hair. You nest against his side. “Everything will be fine,” he whispers in your ear, sensing your nervosity. You look at him, before sighing and snuggling your head in his neck, wrapping your arms around his tense body. You look at the waves, thinking about a future you will never have. Marrying the man that you loved, starting a family, being free, loving him without being afraid. It’s all but a distant dream, something unattainable. 

You hope everything will turn out how it’s supposed to.

May the odds be in your favor. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

The anthem begins, but there are no faces in the sky tonight. You know that people must be frustrated because of the lack of deaths. At what your group judged to be about nine, you leave your shell-strewn camp, cross to the twelve o’clock beach, and begin to quietly hike up to the lightning tree. The moon is up in the sky, allowing you to see where you are walking in the dense vegetation. You already slipped way too often on these grounds, paying the price. You wouldn’t want it to happen again. You grab the arm of Finnick, around his bicep, walking side by side. Making sure you were stepping straight. 

The climb is not that hard, being filled with energy thanks to the meal you had earlier, stomach full. It helps you digest the oysters. Beetee asks Finnick and you to assist him, and the rest of the group stand guard. Before he even attaches any wire to the tree, Beetee unrolls yards and yards of the stuff. He has you and Finnick secure it tightly around a broken branch and lay it on the ground. Then you stand on either side of the tree, passing the spool back and forth as you wrap the wire around and around the trunk. It creates a pattern, similar to a maze.

“Let me finish, y/n. You’re damaging your hand when tying it too tight,” he comments as he grabs your wrist to stop you in the middle of your work. Your eyes fell on your flesh, it was indeed bleeding.

“Alright. Always thoughtful, uh ?” you tease him, which he answers by an “always, honey”.

Once he is done, Beete reveals the rest of the plan. He wants Johanna and Katniss to take the coil down through the forest and unwind the wire as they travel towards the water. They have to lay it across the twelve o’clock beach and drop the metal spool deep into the waves, making sure it sinks. Then run for the jungle. 

“I want to go with them as a guard,” Peeta says immediately. “You’re too slow. Besides, I’ll need you on this end. Katniss will guard,” protests Beetee. “There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now.” He hands the coil to Johanna.

“It’s okay,” says Katniss to Peeta. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“Not into the lightning zone,” Beetee reminds her. “Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o’clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage.” 

Katniss takes Peeta’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She gives him a kiss and, before he can object any further, turns to Johanna. “Ready ?” “Why not ?” says Johanna with a shrug. Then they leave you alone with Beete, Finnick, and an anxious Peeta.

You put your hand on his shoulder. “Katniss will be ok. Once she's done, she’ll come back to you,” you try to reassure him. Peeta nods as he passes his hand on his blondish hair, trying to stay calm. Finnick stares. He understood how the boy felt, because if he was in the same situation as him, he would never fully trust anyone. 

You stay around the tree as you keep your spear in your hand, guarding in case Enobaria or Brutus would suddenly arrive. Finnick stays close, trident positioned menacingly and looking around the trees surrounding you. Beete continues his business, Peeta helping him. It’s silent, aside from the horrible strident sound of the jungle in the background, never ending nor even stopping for once. 

“They should soon be done,” says Finnick, giving a pat to Peeta. You glance at them, keeping an eye on the boy, making sure he is okay, or won’t try anything stupid. You and Finnick were looking at each other, knowing that time was approaching, and soon there would be the rescue.

You prayed silently that for these last moments, you’ll survive at Finnick’s side, and be rescued by District 13 once they pick up Katniss and Peeta. It was a stupid wish, because the moment you agreed with the plan months ago, you accepted your death. Yet, you couldn’t help but hang and grip that rope of hope. Even if that turned your hands to rot, endlessly. 

After some minutes, you notice when looking down, that the wire has gone slack. What happened ? Confused, you turn around.

“The wire,” says Beete, putting back his glasses as he senses that things are turning south. He knew he had to change plans and do something else. “Peeta, give me one of your knives,” he orders and the blond, still confused, not knowing what it meant, takes one and gives it to Beete. 

“It’s coming back to the tree !” exclaims Finnick, and Peeta’s face turns pale. Oh no, that wasn’t what was supposed to happen. What could have gone wrong ? Were Katniss and Johanna okay ? You look at the wire in confusion, swallowing your saliva.

“Katniss !” says the boy in panic, but you grip his arm before he could intend to run towards the depths of the jungle, where they went and disappeared.

“Don’t. As long as we didn’t hear the cannon, nothing proves that she died. Johanna is with Katniss to protect her,” you explain firmly. He’s agitated, and Finnick steps up.

“I’ll go check on them, you two stay safe here with Beete,” he says firmly, giving you one last look with a firm kiss on your forehead and dashing away, running down next to the wire. You can barely protest or utter his name, only a broken syllable of worry escaping your lips in an attempt to pronounce “Finnick”.

You swallow your saliva a second time and look at Peeta. The both of you, even without being close or friends, understood the deepness of the despair and worry you had for Finnick, and him, Katniss. It was the same feeling, raw and terrifying.

The boom of a cannon pulls you up short. Someone has died. You open your eyes wide, heart beating incredibly fast. It could be anyone. It could be Finnick.

“Katniss !” screams Peeta, and before you can comprehend, he runs away towards the sound of the cannon. “No !” you exclaim, and look at Beete with confusion, anxiety eating you alive because nothing was going according to plan.

“Go after him ! I’ll deal with the wire, don’t worry !” he exclaims. Unsure, you hesitate for a second, but by the look in his eyes it made you understand there was no other choice. So you run after Peeta, leaving Beete alone and defenseless, with the responsibility of succeeding in destroying the force field with the broken wire weighing down on his shoulders.

“Peeta !” you call for him in an exclaim, rushing through the trees and branches, breathing heavily. Where did he go ? You feel like wanting to throw up, all the food you ate coming back in your throat. You swallow it with difficulty and desperately try to find him. He couldn’t have gone far with his leg. 

You suddenly hear Peeta calling for Katniss. You rush towards him as you scream his name. He notices you, on guard, as he doesn’t know if you still are on his side or a threat. He had red fresh blood on his skin, as if he just fought someone, or killed them. You directly choose the option that he killed someone, one of the last tributes. Maybe Brutus, or Enobaria. 

“The lightning will soon hit the tree, don’t go there ! It’s too dangerous ! ” you say as you grab his hand, trying to stop him.

“What if she went back ?” he responds harshly, yanking his wrist away from your grip. “Katniss !” he continues to yell in an attempt to have her hear him in the jungle. You follow Peeta, spear guarded at your side in case someone would try to go after you. Suddenly, there is another cannon. Who else died ?! You sweat, and feel like fainting under the sheer pressure. The blond gets even more panicked and he runs in another direction.

“Peeta, be careful !” you yell as he falls. You groan, rushing after him. His prosthetic leg was giving up. Great.

“Get on my back !” you order him, and as he hesitates, you squat down to allow him better access so he could climb successfully. He does so, and you struggle at first to get back up. He weighs around the same as Beete. You could do it. You give yourself some credit, starting to walk even though you just wanted to abandon him and go search for Finnick. But you don’t, so you continue. Come on, you could do it !

“Katniss, where are you ?!” he continues to scream as he grips himself to your shoulders. You frown, perseverating, running faster towards safety. It was hard, supporting someone else on your back was a heavy burden. Because now, you could barely rely on yourself to be able to counter attack if one of another tribute, like Enobara, would come at you. But you couldn’t let Peeta die.

“Where are you going ?! We have to go get Katniss ! Let me down !” he protests, trying to wiggle out of your hold. He was stronger and taller than you for that matter, and if he wanted to, he could easily knock you down by punching your head at the right angle. But you had your spear. Yet he had his knives, and with him on your back, you couldn’t do much.

“You can’t run anymore, Peeta ! Look at your leg !” you yell in a broken voice, tired of all this. He understands what you meant and he stops struggling. You start again to walk, instead of running, because you don't have the strength anymore. You were tired, almost exhausted. You still try to do it fast. At any second the lightning could strike the tree, there was no time to lose.

In impatience, you look up at the sky. Midnight was right at the corner. 

“Oh my-” you barely have the time to say when you see, flying in the air, an arrow pulling the thread of gold behind it and vanishing into the night. Katniss. Peeta can only lift his head up to follow the lead, before it’s too late. The lightning strikes the tree, in an explosion, the dome busts into a dazzling blue light. It cuts your words mid sentence.

Peeta and you are thrown backwards to the ground in a loud thud, choking a breath as your lungs are knocked out violently. You can’t breathe. You can’t move. You can’t do anything but see that the plan worked, the force field blown. The sky is filled with stars, fire, trees burning to ashes. You reach for Peeta with a shaky hand to make sure he is alive. 

He isn’t moving, you can’t know if he survived the explosion. You are left laying on the ground in your own pool of blood, dried lips and breathing in a broken wheeze.

“Finnick….” is your whisper. Is he alive ? Did he find Katniss ? Will you be reunited ? Will you die here before you are rescued ? Everything fades in a blur. Yet, you can hear Finnick’s voice in the back of your mind. Far away, distant, a whisper, an echo of some kind. It’s sweet, loving.

It’s warm. You remember the sun caressing your skin in District 4. The summer waves rocking your body. The heat making you sweat, but the sea wind refreshing you and Finnick. Being in his arms, kissing his lips, merging into his chest. Talking for endless hours, laughing until you couldn’t breath, teasing, caring, loving each other.

It’s all but a distant memory. 

It’s warm. Too warm. You open back your eyes, fire is approaching you. Soon, you will burn to the ground. No, Peeta has to survive. You blink, tears streaming down but evaporating because of the hot air surrounding you. A hovercraft materializes above you, and hope fills your heart. They came. District 13 came to save you all. Finnick…

The claw drops and first takes Peeta. You breathe again in a wheeze, your lungs killing you. It hurts too much, you are agonizing, but you have to survive. You have to survive to reunite with Finnick.

Peeta looks alive. Then, it’s your turn. The claw comes for you, wraps around your broken body and lifts you up. You feel yourself losing consciousness. Excited that the plan succeeded, and hoping that when you will wake up, Finnick will be at your side.

But before your eyes close, your heart skips a beat. Terror washes over you, as you come to the realisation that it wasn’t a hovercraft from District 13.

It was from the Capitol.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

When you wake up, it’s so sudden that you try to scream, but you can’t. The first thing that you notice as you blink away tears from your eyes, is that you are in a white room, bright to the point you think for a second that you woke up in the Arena under the dazzling sun. But there is no sound of the jungle, no warmth, no more allies, no Finnick.

You hear the beep of a machine, and you slowly turn your head. The back of your skull is hurting you as if a hammer was knocking your head over and over again, yet you realise you can’t move that much. Your eyes fall on your body. You look in horror as you realise that you are tied to a white bed, straps strangling your flesh against the hospital robe you are wearing.

What happened ? Where are you ? You try to scream again, but your voice is muffled. You have a tissue gaging you, preventing you from uttering a word, wrapped around your head.

You start to hyperventilate, realising one of your worst nightmare was crawling back to you. You were tied to something, waiting for death, and unable to escape. Exactly like on that tree five years ago, during your games. No, no, that can’t be. Finnick trained you months after months, for years. Making you able to escape any kind of ropes keeping you a prisoner. Untying any possible knot. But now, it was worse than any situation you could face.

You were, for sure, captured by the Capitol and not by District 13. Unable to know if the plan really worked to the end, tied to a bed unable to escape, and away from Finnick without having the possibility to know if he was alive or not. 

You try to scream, to escape, struggling like a wild animal, reaping your flesh from the sheer amount of pressure inflicted on your skin at each sudden move in an attempt to break free. It’s only after ten minutes of pure madness that assistants of the Capitol, -you knew it because of a symbol representing it drawn on their clothes-, in white blouses and surgical masks, suddenly enter the white room. They rush towards you, syringe in hand, as you try one last time to scream in agony. The sharpness of the needle hits you all at once as they drug you. Your head falls back on the mattress, trying to fight the sickening feeling of losing consciousness against your will, but it’s too late. 

You close your eyes. And you don't sleep, because the drug causes sedation. You are left in a fuzzy misery, unable to know if it lasted forever or a second, falling in a loophole of utter despair and madness.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

This time, you are awake more calmly. It was against your consent, body heavily drugged and unable to properly think or form coherent thoughts. Everything is blurry. The door gets opened again. The same doctors enter the padded room, followed by peacekeepers with heavy weapons guarded against them. The last person to enter is an old man with white hair, and the nauseous smell of blood and roses.

President Snow.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, miss y/n,” says the old man as he approaches your bed. Your mouth feels dry, and it’s only now that you realize that the tissue that was gaging you, disappeared. You open your lips, yet your vocal cords are too sensitive after screaming to the top of your lungs hours ago, or days ago, or even weeks ago. You don’t know how much time has passed since you first woke up here.

“I see that you and your little boyfriend betrayed me. Miss y/n, you know that I hate traitors. Aside from faking madness, I am aware that you are smart enough to understand what I do to people like you,” he continues as with his snake-like eyes, stares right into your soul. You couldn’t lie to this man. He knew almost everything, because he had ears and eyes everywhere. Yet, with all your might, you glare at him as intensely as he does.

“Your whole squad of rebels will pay the price. But I won’t throw you out to the trash that easily. You’ll do me the favor to explain to me what was that plan of yours, and who else was involved,” he smiles. A smile so creepy that it makes your skin crawl. The kind of smile that seemed polite, maybe even calm and nice. But really, it was deadly, poisonous. Like the murderous snake he was.

“Finnick…” you manage for the first time to utter, voice ragged. It hurts to talk. His name was the only thing you could think about, because at that moment, you only cared about him and him only.

“My little golden boy ? Capitol’s dearest ? He betrayed me too, so he paid the price,” the white haired man answers in a shrug that seemed uninterested. Because torturing people, killing them, humiliating them and murdering their whole family and friends never affected him in the slightless.

“What did you do to him ?!” is what you scream, voice cracking pathetically. Instantly, guns are pointed at your head and doctors slam you down on the mattress extremely violently.

“What did you do to him ?! What did you do ?! What did you do ?!” you repeat over and over again, blood pressure rising and heart beating wildly fast. You don’t care about the weapons threatening you, the hands restraining you, his gaze boring into yours. You wanted an answer, and now. You scream, in pure rage, and President Snow stands up from his sitting position. He looks down at you, as if you were a wounded animal he was ready to give the final blow and bring it to its death.

“Bring her to the torture room,” he simply says. Your eyes are wide open, and you choke on a breath. Everything goes fast. Hands grab you, and you are free. You are untied from the bed, yet the moment you put a foot on the ground, arms catch you and immobilize you. In an attempt to move away, guns, loaded, are again pressed on your head. You can’t move, aside from your legs, as they force you to follow them in the corridor.

They make you walk, and your legs are weak. You can barely stand, but they don’t care. The corridor is empty, soulless, gray and way darker than your padded room. From afar, you can hear screams in another place. You feel like you recognize that voice. A male one.

Fear eats you alive, and even if you try to run away, you can’t. A door is opened, and you bump into someone. Someone blond, looking pale and in a horrible condition with bloodshot eyes and trembling limbs. He is attached in a straitjacket, his limbs immobilized aside from his legs, being forced to walk towards another room as well. You immediately recognize the person as your irises met his.

“Peeta !” you exclaim. He raises his head, as surprised as you, and tries to turn around to realize that you were here, and you do as well. You then remember that he got captured at your side in the Arena, the Capitol hovercraft’s craw dragging you from the burning ground. He was in the same situation as you, getting tortured for informations that he didn’t even have. Because Peeta and Katniss were clueless about the plan. But you weren’t.

Whatever happened behind these closed doors, will happen to you too.

“Peeta ! Don’t trust any of them ! Don’t trust anything they say ! Don’t-” you are cut short as the metal part of the weapon of one of the peacekeepers violently hits your head to shut you up. You whimper in agony as they throw you in the room that Peeta just left. You fall on the ground, yet they drag you back to a chair and force you to sit down on it.

Whatever happens next, your soul leaves your body, barely being able to sense anything anymore aside from suffering. You were just flesh and bones, trapped in hell. Each time they use the bizarre device that electrocuts you head to toe whenever you refuse to answer a question, then get wet, then get electrocuted, all your feelings disappear to leave you lifeless and to the bridge of death.

“I don’t know !” you repeated for the seventh time, screaming at the top of your lungs when they asked you who else was involved in the rebellion of the Arena and District 13.

Buzz, electricity conducts your body as you are paralyzed in misery, voice unable to pronounce any last word. It repeats, again and again and all over again. After an hour, all you could do was cry, begging Finnick to come save you, whispering his name every second as if it was the only thing keeping you sane enough to continue to endure this torture. Then they put water on you, and you don’t know if you are drowning or not.

“Finnick, Finnick, Finnick…”

You faint because of your body giving out.

When you wake up again, tubes connected to your body made to keep you alive are all over you. You were back in what seemed like the padded room. You try to breathe, and you hear a voice next to you. You blink once, your ears ringing. The voice continues. You blink twice, and then softly turn your head on your pillow to look at the woman next to you. Her head was shaved, and she looked as bad as you.

“Here goes the sleepy head. It’s been hours that I am waiting for you to wake up. All alone. I started to be bored. Didn’t you wake up at Peeta’s screams ? They were very loud,” comments the woman in what seemed like a detached voice, but really, she looked like she was about to snap.

“Johanna ?” you whisper, opening wider your eyes. She was here, with you. You felt relieved for a second that you weren’t alone, to see your friend in front of you, and not dead like you would have thought. But then you remember where you are, and that you shouldn’t feel relieved to see her. Because she was in hell.

“You are alive ?” you murmur, not very loud, because your throat hurts. She was in a straitjacket, you realize that you are too. You try to move your arms, you barely can shift them in the tissue. Her bed is the same as yours, two meters away from you. She looked skinnier, carnation white as a ghost, bruises all over her body, and eyes lacking life. Soulless.

“Well, not for long,” she answers as she looks back at the ceiling.

“What did they do to you ?” you ask, but get interrupted by the screams of Peeta from behind the walls. Whatever was happening to him, reminds you of the torture you experienced before fainting. The exact same ones, screams of despair and anguish. Unbothered by what she heard, or acting like it, Johanna shrugs.

“Electric shocks just like you, and being soaked in water. Fun, right ?” she mocks, surely to downplay the horrible situation you both were trapped in.

“Yeah, very fun,” you mutter, head falling back on the pillow. You had nothing more to say to your friend, because sorrow was eating you alive. And what could you do ? Nothing. You were destined to be tortured and then killed once they would think that you are useless.

All you could think about was Finnick, and if he was alive, or if he got captured by the Capitol too. It’s hard to think. You want to cry, you can’t, you wasted all your tears earlier. You get cut short in your doom when the door is opened and the same doctors that inflicted you the electric shocks enter the room. In an instinct of fear, your first reflex is to back away, even though you can’t move from your bed.

Yet, they don’t go for you, but for Johanna. They take her brutally, and she insults them and tries to break free. You knew where they would bring her, and if it wasn’t, it would be worse, because it could be her death.

“She doesn’t know anything ! Leave her be, you bastards ! Leave her alone ! She knows nothing !” you try to defend her, even though she knows almost everything. They don’t listen to you, and the girl gives you one last glance as they throw her out in the corridor. The door closes behind them. You are left silent, looking desperate to do something and help her, but you can’t, being powerless and defenseless.

Minutes pass, waiting for something, surely for death to take you away. Staring at the ceiling. Hoping that back in District 13, everything went for the best. Finnick, Finnick, where are you ?

It’s only later that the door opens again. At first you think the doctors were coming for you, but they don’t. President Snow, accompanied by peacekeepers, faces you. He is not wearing the same clothes from last time, so you can deduce that at least one day has passed since then. You don’t say anything, looking at him in silence.

“How are you feeling, y/n ?” he asks, politely but you want to spit at his face. He was too far away for this. You hated him to the point it made you want to skin him alive and hang his body in public. You would have preferred for President Snow to act like the true mad man he was, instead of this fake kindness, because it hurts twice more.

“Fuck you,” you spat, glaring at him. He smiles, his eyes showing nothing but disgust for your person. You do too.

“Now, that’s not how you talk to your President,” he muses, shaking his head in disappointment. He reeked like blood again, contrasting with the sterilized smell of the padded room. Exactly like the hospital you had to stay at when you won your games. It brings back memories, but you chase them away. Because you had to ask something crucial.

“Where, is, Finnick,” you say word by word with hatred. President Snow crosses his hands behind his back and approaches you step by step, like a predator stalking its prey. He stands menacingly at the end of your bed, peacekeepers staying posted at the door and ready to aim if anything happened or if you tried something funny. His eyes bore into yours, he doesn’t answer. In this posture, he looks intimidating. His shadow casting over you.

“There is no more Finnick Odair,” he simply says. Your stomach drops and you feel like your heart just stopped to beat in the twistest way possible.

“What ?” you whisper with a tiny voice, unable to talk louder as you were silenced by what he said.

“Finnick Odair is dead. I killed him. Worse, you are the one with his blood on your hands.”

END OF THE FIRST PART- CATCHING FIRE

chapter 5

tag list : @winterbearwonderland

[maeedrg]

UNTIL PANEM IS FREE

chapter 3

75th Hunger Games Finnick Odair x reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

ch1, ch2, currently reading chap 3, ch4

summary : you are thrown in the Arena with Finnick, but everything doesn’t go according to plan. Staying by his side, alive and safe, seems harder than you thought. Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin !

words count : 10k.

warnings : blood, murder, death, violence

_________________________________________________

The stage is in pure chaos. The lights go out, peacekeepers separate you and scream for Victors to go back to the training center. Finnick keeps his hand in yours as you panic, bringing you closer to him while everyone gets pushed away. You both, with Johanna, try to spot where Katniss and Peeta went. They are going inside an elevator. The moment you intend to follow them, peacekeepers block your way and you can only see them shooting upward alone. In defeat, you are brought to another elevator.

Once the doors open, Mags is in distress and joins the two of you. She explains that outside it's madness, and that everyone has been sent home. They canceled the recap of the interviews on television as well. When she is done explaining, you look at her nervously, and Finnick suddenly hugs her. Because he knew that she would never see him again once she would leave to retreat to her dorm. Tomorrow morning, tributes only see their stylists before the games. No mentors. Your stomach sinks, realizing that the woman that you treated like your grand-mother will never be by your side again. 

“Be careful, Mags. I love you,” you whisper as you hug her too. She reassures you, kissing the top of your head and saying that she will do her best to help you survive and gather as many sponsors as she could. She asks the both of you to keep an eye on each other and never get separated once in the Arena. Together, you were strong. Parted ways, you were lost and confused. It’s in tears that she has to leave.

When everything calms down, you are in the room with Finnick. Your last night together. Anxiety is eating you alive as you curl up against him.

“If everyone is asking right now for President Snow to stop the games, do you think he will reconsider it ?” you ask as your nails trail down his torso, making him shiver. 

“There is no way Snow will stop the games. No matter what, he’ll keep them,” Finnick answers as he hugs you closer. He closes his eyes, kisses your lips and tightens his grip.

“I guess tomorrow is really the end, then,” you sigh in utter defeat, shoulders sagging. Finnick feels your inner turmoil, but he feels his too. His fingers intertwined with your left hand, caressing your knuckles and bringing them to his lips. A gentle kiss to ease your nerves, green eyes calming you down.

“No, we said we will fight. Let’s survive at least some days. And let’s hope Heavensbee’s plan will work,” he retorts. You nod, trying to stay determinated.

That night, it was hard to fall asleep. You didn’t want this last moment of peace to end. You were too scared of the Arena as well to be able to sleep without nightmares. The only thing that lulled you to sleep were the calming heart beats of Finnick. Soothing, you layed on his chest and ended up closing your eyes due to exhaustion. At dawn, your stylist comes to get you. You have to leave Finnick. Before you step away, he kisses you as if he would never breathe again without your lips. His forehead is against yours, inhaling deeply.

“First thing we do, we don’t get killed and then join the Mockingjay. More importantly, let’s not get separated,” he tells you one last time before your stylist guides you to the roof. It’s hard to not run back to your lover, but you know you can’t. The hovercraft is already there, you mount the ladder and the electric current freezes you in place. Once you are inside, a doctor approaches and injects a tracker inside your forearm. It stings, but it’s what will make them be able to locate you in the Arena. You force yourself to eat breakfast, and for your own good, you try as much as possible to put you in the position of a killing machine. You are from district 4, being a career, and this mindset has to come back if you want to join Finnick. Later, you reach the Launch Room at the Arena. Your stylist gives you this year’s tribute outfit. Its a fitted blue jumpsuit, made of very sheer material, that zippers up the front. A six-inch-wide padded belt covered in shiny purple plastic. A pair of nylon shoes with rubber soles. When you thought you were done, your stylist grabs your wrist and puts something around it.

“Here, keep this, y/n. I think it’s not very pretty, a bit ugly, but they told me to give you this,” he explains, caressing his mustache. You look down at your wrist, intrigued. A solid-gold bangle patterned with flames. You remember seeing it around the wrist of the mentor of Katniss and Peeta. Haymitch. You directly understand. 

“And Finnick ?” you ask, frowning.

“Don’t worry, he has one too,” he nods, answering you. Then, he inhales a deep breath and takes your hands in his. You were used to your stylist acting like this, having no real boundaries with you, but this time it felt different. The look in his eyes shows remorse, sadness and even a hint of despair.

“It’s time for our goodbyes. It was a pleasure being your stylist these past five years, even though I know you hated me. But what can I say, I like this wild side of you. So, fight well,” he confesses, taking you in his arms before you could notice the tear at the corner of his eye. You didn’t know how to react. You did hate him, but at this moment, emotions are swirling in your stomach. You hug him back slightly, tapping his back gently. It was a bit awkward.

“Goodbye,” you whisper. You force yourself to not have a single tear. There was no time for emotions.

He steps back, and waves at you before leaving. He didn’t have the strength to see you going up. At the same moment, the plate begins to rise. You straighten your back, ready to face anything coming your way. Wind directly makes you shiver, but right after the sun is blinding you. The rays are warm, maybe a bit too warm, with the mix of a breeze. It doesn’t take more than a second for you to smell something familiar. It smells like District 4. It smells like the sea. It smells like home.

As you look around you, waves that lap at your boots are surrounding each tribute. It’s everywhere, and for a second you feel relieved because you know how to swim, compared to a lot of other victors. There was no pool in the training center, making it impossible to learn. That gives District 4 an enormous advantage. If other tributes didn’t know how to swim, they better be fast learners if they didn’t want to die during the first minutes precessing the bloodbath. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin !” The voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games announcer, is loud and clear. In less than a minute, there will be the gong. Quick, you have to spot Finnick, Katniss, surely Peeta, and analyze the Arena. 

The water is blue, the sky baby pink in contrast with the dazzling sun that hurts your eyes. At the center, the Cornucopia. It’s a shining gold metal horn forty yards away from you. It's on a small island with twelve strips of land radiating from the circle like the spokes on a wheel with two tributes on each side. At the horizon, you spot a beach with a weird type of forest that you have never seen before.

Now, you have to find Finnick. You look around as panic starts to build up. The sun is too bright, you can only notice Katniss and Johanna aside from other tributes that aren’t your allies. The good thing is that you knew if you went to Katniss, Finnick would too. 

The gong sounds, and at the same second you dive in the water as quickly as possible. You notice that your outfit is not made to swim, but to float. You sprint on the sandy stretch of the Cornucopia, apparently being the first one that arrived thanks to your incredible speed and competences in swimming. Finnick’s weapon was a trident, you, a spear. You need to get one, now. The supplies are piled at the twenty-foot-high mouth. You spot the weapon you were searching for, you dash and grab it instantly. Suddenly, a hand is on your waist. Your skin crawls, spin around, ready to stab the tribute with your spear. You stop the blade right at Finnick’s throat before you actually slice it in two.

“Happy to see you back, honey,” he teases as he holds a trident in his left hand. He is glistening in salty water. Seeing him back like this makes you remember your time at the sea when spending summer together at District 4. Not like now, when death was surrounding you. 

“Finnick !” you exclaim surprised and relieved as well, before directly lowering your weapon.

“Let’s find Katniss and get the hell out of here,” he continues as he beckons you to follow him. It doesn’t take long as she is the third one on the Cornucopia. She yanks free a golden bow, but gets alerted by the presence behind her. She pulls an arrow from the sheath that’s still wedged in the pile and arms her bow as she turns. Finnick smiles, yet he is ready to strike in case it goes south, muscles rigid in anticipation. Meanwhile, you shift on your side to protect his back in case someone else arrives and tries to stab him when he isn’t looking.

“You can swim too,” he says. “How come you can when you are from District Twelve?” you add as you glance at the girl for a second. 

“We have a big bathtub,” she answers. “You must,” Finnick says. “You like the arena ?” 

“Not particularly. But you should. They must have built it especially for you two,” she says with an edge of bitterness. You scoff slightly, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Yet, you didn’t trust the gamesmaker when thinking back about the tsunami they provoked during your own games. 

For a moment you all are frozen, sizing each other up, your weapons, your skills. She eyes your spear, the trident. Then Finnick suddenly grins. “Lucky thing we’re allies. Right ?” You notice his wrist, the same as yours. 

Katniss doesn’t seem convinced, frowning. You sense that she is about to let her arrow fly, when he shifts his hand and something on his wrist catches the sunlight. You lift your free hand as well where the golden bracelet is situated, showing to Katniss that you were part of it.

“My stylist thinks it’s ugly,” you comment sarcastically, because the situation was somewhat ridiculous even though any of you could die at any second. 

“Duck !” Finnick commands Katniss in such a powerful voice, so different from his usual seductive purr. She does. At the same time, Finnick shifts on the side to let you throw your spear towards the man from District 5. You were quicker than his trident, explaining why you silently understood that he wanted you to be the one to attack. It goes flying over Katniss’s head, digging into your target’s chest in a sickening sound. He falls on his knees and you snatch the blade from his flesh. 

“Don’t trust One and Two,” Finnick says. Katniss works the sheath of arrows free. 

“Each takes one side ?” she asks. “I’ll go with you,” you instantly say as you nod to Finnick and dart with her around the pile. About four spokes apart, Enobaria and Gloss are just reaching land. Either they’re slow swimmers or they thought the water might be laced with other dangers, which it might well be. But now that they’re on the sand, they’ll be here in a matter of seconds. 

“Anything useful ?” you hear Finnick shout. Both you and Katniss quickly scan the pile on your side. All you can find are maces, swords, bows and arrows, tridents, knives, spears, axes, etc. But no food, not other survival supplies.

“It’s only freaking weapons !” you yell back in anger. The gamemakers really wanted you all to struggle this year. “Same here,” he confirms. “Grab what you want and let’s go !”

Your instinct flares. You shift around and throw your spear towards Enobaria. It brushes her leg but she dove back into the water before you could lethally hurt her. Katniss sinks an arrow into Cato’s calf as he plunges into the waves. She slings an extra bow and a second sheath of arrows over her body. As she continues to grab other weapons, you grab long knives and put them into your belt. You felt like you would need them to cut the dense vegetation of this strange forest at the horizon. Then, you two meet up with Finnick at the front of the pile. Thankfully, he looks fine.

“Do something about that, would you ?” he says to Katniss as Brutus is barreling toward your squad. His belt is undone and he has it stretched between his hands as a kind of shield. She shoots at him and he manages to block the arrow with his belt before it can skewer his liver. 

“He clearly doesn’t want to die,” you comment as you still are catching back your breath, Finnick staying close to you like a guard dog. Even though you both were the guard dogs of each other, and now of Katniss too. As she reloads, Brutus flattens on the ground, rolls the few feet to the water, and submerges. 

“Let’s clear out,” she says. This last altercation has given Enobaria and Gloss time to reach the Cornucopia. Brutus is within shooting distance and somewhere, certainly, Cashmere is nearby too. You spot Peeta as you notice how Katniss, in distress, is looking around for him. He is still stranded on his metal plate. She starts removing knives from her belt, preparing to swim out to reach him and somehow bring him in. Finnick drops a hand on her shoulder. 

“I’ll get him.” 

“I can,” she insists. “Katniss, trust him. Or if you prefer, I’ll go,” you add as you look into her eyes. You noticed that she trusted you more than Finnick, so maybe she would listen to you. Finnick has dropped all his weapons to the ground, but you stop him and show him with a nod that you’ll get Peeta instead.

“Better not exert yourself. Not in your condition,” he says, reaches down and pats her abdomen where she is supposedly pregnant. You position yourself at the edge of the water, he follows you to be sure there is no danger surrounding you.

“Finnick, I trust you to cover me,” you say to him more seriously. You peck his lips in case you won’t come back, knowing all cameras were on you at this instant, and that every citizen would understand your romantic relationship with him. You didn’t care. As you both agreed, hiding was useless now. He looks at you with deep nervosity, but he nods, trusting you.

You disappear with a flawless dive. Gloss, Cashmere, Enobaria, and Brutus have gathered, their pack formed already, picking over the weapons. A quick survey of the rest of the arena shows that most of the tributes are still trapped on their plates. You swim swiftly towards Peeta. As he sees you approaching, he is on his guard, but you know and are sure that Katniss talked about you and Finnick during the week prior. He must have known that you weren’t entirely a threat.

“Come with me, Katniss is with Finnick at the Cornucopia !” you exclaim as you raise your head from the waves. He scans around the Arena, from what he could see. Not much.

“How can I trust you ?” he asks, the waves splashing his boots. After all, you still had your weapons on you, in case there was a threat in the water. You could kill him in an instant if you wanted. You show your golden bangle at your wrist.

“Haymitch was wearing it too. I’m your ally, as well as Finnick. If you don’t trust me, there are knives in my belt. You could grab one and stab me if I ended up attacking you,” you explain, looking into his blue eyes with all the seriousness they could behold. Peeta analyzes you, before deciding to trust you, and surely because he wanted to be by Katniss’s side as fast as possible. He goes in the water, you catch him.

“You’ll float,” you reassure him as you have one arm across his chest while the other propels the both of you through the water with easy strokes. Peeta doesn’t resist you. As you approach the sand and can spot Finnick and Katniss, something in the water switches. The waves are ten times stronger, and you struggle to support the both of you. You are sure that the gamemakers are behind this. You try to not panic, but Finnick screams your name.

“Help me fetch Peeta !” you yell back as the wind gets wilder. Without any hesitations, he dives into the water, leaving Katniss to cover the three of you. The waves are getting bigger, you barely notice when Finnick is grabbing Peeta to help you. But suddenly, the water moves as if you were in the middle of a storm when going fishing in District 4. But during those moments, you were on a boat, not floating in the middle of the sea.

A wave knocks Peeta against you, his elbow accidentally hurting your head in the process. You yelp, before the water swallows you while Finnick is struggling to hold the blond against him and to bring him towards the shore. The moment he notices you aren’t here anymore by his side, it’s too late.

You are drowning and the waves bring you to the opposite side of the Cornucopia. Struggling will just make your case worse, so you stop moving and let the water bring you back towards the island. You hold your breath as best as you can, but it’s hard to not lose yourself in panic. As you hope for a miracle to happen, everything fades in black while your body gets rocked from left to right. The only thing you can think about is your 70th games, telling yourself that it’s how all the other tributes died back then. Maybe it was your turn too.

Before losing consciousness, you swore you saw Finnick’s green eyes softly looking at yours. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

“Y/n, Y/n, can you hear me ?!” echoes a voice from afar. Seconds pass, blurry vision while you flutter your eyes open. The first thing you see is the bright sun up your head. You cough water, your head falling on the side right on the sand. Your body hurts. It’s itchy. Wait, the sand. You are on the beach, alive. Are you back in District 4 ?

“She’s waking up,” says another male voice. Finnick ? Is that him ? Were you at home, like any summer day in the company of your lover ? You smile softly to yourself.

“Y/n, it’s me,” repeats a feminine voice and soft hands are holding your head to help you cough the remaining water from your lungs. Short brown hair, the same outfit as you, and the golden bracelet on her wrist.

“Johanna ?” you ask confused. As you sit up, you notice Beete, and Wiress. 

“Look out, you still are a bit fragile. Give yourself some minutes before we can go,” says Beete as he looks a bit strained. It doesn’t take long to realize he had a hard time at the Cornucopia. He has a big cut on his flesh.

“What happened ?”

“We found you on…” starts Wiress before looking around and forgetting what she was about to say. “This part of the beach. Johanna helped us. We all are allies,” continues Beete, adjusting his glasses.

“I can’t believe I have to be the one to protect them until we find Katniss. But at least you’re here with me, Y/n. And you got some nice weapons as well… I guess we’ll survive more than one goddamn day in here,” Johanna says bitterly at the intention of the tributes of District 3, clearly displeased that for the sake of protecting the mockingjay and her alliance with Wiress and Beete, she had to protect them as well. 

“Fuck, we got separated. Finnick…” you whisper as you take your face in your hand. Anxiety. Now you are scared that until you find them back, he’ll get killed before you have the time to reach him. You are sweating, and with the moist and heavy air it’s not helping. You felt like you are suffocating. And you didn’t know if it was because of the weather, or because you got separated. You remember back the words that Mags told you before leaving, to stay together, because on the contrary, without him, the both of you were lost. You recall as well what Finnick told you at dawn, to make sure to not get separated.

In defeat, you realize that you failed. 

“For now, let’s survive. Ok ?” says Johanna as she helps you stand up. You dust off the remaining sand from your sticky clothes and stretch. Right, Finnick was with Katniss and Peeta. He’ll survive as well. He’s strong, very strong. He can easily handle himself.

“We need water before we die of dehydration," comments Beete as he looks around, touching the sea water with his hand and then tasting it at the tip of his finger. A grimace is written over his face at the salty drop. 

“And we have nothing to…” starts to say Wiress, approaching Beete and squatting down as well. “Filter it,” he continues. “So let’s go into the jungle to try to find some water. Surely the animals around here need to drink as much as we do. If we follow their lead, we’ll find how to hydrate,” he explains as you follow him towards the dense vegetation.

“A jungle ? What’s a jungle ?” asks Johanna while you take your spear that was on the sand, and make sure that all your weapons are still on you. Great, you lost a knife. Well, at least you had the remaining ones, it was better than nothing. You give one of your knives to your friend, trusting her.

“I think it’s a type of forest,” you answer, taking the lead as with your spear and long knife it was an advantage to cut through the patches of dense vegetation and pull them away from where you were walking.

“It is. It’s not supposed to exist in the wild of Panem, but they already used this type of forest in another Hunger Games some years ago,” explains Beete. The four of you continue to explore, while Johanna is clearly displeased to have to stick around Wiress and Beete just for Katniss. She thought that they were a liability. You couldn’t say that she was wrong, but their intellect was a great advantage to not dismiss.

“The Arena is in a perfect circle, with a wheel in the middle,” comments Beete as minutes tickle by. 

“It’s a dom,” adds Wiress as she looks fervently around her as if something out of the wild would jump and slice her throat in two. It was a possibility. She sticks close to you, as you were, with Johanna, the only ones that could fight and protect her. At the same time, you help Beete to walk when his cut hurts him too much. You had nothing on you to ease his pain or heal his wound. You sigh, already starting to feel drained by all this walking and yet not spotting any source of drinkable water. Your throat gets dry. You glance at Beete that observes the wildlife around you, but there wasn’t any clue about where to drink. 

You notice that at his hip, right on his belt, is attached a heavy metal cylinder. “Don’t ask why he has this weird metal thing instead of a weapon. When I asked, he started to explain it to me and I understood shit,” she whispers in your ear, rolling her eyes. You raise an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Knowing him, it’s surely useful. We’ll see,” you answer. Time passes, and still no water. You end up having to take Beete on your back because he couldn’t walk anymore with the pain of his wound. You hope he won’t die on you. Walking is twice a struggle now that you have to do it for two. But you continue, because if you don’t, you doubt Johanna would happily do it.

Beete talks about a big tree in the Arena. But being too exhausted, you barely listen to him. You all decide to take a break. The man detaches from his belt the metal cylinder, and with the help of Wiress, they start to tie a rope with vines they find around them in the vegetation. 

“What is it for ?” Johanna asks suspiciously.

“It’s for the tree,” vaguely answers Wiress. “Again with this tree,” sighs Johanna. You squat down next to them, taking some vines in your hands. You knew that Wiress and Beete had an important role for the rescue of Katniss Everdeen in the Arena by District 13. But you didn’t have much information. You supposed that the wire would be the key for it. You believed in them.

“Let me help, I’m good with handling ropes,” you offer as for now, you had nothing else to do. And you trusted what the two of them were preparing, so surely why not give them your help ? They thank you as you swiftly tie the vines together, ten times faster than the two of them combined. Bored, Johanna proposes that she’ll go hunt for some water. Yet, when she came back 20 minutes later, she didn’t bring anything to drink, but instead another tribute. Instantly, you grasp your spear, but recognize Blight. Johanna's male counterpart from District 7. He barely showed up for training. 

“I found him. He’s our ally,” she explains simply. Wiress and Beete recognize him. They nod in understanding. The man approaches and holds a dead animal, what seems like a… monkey, from what you could vaguely remember its name.

“I don’t come empty handed. Here is dinner,” he explains as he throws the carcass at your feet.

“I hoped for water, but hey, I won’t say no to some meat. So you are welcome with us, Blight,” you say in a smile and grab the dead animal. While you and Wiress are busy cutting the meat and taking off its skin, Beete asks Blight if he managed to see where the monkey could have gone to drink any water. Sadly, the answer is no.

Even if it can be dangerous, you decide to start a small fire to cook the meat. With you, Johanna and Blight, you were three capable tributes to fight in case other Victors came to attack you. After all, it was common sense that with the smoke of the fire, you could easily be spotted. It was a secret, but you wished that Finnick would notice it and come to find you. As you bite into the leg of the monkey, a parachute lands next to you with a fresh loaf of bread. You open it. The bread is green from seaweeds, you instantly recognize it. It’s from District 4. You smile and silently thank Mags for the sponsor, and for the precious information she sent. 

The rescue from District 13 was indicated by what they sent. The number of the District was the day, and the number of rolls, the hour. 24. On day four at midnight, they will rescue Katniss, and maybe you as well, if you survived until then.

You all happily have a fulfilling meal with the monkey’s meat and the loaf of bread, not mentioning anything about it as you were on screen 24/7.

The dread of the night is slowly arriving. You lick your fingers from the meat you just finished eating when the sky brightens and the seal of the Capitol appears as if floating in space. You swallow, scared to see the face of your lover appearing. What if he actually didn’t escape the Bloodbath ? And what if the plan failed, Katniss being killed ? Johanna caresses discreetly your back to support you, and you felt relieved at this moment to have a friend by your side.

You listen to the strains of the anthem. The man from District 5, the one you killed, is the first to appear. That means that all the tributes in 1 through 4 are alive—the four Careers, Beetee and Wiress, and, of course, you and Finnick. The man from District 5 is followed by the male morphling from 6, Cecelia and Woof from 8, both from 9, the woman from 10, and Seeder from 11. The Capitol seal is back with a final bit of music and then the sky goes dark except for the moon. Seeing the faces of the eight dead victors projected into the sky is harder than you thought. Even if you were greatly relieved that neither Finnick, nor Katniss and Peeta were dead, you still knew those people. Some of them were actually very nice to you. 

Suddenly, there is the tolling of a bell. Loud, it hurts your ears. You look around confused as you count twelve. 

“What the hell was that ?” comments Johanna, on guard. 

“It sounds like a …” starts the woman of District 3, but for the first time, Beete doesn’t finish Wiress’s sentence. Because he didn’t find what she meant, or what it actually could be. Silence, aside from the buzzing sound of the jungle all around you that seemed to never end. “Tick tock,” whispers Wiress before starting to sing some funny little song, about a mouse running up a clock. The following thirty minutes it’s her tick tocking and repeating again and all over again this song. Johanna is tempted to kill her, but thankfully, the woman ends up falling asleep from exhaustion. It’s finally silent.

Later that night, you take turns to sleep. When it’s your turn to stay awake and make sure that no dangers crawl towards you in the dead of the night, you are startled by the sound of the cannon. Who could have died ? You anxiously grab the ropes of vines and continue to tie them, hoping it will ease your nerves. Blight wakes up and tells you that you can go to sleep. You find it hard to close your eyes and not think about who could have been killed, dread eating you alive at the idea that it could be Finnick.

At dawn, everyone was awake. The moist air was heavy, and you struggled to think straight when you had no chance to drink anything. The dehydration started to take a tool on the five of you. You wanted to go back towards the beach, maybe you’ll find Katniss and the gang, or water. Or better, both. Because if you found Finnick, Katniss and Peeta, they maybe would have found a way to drink. 

Beete talked again with Wiress about the tree, while she kept saying “tick tock”. You all continue to walk, as you lead again the way, when suddenly Beete grabs your arm and yanks away. Startled, everyone looks at him surprised.

“What was that for ?” you exclaim. “If you step any closer in this direction, you’ll die,” he answers firmly. Confused, you look at him as if he said something crazy.

“What ?”

“Force field,” mentions Wiress, pointing at the supposed force field. The memory of the discussion you had with the two during the training comes back to mind. As you squint your eyes, you vaguely see it. Johanna curiously tries to understand as well.

“There is a force field, meaning we reached the end of the Arena. Do you remember the second Quarter Quell, with Haymitch Abernathy ? Tributes died because of it,” continues Beete. “Yes, I do,” you nod, recalling what you saw in the recaps of the Quarter Quell preceding yours. 

“Good, then let’s go somewhere else. If one of us accidentally touches it, it will be their end,” finishes Beete. “Tick tock,” says Wiress again while you all retrace your steps. “Yes, tick tock. Come on now,” sighs Johanna as she grabs her arm and leads her away.

Some minutes pass, before you suddenly feel something wet falling on the top of your head. One, two, four, ten drops are dropping from the sky. A flash of hope crosses everyone’s eyes at the realization.

“It’s raining ?!” exclaims Johanna, opening wider her eyes and sticking out her tongue to ease her burning throat. You all laugh with excitement, before you taste something hot and thick on your tastebuds. You soon realize that it’s pouring, and your vision is getting.. red ? Something was wrong, it wasn’t water, it was…

“Blood !” you scream. 

Blood obscures your eyes, you can’t see anymore. It was impossible to speak without getting a mouthful. In panic, you all start to stagger around, trying to find the exit of the forest. You use your spear like a cane to help you walk, but it gets harder as you slip on the ground and fall.

“Don’t panic, let’s go south !” you manage to yell before choking on the blood falling on your tongue. With shaky legs, you stand back up and can only guide yourself by the sounds surrounding you. Wiress and Beete have a hard time following, Johanna with all the strength she has, grabs the two. You blink, take Beete close to you and rummage through the Jungle. You can’t put him on your back, it was too dangerous. If you slipped, and the both of you felt, who knows what injury it could cause you or the man. 

“Where is Blight ?!” screams Johanna as she struggles to keep Wiress close to her without the both of them falling on the slippery rocks.

“Blight !” you yell, spitting the blood that accumulated in your mouth. A bit more and you'd be unable to breathe if it gets in your lungs. “North !” answers Wiress, before repeating “Tick Tock” every time she spits the blood from her lungs. “He went North !” finishes Beete in a struggling breath. “I’ll get him,” you exclaim, deciding that having him as an ally was what you needed until joining Katniss, Peeta and Finnick. After all, he managed to climb a tree and kill a monkey, thanks to him you had a fulfilling dinner last night. He was nice too, you would feel guilty to leave him to his death. The Games only started, you’ll think later about how you’ll kill him when your alliance would be broken. For now, you had to go get him.

You leave Beete to Johanna, letting her bring them towards the end of the forest and surely to the beach, the closest safety the five of you had. You keep screaming Blight’s name every chance you got, not caring that other tributes would possibly hear you. You help yourself with your spear, stumble against trees, vines, rocks, but manage to hear him scream your name in return, around some meters away.

Suddenly, you realise where he is headed. You intend to run faster to stop him, choking on the thick blood that was filling your mouth.

“Don’t go Nor-” you hopefully try to say in a stutter, before there is an explosion and you are projected meters away. Your ears are ringing, and the only sound you can vaguely hear is the cannon. You try to catch back your breath as your back is killing, and your hand accidentally felt on your spear, right on the blade. Thankfully it’s not too deep and in a groan you rip it off your flesh. 

Blight died because of the force field. You try to not hyperventilate, letting yourself some seconds of realization of what just happened. You can’t mourn him, or else the cannon will resonate for you too if you don’t get out of the jungle, quick.

You lift yourself on your knees, crawl in the mud, trying to find the metallic stick of your spear instead of the sharp blade. You didn’t want to hurt yourself twice. Bingo, your hand falls on something fresh and hard. You lift it from the ground to use the weapon again as a cane.

“I’m alive !” you scream in hope that Johanna, Beete or Wiress would hear you and understand that the cannon wasn’t for you, but that Blight died instead. Surely the tributes of District 3 will understand that it would be because of the force field. 

You manage to see a ray of sunshine. The beach, it’s close. You notice voices, Johanna exclaiming in anger, and the “Tick Tock” of Wiress. They managed to get out of the forest. You struggle, pant, the aftermath of the force field explosion still taking a tool on your body. You don’t think you were that injured. At least, no bones were broken. Some seconds later, you manage to stumble on the beach. You all were in bad shape. Johanna stops to drag Beete that collapses on the sand, while Wiress is wandering in loopy circles. You try to catch your breath, when suddenly, you hear a familiar voice.

“Y/n !” screams Finnick, his face lighting up at the mere sight of seeing you alive, before running at full speed towards you. 

“Finnick !” you yell as well, dashing towards him. In a second, his arms are around you and he strongly hugs you tight. You fumble on the sand but he keeps you straight and prevents you from falling. Without caring for the blood, he kisses your lips. All he wanted was to have you near. Being separated from him was like a nightmare, having you back was like a blessing.

“You’re alive,” the both of you say at the same time, clearly reassured. You chuckle nervously, while he greets Johanna too, happy to see his friend in one piece. You detach yourself from him, but he keeps his hand around you to support you, and too because after losing you once, he refused to let you go for a second.

Peeta and Katniss tromp down the beach where the five of you are. They look confused to what happened to your team, with the state that Wiress and Beete are, one of them being unconscious and the other losing her mind. You check for Beete’s pulse, his heart is still beating. Relieved, Finnick grabs your face and makes you look at him.

“What is that red thing ?” he asks. You take the opportunity to analyze his face as well. You notice that he mostly went through hell too during these 24 hours away from each other.

“Blood,” you answer as you wipe your eyes. At the same time, Katniss and Peeta reach you, and Johanna starts to explain what happened while gesturing to the jungle and talking very fast.

“We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it,” she starts to say. “Blight got lost, I went to search for him, that’s when he hit the force field,” you continue. Finnick nods, and gives a look to the brunette.

“I’m sorry, Johanna,” says Finnick, knowing that Blight wasn’t a stranger to her.

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t much, but he was from home,” she says. “And he left us alone with these two.” She nudges Beetee, who’s barely conscious, with her shoe. “He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia. And her—” They all look over at Wiress, who’s circling around, coated in dried blood, and murmuring, “Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”

“Yeah, we know. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock,” says Johanna. “She keeps repeating these words since yesterday, it was after there was this weird lightning in the middle of the night,” you explain. 

This seems to draw Wiress in Johanna’s direction and she careens into her, who harshly shoves her to the beach. “Just stay down, will you?”

“Lay off her,” Katniss snaps. Johanna narrows her brown eyes at her in hatred. “Lay off her ?” she hisses. She steps forward before Katniss can react and slaps her cheek in an exaggerated thud. You open wide your eyes, detach yourself from Finnick and instantly grab your friend’s hand to bring her meters back from Katniss that is still seeing stars.

“Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you ? You—” Finnick tosses her writhing body over his shoulder and carries her out into the water. You follow them as he repeatedly dunks her while she screams a lot of really insulting things at Katniss. You can’t help but want to laugh at this comic situation, and take the opportunity to go in the waves while Finnick is telling her to calm down. When she stops protesting, he lets her go and instead turns to you.

“Let’s get you clean, honey,” he says as he winks at you with his usual charming smile, something you missed. Johanna is still wading around to rinse the blood from her skin. Finnick’s hands grab your waist and he brings you into deeper water.

“What happened while I was away ?” you ask as you dip your head in the sea and raise back your face, Finnick whipping your bloody forehead and cheeks.

“Poisonous fog, crazy monkeys… Oh, and Peeta died because of the force field. I brought him back to life,” he says casually, shrugging it off as he puts water on the top of your head and washes away the red liquid from your hair. “What a normal day in the Arena,” he continues sarcastically. You have a nervous laugh.

“Wow, ok. That’s definitely something… How did you bring him back from the dead ?” you question curiously.

“Mouth to mouth. I’m sure Katniss thought I was kissing him. She’s quite naive, but she can be funny,” he explains before giving you a smile. You nod, scrubbing your legs. “Yeah, I like her,” you add. “I don’t,” intervenes Johanna, who is still cleaning her suit. Finnick snickers at the hatred comment of the girl. 

“I guess you are the one that found y/n back after the bloodbath. What happened ?” he asks, as he intertwines his fingers with yours and lands his green eyes on your face with anxiety. “I thought you died in front of my eyes, even if the cannon didn’t resonate,” he says in a more intimate voice.

“I don’t know, I was drowning and then I woke up on the beach. That’s when I met Johanna, Wiress and Beete. Blight came after,” you start to explain before summarizing everything that happened since you lost Peeta in the waves.

Once Johanna and you are cleaned, Finnick guides you both to the little beach camp they built, while holding your hand and not letting it go. Wiress looks like she got cleaned, wading in the shallow water with the help of Katniss. Beete is laying into the shade at the edge of the jungle. There is a thick pad out of moss tied around his cut thanks to vines rolling around his body. Katniss mostly has made that.

“You said months ago that you would gladly let me treat your wounds in the Arena, but I think Katniss would do a better job than me,” you comment.

“I still want you to be the one to treat me, honey. Wouldn’t want someone else to touch my naked body,” he teases as he tugs on your hand and kisses your cheek.

“I hope you guys found a way to drink water,” asks Johanna as she rushes to the beach camp and sits on the sand. “Actually, we did,” answers Finnick proudly.

Peeta stands up and guides the two of you towards the collected water. You rush at his side and with the girl, you both are gulping down without breathing and then stuff your mouth with shellfish that Finnick captured. Everybody offers to guard while the others rest, but in the end, it’s Johanna and Katniss who stay up. Katniss because she’s really rested, Johanna because she simply refuses to lie down. The two of them sit in silence on the beach until the rest of you have gone to sleep. Finnick supports your head on his shoulder, and even if the air was heavy and moist, you don’t mind gluing yourself to him. His eyes search yours, softly caressing your cheek.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers in the quietness of the moment, fingers slightly tightening on your flesh because of the inner turmoil he is experiencing. Your shoulders sag.

“I know. I thought I did too. I failed. We promised to not get separated. Yet, we did,” you whisper in defeat, hugging him closer as if you were about to merge your bodies together in one single entity.

“I failed too. The only thing that kept me sane was the fact that your face didn’t appear in the sky yesterday night. I would have lost it if you did,” he murmurs in a shaky breath against your neck, because he only wanted you to be the one to hear these words, his vulnerability, his weakness. 

“I’m here, you’re here. We still can fight,” you whisper back, and kiss his lips. It’s soft, his mouth lingers on yours greedily before allowing you to breathe.

“Let’s sleep a bit, yeah ?” Finnick says. You nod, and it’s hand in hand that the two of you finally manage to fully rest after 24 hours of pure chaos.

The sun rises in the sky until it’s directly over your head, reaching noon. You don’t get woken up by the dazzling sun, but by a panicked Katniss Everdeen. 

“Get up,” she orders, shaking Peeta then you, Finnick and Johanna awake. “Get up—we have to move.” You groan as you rub your eyes, Finnick helping you stand up while Johana glares at the brunette before standing as well. You realize she was sleeping next to you.

“The arena is a clock,” suddenly says Katniss. She doesn’t waste anymore time and starts to explain herself. Each hour begins a new horror, a new Gamemaker weapon, and ends the previous. Lightning, blood rain, fog, monkeys—those are the first four hours on the clock. And at ten, the wave. She doesn’t know what happens in the other seven, but now everyone knows Wiress is right with her tick tocking. Johanna is not convinced as she’s naturally opposed to liking anything Katniss would suggest, yet she agrees it’s better to be safe than sorry.

You all start to gather your possessions and help Beete to get back in his suit, meanwhile Katniss wakes up Wiress that screams “tick tock !” “Yes, tick, tock, the arena’s a clock. It’s a clock, Wiress, you were right,” answers Katniss. “You were right.” Relief floods her face.

“Midnight.” “It starts at midnight,” she confirms. 

“Its the tolling of the bells,” you comment, she nods and Finnick looks at you intrigued.

“One-thirty,” Wiress says. “Exactly. One-thirty. And at two, a terrible poisonous fog begins there,” continues Katniss, pointing at the nearby jungle. You look at it and imagine what Finnick went through. “So we have to move somewhere safe now.” Wiress smiles and stands up obediently. 

“Want some water ?” you ask and hand her the woven bowl as she gulps down about a quart. Finnick gives her the last bit of bread and she gnaws on it. With the inability to communicate overcome, she’s functioning again.

Beetee’s still pretty out of it, but when Peeta tries to lift him, he objects. “Wire,” he says. “She’s right here,” Peeta tells him. “Wiress is fine. She’s coming, too.” But still Beetee struggles. “Wire,” he insists.

“Oh, I know what he wants,” says Johanna impatiently. She crosses the beach, you pick up the cylinder that he had previously at his belt and pass it to Johanna. 

“This worthless thing. It’s some kind of wire or something. That’s how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don’t know what kind of weapon it’s supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrote or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garroting somebody ?” she explains, and you recall how he struggled to walk because of his wound yesterday, and how you had to help him out at times. Now you know how he got it.

“He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap,” says Peeta. “It’s the best weapon he could have.” Katniss looks suspiciously at Johanna. “Seems like you’d have figured that out,” Katniss says. “Since you nicknamed him Volts and all.” 

Johanna’s eyes narrow at her dangerously. “Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn’t it ?” she answers aggressively. “I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive.” 

Katniss’s fingers tighten on the knife handle at her belt. Finnick sensing incoming danger puts you slightly behind him in case it goes south. 

“Go ahead. Try it. I don’t care if you are knocked up, I’ll rip your throat out,” says Johanna.

“Everyone calm down, we are allies, not enemies,” you say as you glare at Johanna for her to calm down.  

“Maybe we all had better be careful where we step,” says Finnick, shooting Katniss a look. He takes the coil and sets it on Beetee’s chest. “There’s your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it.” He goes back to you and takes your hand again in yours, surely to reassure himself that you were there, and that if something happened, this time he won’t get separated from you. With the tension rising, he could never be too cautious. 

Peeta picks up the now-unresisting Beetee. “Where to ?” he asks him “I’d like to go to the Cornucopia and watch. Just to make sure we’re right about the clock,” says Finnick. 

You all walk down the nearest sand strip, approaching the Cornucopia with carefulness, just in case the Careers are concealed there. Even though there was no sign of life coming from them for hours now. The area is empty, nobody else about your gang on the Cornucopia. When Peeta lays Beetee in the bit of shade the Cornucopia provides, he calls out to Wiress. She crouches beside him and he puts the coil of wire in her hands. “Clean it, will you ?” he asks. Wiress nods and scampers over to the water’s edge, where she dunks the coil in the water. She starts quietly singing the song she was singing for hours yesterday. You groan, pissed to have to hear it again. 

“Oh, not the song again,” says Johanna, rolling her eyes. “That went on for hours after she started tick-tocking,” you comment as well.

Suddenly Wiress stands up very straight and points to the jungle. “Two,” she exclaims.

Yards away, you notice the wall of fog has just begun to seep out onto the beach. “So that’s what you got yourself into ?” you ask Finnick. “It’s worse than what it looks like,” he says distantly, but still gives you what seems like a smile.

“Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.” says Katniss. “Like clockwork,” answers Peeta. Wiress smiles and goes back to singing and dunking her coil. 

“She’s intuitive,” a voice suddenly says, talking about Wiress. Surprised, you all turn to look at Beetee, who seems to be coming back to life. 

“She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines,” he explains, referring to Katniss and Peeta, about District 12. “What’s that ?” Finnick asks her. “An object ? A device ?” you question too, as confused as Finnick. You have never heard that word before. “It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air,” Katniss answers. 

“What’s it do, die ?” asks Johanna. “It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you,” she answers more coldly, and you recognize that type of look in her eyes. You were sure she lost someone dear in a coal mine. So you don’t ask more questions. 

Johanna goes back to take supplies and comes up with a pair of lethal-looking axes, clearly happy to have these familiar weapons with her. She tries one and throws it with such force it sticks in the sunsoftened gold of the Cornucopia.

 Meanwhile, you go around with Finnick to search for more weapons, spears, tridents and knives, or maybe just to talk. He playfully sparred with you with the trident he got during the bloodbath, while you counter attacked with your spear. He has a big grin on his face, amused, because he had little moments of simple joy since the games started. 

“Don’t poke my ass !” you whine, and he chases you while the others are busy doing their own things. 

Katniss messing with her weapons, and Petta drawing something with the tip of his knife on a large, smooth leaf he brought from the jungle. After some minutes, the three of you join Peeta and Katniss to see what they are doing. Peeta was creating a map of the Arena. In the center is the Cornucopia on its circle of sand with the twelve strips branching out from it. It looks like a pie sliced into twelve equal wedges. There’s another circle representing the waterline and a slightly larger one indicating the edge of the jungle. He draws the numbers one through twelve around the clock face. Depending on the corresponding wedge, there is lightning, blood, fog, the wave and monkeys. 

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others ?” asks Katniss to you, Johanna and Beete.

“Only tons of thick and warm blood,” you answer in disgust.  

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those,” says Peeta, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. Then he sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.” You all nod in agreement, but then you realize something strange, Katniss as well. The both of you look at each other in understanding before turning around to find Wiress. The canary has stopped singing.

Your enemies were back.

Gloss, dripping wet, just slit Wiress’s throat open, letting her slide to the ground. Instantly, Katniss loads an arrow and shoots it on his temple and you lunge your spear right on his heart. Johanna has buried an ax blade in Cashmere’s chest. 

Finnick knocks away a spear Brutus throws at Peeta and takes Enobaria’s knife in his thigh. You tried to stop the blade from sinking into his flesh, but it only resulted in your hand getting wounded, dripping in blood.

“Don’t mind me, y/n !” he screams to you, and you have a second of hesitation before chasing after Brutus and Enobaria who are springing down a sand strip toward the jungle. 

At the same time, you hear three cannons, confirming the death of Wiress, Gloss and Cashmere. But you have no time to think that violently, the ground jerks beneath your feet and you are flung on the strip of sand. You scream as the circle of land where the Cornucopia is, starts to spin incredibly fast to the point you feel like throwing up and lose track of where the jungle is, or even where you are.

You are slipping towards the water, groaning as your nails dig harder in an attempt to keep you grounded. But each second passing is a new pull towards your death. You try to hold yourself, but you know that sooner or later you’ll fall.

“Finnick !” you scream in despair, the tip of your fingers losing their grip on the sand because of the centrifugal force pulling you downwards in the water. Suddenly, your hand lets go of the sand stript. Your stomach sinks and you open your eyes wider. You’re going to die.

Before you can close your eyes, strong fingers grab your wrist, and through the drops of water, sand and wind, you manage to see Finnick gripping himself to the ground while holding your arm as strongly as possible.

“Don’t let go of me !” he yells, breathing loudly through the force of the spinning movement. You struggle to not fall, but your will to live and to stay by Finnick’s side is getting the better of you.

Suddenly, it slams to a stop. Finnick brings you back up and you directly stumble in his arms. Katniss, Johanna, and Peeta have hung on. The three dead bodies have been tossed out into the seawater. You are panting, coughing the sand that got inside your mouth and even taking some water to gargle so you could clean your tongue and throat.

“Where’s Volts ?” says Johanna. You stand up with Finnick’s help. One wobbly circle of the Cornucopia confirms he’s gone. Finnick spots him about twenty yards out in the water, barely keeping afloat, and swims out to haul him in.

“The wire !” you exclaim as you notice that Beete doesn’t have it attached to his belt anymore. Katniss spots it still clutched in Wiress’s hands, far out in the water.

“Cover me,” she says to the others. She tosses aside her weapons and races down the strip closest to her body. She dives into the water and starts for her. The hovercraft appeared over you, the claw starting to descend to take Wiress away. 

Katniss manages to reach Wiress’s body that was floating in her own blood. She has to wrench the coil of wire from Wiress’s fingers. She closes her eyelids, and swims away. By the time she swings the coil up onto the sand and pulls herself from the water, her body’s gone. 

Meanwhile, you and Finnick are busy with Beete. He managed to get out as much water as he could from his lungs, as he sits up and snorts out the remainings. Katniss arrives and places the reel of wire on his lap. Beete unravels a piece of the wire and runs it through his fingers. It’s long, and you remember how you and Wiress helped him with the vines yesterday. Now she’s gone. You silently mourn her.

Katniss crosses to Peeta and wraps her arms around him. You look at Finnick and he nods in silence, looking at your bloody hand. He gently grabs it and examines it. With the adrenaline, you didn’t realise how hurt you were.

“Your leg…” you whisper as you look at the blood coming out of his thigh. “I’m fine, I’ve had worse. And I know you’ll treat me,” he murmurs in your ear. You nudge him gently, even though you agreed with his last sentence. Though, you were worried.

“Let’s get off this stinking island,” Johanna says finally. 

Finnick strips off his undershirt. You grab it and carefully tie it around the wound Enobaria’s knife made in his thigh. Thankfully, as you analyze it, you realise it’s not deep. Beetee thinks he can walk now, if you go slowly, so Katniss helps him up. You felt relieved that you didn’t have to get him on your back this time.

You all decide to head to the beach for twelve o’clock. But you and Finnick, Johanna, and Peeta, head off in different directions.

“Twelve o’clock, right ?” says Peeta. “The tail points at twelve.” 

“Before they spun us,” says Finnick. “We were judging by the sun,” you agreed. “The sun only tells you it’s going on four,” Katniss says. 

“I think Katniss’s point is, knowing the time doesn’t mean you necessarily know where four is on the clock. You might have a general idea of the direction. Unless you consider that they may have shifted the outer ring of the jungle as well,” says Beetee. She nods, even though she looks like what Beete said wasn’t what she entirely meant. “Yes, so any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock,” Katniss continues. 

You all circle around the Cornucopia, scrutinizing the jungle. Johanna thinks to follow Enobaria’s and Brutus’s tracks, but they have been blown or washed away. There’s no way to tell where anything is. “I should have never mentioned the clock,” says Katniss bitterly. “Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“Only temporarily,” says Beetee. “At ten, we’ll see the wave again and be back on track.” 

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena,” says Peeta. “It doesn’t matter,” says Johanna impatiently. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless.” 

“Let’s just take a random path, or else we’ll die before knowing,” you say annoyed. They end up agreeing, having no idea what number you’re all headed for. You arrive at the jungle, cautious of what was lurking inside. “Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there,” says Peeta. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”

“No, it’s our turn,” says Finnick as you follow him. “I’ll at least watch your back, you’re both injured,” Peeta says. 

“Katniss can do that,” says Johanna. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She yanks a large leaf off a tree and hands it to him.

Katniss ends up following the both of you with Finnick about fifteen yards into the jungle, where you find a good tree and he starts stabbing to make a hole with his knife.

“So that’s how you get your water ? Amazing,” you look intrigued. “Yep, and then we use a spile to get the water from the tree. We got it from a sponsor. Useful, right ? It must have cost them a lot,” he hums as he explains it to you.

“Let me use the knife, I want to make the hole,” you command as you reach for the weapon in his hand. He steps back and raises the blade up your head so you can’t grab it. You frown. “No way. Your hand is like minced meat. You’ll hurt yourself, honey,” he refuses. You roll your eyes, but he was right.

“Katniss, got that spile ?” Finnick asks, snapping her back to reality. She cuts the vine that ties the spile to her belt and holds the metal tube out to him. 

At the same moment, there is a scream. Loud, terrifying, full of fear and despair. It makes you shiver head to toe. Startled, you look at Katniss dropping the spile and running widely in the direction of the voices through vines and branches. Finnick flares something wrong.

“Stay here, I’ll go get her !” orders you the blond as he grabs your shoulders.

“No, wait-” you start to say but he kisses your forehead one last time before dashing towards where the brunette left in the middle of the wild vegetation. You are left alone, confused and not understanding what just happened.

From far away, you manage to hear something. You soon realise that Katniss is screaming the name “Prim”, followed by the gut wrenching voice of a little girl.

“Finnick, it’s a trap !” you yell, but he is already too far from your reach. You intend to follow after him, but suddenly there is a piercing scream resonating all around you. Color vanishes from your face and you step back in horror, before rushing towards the voice.

“Mags !” you exclaim. 

chapter 4

Tag list : @winterbearwonderland

[maeedrg]

UNTILL PANEM IS FREE

chapter 2

75th Hunger Games Finnick Odair x reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

ch 1 , currently reading chap 2, ch3, ch4

summary : you and Finnick are going to the Capitol for the Opening Ceremony of the Quarter Quell. You have one week to start your plan before the Hunger Games begin, and that involves making the Mockingjay your ally. Fire was catching.

words count : 10.k

warnings : flirting, angst, tension, mentions of death, no more warnings for this chapter.

———————————————————————————

It’s hot, the weather heavy and moist. You’re sweating, the sun glistening on your skin. If you could, you would have thrown up your breakfast. Thankfully, you didn’t have one this morning. You couldn’t proceed to eat anything. Only being able to swallow a glass of water. Finnick is standing some meters away from you. Mags, on the other side, discreetly places her hand on the small of your back.

It’s hot. It’s too hot.

Today, you woke up with a new goal in mind. Finnick as well. The two of you couldn’t stop, you went in too deep to back down now. If you did, you’ll regret it forever. It was the only way. All eyes are on you. Pity, sadness, others are proud, fierce. Not everyone felt guilty. Not everyone was ashamed of what was about to happen.

“Mags Flanagan !” Silence. You confidently step up.

“I volunteer as tribute !” you exclaim instantly after, no hesitation. Gasps are heard. Whispers as well. Some say that the crazy Victor of district 4 was brave, or really went completely mad. 

Mags squeezes your hand, you squeeze it back with fear, but confidence too. You give one glance to Finnick, he keeps his face neutral, stoic, unreadable. He couldn’t let anyone read his thoughts. It was broadcast everywhere, one wrong step and it was done. Yet, one second was all you needed to have a glimpse of his eyes and all the emotions hidden behind his sea of green.

Finnick was secretly beyond devastated. Seeing the woman that was like his mother get reaped, and then the woman he was in love with volunteering, felt like losing you both at the same time. Even if it was part of the plan, that no matter what the two of you would go to the Arena for this suicide quest, it still hurts. It did because even for a second, Finnick wished he could escape from this, escaping with you and never having to step a foot back in this godforsaken place. His heart was bleeding, but he had to swallow back any tears because soon it would be his turn. 

Meanwhile, you take a deep breath. One step forward. Because you can’t step back anymore. People applauded.

The reaping continues. The hand slides inside the boy’s reaping ball for some time before snagging a tiny piece of paper folded in three. You knew that no matter what, Finnick would be at your side. If his name wasn’t on the paper, he would directly volunteer, just like you. And nobody would blink twice, because every Victor here was a career. Such a reaction wasn't unusual.

The paper gets open, and the following voice is loud and clear : 

“Finnick Odair !”

You feel relief. He is by your side. Everything goes fast after that. You are immediately marched into the Justice Building. The Head Peacekeeper says there is a “New procedure”. No goodbyes, no cries, no time to think. You are rushed with Finnick and your mentors, -one of them thankfully being Mags-, out the back door, then to the car and finally to the train. Nobody was allowed to say goodbye or send you on your way. It’s violent, fast. Soon, the wheels turn, and the train dashes towards the Capitol. You see a sign of the Mockingjay on a wall. Your reminder that you were part of the rebels now. The plan was on. 

– Happy 75th hunger games ! And may the odds be in your favor ! exclaims Finnick as he grabs one of the small candies from the buffet and throws it into his mouth.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

“Johanna got reaped, obviously,” announces the blond after you both ate the usual savory dinner the train had to offer. You already knew, and her too, as she was the only living female Victor from 7. She was both of your friends. Johanna already lost everything. Sending her back to the games was the final blow to her life. You can’t help but imagine how lonely and devastated she felt when the Quarter Quell was announced. Your heart clenches.

“Knowing her, she has nothing to lose for becoming a…” you start to say in a whisper, but in case you were on speaker, scared Snow was listening to you thanks to devices in the walls of the train, you don’t say the word “rebel”. Finnick mindlessly caresses the hair at the top of your head. 

“Hmmm, but we’ll have to see. I don’t expect her to be very enthusiastic at the idea of protecting The Mocking Jay,” he murmurs gently in your ear, in a way that only you could hear what he had to say, in case someone else was listening. A shiver runs down your back. You think, and shift on his torso as you gently brush your fingers against his golden skin. 

“You’re right,” you answer shortly after. Finnick stares at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thoughts. How couldn’t he be ? There was everything to think about. Maybe too much.

“Let’s sleep honey, tomorrow we have a big day,” he adds, kissing your forehead and bringing you intimately closer. Wanting you as close as possible to his beating heart. You snuggle his side, sharing his warmth. Before dazing off to sleep, you admire one last time his tanned skin that he got from spending your last days together on the boat and at the beach. 

Indeed, Finnick mostly had spent a big part of his life on the family boat before his reaping. For fishing, and other duties that his parents had to carry on. He still continued after his games, but significantly less. Because now that he was a Victor, he didn’t need to work anymore as everyone expected. That’s how things went when you won the Hunger Games. You abandon your old life, to live in luxury. The Capitol citizens all looked forward to the Victors to start to have a hobby, as nothing else was going on in their everyday life. Yet, he was a man of the sea, you were too. And dragging him away for too long from the water and from what he had in the past, was like putting a bird in a golden cage. 

In the middle of the night, trying to fall asleep, you decide to think about memories that made you smile. You recall last week, eating fresh fishes, laughing, and jumping in the salty water. Finnick got sunburned, and Mags had to apply some ointment she bought from the market at the east of the district. To tease him, you slammed your hand against his burned skin. He yelled and directly went after you. At the end of your game of cat and mouse, chasing non stop in between earth and sea, you finished on the sand, laughing as if nothing else mattered. You ended up sleeping like a baby, rocked by sweet dreams and cuddles in Finnick’s comforting arms. 

When you woke up, you went back to reality. It was time for the preparation of the opening ceremonies. Being back to the Capitol wasn’t as pleasant as when doing your annual tour, or when getting invited to boring parties. Not like it actually was pleasant. 

You get dressed in a different room than Finnick’s. They wax every little centimeter of your body, leaving you like a butt naked baby that just arrived on this damned Earth. Your nails, your skin, your hair, it all takes long drowsy hours. Clothes, makeup, your personal stylist starts to talk without waiting or paying attention to what you had to say, and was clearly happy to have you back in here. You glared at him, yet he didn’t feel disturbed by your deathly stare. This man didn't have any ounce of shame in his body, it was all just a game for him. Spending years by his side seemingly didn’t soften his heart. Styling you to send you back to death and your grave did not phase him in the slightest. On the contrary, it was exciting, as per say. 

When you step out and meet Finnick again, you look at him. To say the least, he was stunning. Yet you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the malicious choice of clothes his stylist had him wearing. 

He’s draped in a golden net that’s strategically knotted at his groin so that he can’t technically be called naked. His skin is glistening, like the sun on a summer day. On the contrary, still being seen as the mad girl of District 4, your outfit had similarities but with way more tissue. You weren’t an object of desire. Compared to him, the more of Finnick the audience sees, the better. For you, the more, the worse. 

“Honey. Let’s do as we said yesterday night, alright ?” Finnick says in your ear, his sultry voice caressing your skin. You nod, giving him a look of understanding. You look around, making sure nobody is looking, and then you swiftly give him a peck on the cheek. Something short, but enough to prove your affection to him. He smiles, his lips stretching as he winks at you and you part ways.

Everyone went to head down to the ground floor of the Remake Center. This gigantic place is constituted for the gathering of the tributes and their chariots, all organized in the order of each district. Horses are waiting. The opening ceremony is soon. Victors, both this year’s tributes and their mentors, are standing around in small groups, talking. You spot Johanna, and when she sees you she directly drops her aggressive stance at her mentor before smiling at you. The woman was filled with joy to see someone close to her, and you directly hugged her in a relieved manner, which didn't make the peacekeepers that lurked around very happy to see tributes being friendly. Something that never happened before.

“Long time no see !” you exclaim, even if it was bitter. Because this situation was nothing but like the last time you saw her. 

“I never thought we would meet like this again, but here we are. These bastards really treat us like pieces of sh-,” Johanna starts to say before you cover her mouth, preventing her from finishing her sentence, as you notice how a peacekeeper is listening to your conversation. 

“I get it. Not to add, they dressed you like a fool. What is this ? Are you supposed to be a tree ?” you continue as you look at your friend up and down. Her clothes were ridiculous, the makeup made in an extravagant way, exactly how the Capitol loved it. 

“Every year it’s the same,” she groans. You emphasize her feelings by putting your hand on her shoulder, and then discreetly get closer to her. Your head is now brushing against hers, in a way that you can whisper without anyone noticing. 

“Did you meet Plutarch ?”

“The new Head Gamemaker that has a punchable face ? Yeah,” she answers as she gives you a look, one that you directly understand. You nod.

“I see. We’ll talk more about this at the training center,” you propose, before stepping away to give her some space and not appear suspicious. You take a deep breath while she approves, and she shows something with her chin.

“Look at your pretty boy and Katniss, the girl on fire,” she mocks, a small grin of irony on her golden tinted lips. You look at the direction she indicates. Finnick approached the girl wearing a different outfit than last year. Something fierce, black, dark, but dazzling like a fire. She was mindlessly caressing the black horse of her chariot, clearly feeling out of place. He pops a sugar cube in his mouth and leans against the animal.

“Hello, Katniss,” he says, as if they’ve known each other for years, when in fact  they’ve never met.

“Hello, Finnick,” the girl answers, just as casually, although she clearly was feeling uncomfortable at his closeness, especially since he’s got so much bare skin exposed. You narrow your eyes, still feeling angry at the choice of clothes of his stylist. Even before his death, they still treated him like an object. An object of lust.

“Want a sugar cube ?” he says, offering his hand, which is piled high. “They’re supposed to be for the horses, but who cares ? They’ve got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I…well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it quick.”

“No, thanks,” she says, refusing the sugar of your lover. You can’t help but smile a bit while looking at the interaction. Katniss was a bit cuter than you thought. She was just a teenage girl after all, only being 17. “I’d love to borrow your outfit sometime, though,” she adds. “You’re absolutely terrifying me in that getup. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses ?” he asks. He wets his lips just ever so slightly with his tongue.

“I outgrew them,” she says. Finnick takes the collar of her outfit and runs it between his fingers. Johanna rolls her eyes at that, and nudges you. But you just chuckle slightly, not phased at his antics. You knew it was all just an act, simply to test the girl. 

“It’s too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted.” 

“I don’t like jewels, and I have more money than I need. What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Finnick ?” answers Katniss. You see something flashes in his eyes, something only you could notice. 

“Oh, I haven’t dealt in anything as common as money for years,” says Finnick. Your stomach twists. You suddenly feel like you don’t want to eavesdrop on their conversation anymore. 

“Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company ?” she asks unaware.

“With secrets,” he says softly. He tips his head in so his lips are almost in contact with hers. You turn around, and Johanna still glances at them, more precisely at Katniss. You look some meters away, Peeta, the boy, approaches. You decide it’s time to put an end to their conversation and walk this time towards them. Finnick notices you. 

“What about you, girl on fire ? Do you have any secrets worth my time ?” continues Finnick. Surprisingly, Katniss blushes but directly acts unfazed. 

“No, I’m an open book,” she whispers back, “everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself,” she finishes. He smiles. At the same moment you arrive.

“Unfortunately, I think that’s true,” you add, standing next to your lover as you look at her up close. Her makeup made her have this intimidating look, but really, you only could see a girl behind all these artificials products. You felt like you saw yourself years back in the past, as well as every other little girl tribute forced into the games. 

Finnick’s eyes flicker off to the side. Not caring that people were looking, he wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer. 

“Peeta is coming. Sorry you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you,” he finishes the conversation as well. He tosses another sugar cube in his mouth and saunters off. “See you later, girl on fire,” you say before the two of you walk away. 

“Want sugar, honey ?” he smirks. You open your mouth, his fingers brush your lips and you take the treat in between your teeth. Crack ! you bite into it. 

“I see you got your fun. Did you have what you wanted ?” you muse while the two of you reach your chariot. “Yep. She’s as clueless as a child,” he comments as he smiles, and you look at him finishing the last cub of sugar instead of giving it to the horses. 

Soon after, the opening ceremony starts. The voice of the crowd rises into one universal scream as you roll into the fading evening light. There is a huge scene along the route, then another one, and another one. All of them show every chariot passing by. You can’t help but notice how everyone is focused on Katniss and Peeta. No smiles on their faces, no glances, just pure seriousness.

Standing next to Finnick, it feels weird. You get flashbacks of five years ago, being next to the other tribute. The boy that strangled you and tied you to a tree. Now, your mentor was at your side. You wonder what Finnick was thinking about. Was he like you, reminiscing about the past ? The feeling of the fourteen years old boy facing all the applause of the Capitol citizens for the first time ?

This moment doesn’t feel real. You become oblivious to your surroundings, that next thing you know your chariot is already curving around the loop of the City Circle. When President Snow begins to speak from his balcony, nobody listens to him. You can’t either. Everybody is focused on the tributes of District 12.

He welcomes everyone to the Quell, the anthem plays. Finnick squeezes your hand. You start your final trip around the circle and finally the doors of the Training Center close behind the last chariot and you can finally relax. Finnick nudges you slightly and brings his lips close to your ear so you could listen to what he had to say.

“Looks like Haymitch is on the plan too,” he whispers with a grin as you look at the alcoholic mentor chatting with other mentors, more exactly the one of Johanna. Haymitch smiles, pleased with himself, and goes to chat with another mentor accompanied by a chatty woman with extravagant clothes. Effie Trinket.

“Let’s hope it works,” you whisper back to the blond. He answers it by a gentle tap on your shoulder before turning around to smile at the incomers. 

Mags, followed by Johanna as well, come to join the both of you. You directly let go of the tension and start to chat about what happened earlier on the chariot, and the weird atmosphere there was with the girl on fire and President Snow. Other tributes do the same, even laughing together under the watchful eye of the Capitol attendants. Suddenly, and quite quickly actually, the said attendants direct all of you towards the elevator, cutting short the conversations. Apparently, they disapproved of the camaraderie among the Victors. But nobody really cared. Johanna is separated and goes with Katniss and Peeta.

Once you enter the dining room, you are greeted by Avoxes. You directly recognize the place. It did change, but not that much from last year. Some new decorations, nonetheless the apartment of the tributes from district 4 was seemingly almost unchanged. After five years you were back as a tribute, and not as a mentor. Ten for Finnick. What a shock, and clearly not nostalgia.

“I feel gross, I need to take a shower before eating dinner,” you say the moment you step inside. After all, it wasn’t completely false. You did feel gross with all the sticky makeup, hairstyles and clothes that felt suffocating. Water would be like some healing potion. But, at the same time, you really just wanted a break. Some minutes to calm down, away from prying eyes. Emotions were coming back too strongly. Memories, flashes, and you knew it was the case for Finnick as well. Even though he was hiding it as efficiently as you, you saw the way his fingers twitched, wanting to reach for a knot to tie and untie until his fingers would start to bleed.

“Good idea,” answers Finnick as he grabs your arm and brings you with him. His mentor, a man that you didn’t even bother to remember his name (you did but you didn’t like him), tries to protest because he wanted to talk first  about the training of tomorrow. Yet, Finnick doesn’t even bother to let him finish his sentence that he drags you towards the corridor.

“What a pain in the ass,” he whispers to you, and a smile forms on your lips at his lighthearted comment. You enter his room in his company, and then after some minutes, the both of you are standing naked in the shower.

It’s intimate. The water is hot, steam filling the places. The mirror and the glasses are covered in fog, some pearls of drops of water sliding down the material. No matter how long, you still weren’t used to the high technology of the showers of the Capitol. Finnick’s hands, covered in soap, wash your back while you stare mindlessly at the wall. It’s sweet, soft and warm. His touch, gentle, lands on your shoulders. He brings you closer to him and kisses your ear.

“Honey,” he whispers to bring you back to reality. The sound of his voice, caring, snaps you from your reverie. You turn around and smile, fingers playing with his wet hair. You take some shampoo, and wrap your arms around his neck to wash his head.

His eyes are on your face during the whole process, smiling and even chuckling at how concentrated you looked when scrubbing his scalp. It makes him groan, the way your fingers massaged his head was incredibly satisfying. You bite your lower lip in concentration, his hands grabbing your waist and bringing you closer. His mouth finds yours tenderly.

“Finnick, I can’t wash your hair like this,” you giggle against his lips. He protests by another one, smiling wider.

“Yes you can,” he retorts, which only leads you to roll your eyes before he kisses you for the third time. Washing his hair ends up being a struggle, but the man clearly didn’t want to part ways, no matter how inconvenient it was. 

It’s only some time later that you step out of the steamy water, drying yourself in his company, and then changing into clean clothes. Comfortable ones, as night time was right at the corner. Mags knocks at Finnick’s door to summon the both of you to dinner. When you arrive at the table in the company of the mentors and your stylists, the atmosphere is slightly tense. The blond sits at your side, and talks to Mags, even helping her to cut her steak as the poor old woman had shaky hands and struggled for this simple task. Even if she could do it herself, Mags being capable of cooking by herself and other things that needed cutting meat, Finnick insisted on making her life easier whenever he was around her. Just like she made his life easier since he was fourteen, as well as yours.

“I was thinking, Y/n…” suddenly starts to say the mentor of Finnick. You look at the man, nodding to let him continue as your stylists glances at you.

“You are not as mad as you look. To charm the citizens and to buy you sponsors during the games, how about with the help of your stylists, we make you a bit more… desirable, before you enter the Arena ?”

You open your eyes wider and almost choke on your food. Finnick snaps out of his conversation with Mags to listen to what was just said, before glaring at his mentor. You didn’t understand why the man was even bothering trying to make you win points and sponsors when you weren’t even the tribute he had to take care of. Strategically speaking, he would gain nothing from it. And the mere thought of having to appear like an object of desire was repulsive to you.

“I think that’s a good idea ! Showing more skin, just like Finnick. Maybe a transparent dress made in some sparkly net, would make it work,” adds your stylist. You scoff, and when you were about to retort something, Finnick crosses his arms on his chest and lift his chin while saying : 

“And I think it’s none of his concern how y/n gains sponsors. Shouldn’t you focus on me, your own tribute ?” he adds while looking at his own mentor. 

“Come on Finnick, you already have all the citizens ready to throw themselves at you ! And I know the both of you personally, it’s in my interest to see at least one of you win the games. What, are you scared she’ll steal your spotlight ? Jealous ?” the man teases, thinking he was funny while he laughs loudly. Finnick’s smile twitches, yet he stays composed. Acting like everything was fine.

“Maybe I’m a jealous man,” he answers.

“I refuse. I am the crazy girl of district 4, aren’t I ? People should pity me, not thinking I’m sexy. Getting sponsors has to go through sympathy towards someone as mad as me, nothing else,” you argue. Mags adds something too, but nobody understands her aside Finnick and you. The mentor looks displeased as he looks at you up and down, ignoring the gibberish of the old woman. 

“Well, that’s true, but I liked the idea of doing something more appealing” hums your stylist, caressing his weirdly shaped mustache.

“Just make her look like a poor pitiful girl to bring some sympathy to people’s heart,” says Finnick as he glances at him with his piercing eyes. “And you, focus on me. As long as I win, it’s all that matters, right ? So don’t waste your energy on someone else,” he continues. His mentor looks away, displeased, before deciding to resume to finish his meal.

Dinner ends in silence as you angrily eat your dinner, still baffled by what the man proposed. Mags kisses your cheek as you go to sleep later that night. Once everyone is away, Finnick joins you silently in your room. He closes the door behind him and lets himself fall on your bed next to you.

“If I could, I would have punched him on the face. Sadly, we can’t,” he suddenly says, staring at the ceiling while putting one hand behind his head. You turn on your side to face him, shifting closer. You scoff. “Trust me, I would have happily done so. This pervert, he disgusts me,” you comment with hatred. Finnick brings you closer, fingers caressing your back. 

“I think he was always interested in you. Thankfully, you're too “crazy” for him. Seems like now that we will die, he wants to try something before it’s too late. What a douchebag,” adds the blond, sighing. 

“I’d much rather die before the games than having to wear a naked dress while I talk to Ceasar Flickerman in front of the whole Panem.” Finnick chuckles slightly, but it’s a bit nervously. Even imagining you having to go through the same he goes for ten years now, makes him sick to the stomach. He would never allow that. Never. 

“We can sleep in, I don’t think anyone would bother to come early for training tomorrow,” he changes the subject. You stretch and get more comfortable against his torso, liking the skin to skin contact. If he continues to caress your back like this, you’ll surely fall asleep in a minute.

“Thanks God. We only go there to create a team, not even to train,” you mumble in a sleepy voice. Your goal was to protect Katniss after all, and from what Mags told you, Haymitch commended the girl to have allies. You obviously were Katniss’s and Peeta’s allies, but the two of them didn’t know. So it was your job to make them want you in their team.

“Let’s hope the girl in fire wants us,” whispers Finnick with a cocky voice.

“With the way you talked to her, I don’t think so, sweetheart,” you tease him. He grins before chuckling slightly at your words.

“Then, I’ll trust you to try to befriend her when I’m not around,” he responds and winks at you. You kiss his lips, and as he murmurs goodnight against your neck, you drift off to sleep.

In the morning, you take your sweet time. Mags keeps you company as you talk about training. Only the three of you with Finnick are at the dining room, eating breakfast. Eggs, pancakes with jam and syrup, some fresh fruit, milk with chocolate, coffee, orange juice… To say the least, it was delicious and filling. You thought for a moment that if you ate too much you would explode. But it wasn’t everyday that you could enjoy such tasty dishes. As you finish your plate, your stylists and Finnick’s mentor are still sleeping, not present around the table. Not that you minded, you felt more comfortable staying with Mags and the blond. Clearly, nobody really took this Quarter Quell that seriously. 

It’s only later in the morning that you go down to the training ground. Tributes are missing, surely sleeping in for the day. As they should, you thought. You look around and spot your targets. Peeta is with Brutus and Chaff, Katniss struggling at the knot-tying station. You elbow Finnick slightly and make him look at the braided girl. “She really is clueless,” he chuckles. You give him a stare and turn towards other vacant stations. 

“Maybe you should go help her,” you propose, winking at him. He smiles at you and the two of you split ways. 

You arrive at the station where tributes can learn to build fires. You recognize the tributes from District 3, and smile as you greet Wiress and Beete. Behind his glasses, he greets you as well. The trainer has the three of you work with flint, steel, and some charred cloth.  Wiress starts a conversation with you, but like always, drops her words mid-sentence as if she forgot you’re here. You liked both of them from the little interactions you had through the years. They were a little bit strange, but not as strange as you. Every Victor was nuts in their own way if we looked into it. While you busy yourself with building a fire, you check how Finnick is doing.

The blond arrives behind the struggling Katniss. He puts his arms around her from behind, his fingers easily finishing the complicated knot she's been sweating over. She watches for a minute while he picks up a length of rope, makes a noose, and then pretends to hang himself for her amusement as he jokes while saying “do you wanna take me for a walk ?” You chuckle slightly to yourself at his antics, amused to see him trying to make her laugh. Clearly, Finnick didn’t have the best tactics to befriend her and make her want to make him his ally. You felt like that mission was a weight on your shoulders now. Katniss rolls her eyes at what your lover said and heads over to your station. A bit surprised, you compose yourself as she arrives in front of you.

“Hello Katniss,” you say as you make room for her to sit at your side.

“Hello y/n,” she answers as she gazes at you. She mostly is remembering you from yesterday. 

“I thought you would already know how to build a fire ?” you start to say.

“I already make good fires, but I’m still pretty dependent on matches for starting them,” she explains. You smile at her and pass your flint, steel and charred cloth. She takes them in her hands and analyzes the objects for a solid second.

“Here, try with these,” you propose. She looks at you a bit surprised, but it barely lasts the blink of an eye before she says thank you and starts to train with some help from the trainer and yourself. You keep a watchful eye on her as you notice how she gives glances at Wiress and Beete. You feel like she wants to ask something. An awkward conversation is followed by, while you decide what to do next. Finnick is using the archery station. Johanna is naked and oiling her skin down for a wrestling lesson. Even if you ached to go back to your lover or your friend, you prefer to stay put and see how it goes. You turn around and catch up with their conversation. Wiress brings up some sort of stitching device she’s working on.

“It senses the density of the fabric and selects the strength,” Wiress says, and then becomes absorbed in a bit of dry straw before she can go on. 

“The strength of the thread. Automatically. It rules out human error,” Beetee finishes explaining. Then he talks about his recent success creating a musical chip that’s tiny enough to be concealed in a flake of glitter but can hold hours of songs. You directly see a flicker in the eyes of Katniss, as if she jumped on the occasion of saying something. “Oh, yeah. My prep team was all upset a few months ago, I think, because they couldn’t get hold of that,” she says casually. You directly understand that she is trying to have some news about the uprisings of the rebels.

“I guess a lot of orders from District 3 were getting backed up,” Beetee examines her under his glasses. 

“Did you have any similar backups in coal production this year ?” you ask. 

“No. Well, we lost a couple of weeks when they brought in a new Head Peacekeeper and his crew, but nothing major. To production, I mean. Two weeks sitting around your house doing nothing just means two weeks of being hungry for most people,” she explains. You understand. District 12 had no uprising. 

“Oh. That’s a shame,” you say and Wiress confirms in a slightly disappointed voice.  “I found your district very…” Wiress trails off, distracted by something in her head. “Interesting,” fills in Beetee. 

“We all did,” Finnick suddenly says from behind you. His hands are crossed in his back, looking at Wiress and Beete, then at you, before finally landing on Katniss. He left the archery station, surely to check up on you and see how it was going with the girl on fire. After all, your goal was to befriend her a bit, so she would choose you as an ally. Even if you already were without her or Peeta knowing. 

“Hello Finnick, I see that you took interest…” starts Wiress before losing track. “In building a fire,” ends Beete. Finnick chuckles slightly, amused by their way of talking. 

“Handling fire can be a hard task,” he comments, gazing at Katniss before sitting next to you, thighs brushing yours. He mindlessly starts to use a flint, while Katniss, uncomfortable, clears her throat.

“Well, there aren’t very many of us in Twelve. Not that you’d know it nowadays by the size of the Peacekeeping force. But I guess we’re interesting enough,” she defends herself. As you move over to the shelter station, Wiress stops and gazes up at the stands where the Gamemakers are roaming around. They barely take notice of the tributes, busy with eating and drinking endlessly. Like each year. You would like to see them go down and try any of these vacant stations, watching them being no better than a baby learning how to crawl. 

“Look,” Wiress says, giving her head a slight nod in their direction. You, Finnick and Katniss follow her direction, look up and see Plutarch Heavensbee in the magnificent purple robe with the fur-trimmed collar that designates him as Head Gamemaker. He’s eating a turkey leg. Finnick stares at him, and you notice how for a fleeting moment they look at each other before he resumes to eat back his meat. 

“He is the new Head Gamemaker. A bit special, maybe more than Ceneca Crane,” comments the blond. Finnick knows that mentioning the dead man would provoke something, and bingo, Katniss tenses.

“No, no. There by the corner of the table. You can just…” says Wiress. Beetee squints under his glasses. “Just make it out,” he fills in. 

You stare in that direction, perplexed. Finnick grabs your chin and makes you look towards a specific spot. You finally see it. A patch of space about six inches square at the corner of the table seems almost to be vibrating. It’s as if the air is rippling in tiny visible waves, distorting the sharp edges of the wood and a goblet of wine someone has set there.

“A force field. They’ve set one up between the Gamemakers and us. I wonder what brought that on,” Beetee says. “Me, probably. Last year I shot an arrow at them during my private training session,” Katniss confesses. Beetee and Wiress look at her curiously. Finnick claps his hands, impressed.

“Wow, talk about something,” you chuckle as you smile at her in a teasing smirk. She looks away and back at the force field.

“I was provoked… So, do all force fields have a spot like that ?” she continues.

“Chink,” says Wiress vaguely. “In the armor, as it were,” finishes Beetee. 

The conversation is cut short as lunch is announced. You breathe, and all of you separate ways. You walk with Finnick as you summarize the conversation you had earlier with the three of them before he arrived.

“Well, meanwhile Peeta is getting friendly. Surrounded by ten other Victors,” explains Finnick as he gazes around while you arrive at the dining area. Talking about Peeta, him and his gang are dragging all the smaller tables to form one large table so that everyone can eat together. “He’s a smart boy,” you comment.

You eat in between Finnick and Johanna. The afternoon training comes around, and your first day ends in exhaustion, cuddled to Finnick while dozing off in your bed. 

During the next two days, you continue to go train at the stations and sometimes have the pleasure of having Katniss join you and Finnick. He gives her an hour of trident lessons in exchange for an hour of archery instruction. Finnick being Finnick, at every occasion he had to be close to you during the archery training, he would gladly jump on it. Which made Katniss look surprised to see the two of you being so close, before she understood quickly that you were dating. She didn’t say anything about it or mentioned it. Katniss kept her mouth shut, and it’s not like she would gain anything in saying that the two of you were lovers.

Maybe Finnick judged that the girl was trustworthy enough. He was right. And, you couldn’t help but feel like it didn’t matter anymore to continue to hide your love to the Capitol or anybody else. The two of you will die soon. Masking your feelings for each other during your final moments was just useless. So, for the following days of training, even when the gamemakers were looking in your direction, you took Finnick’s hand in yours, and he never missed an opportunity to steal a kiss.

The final day of training ends with your private sessions. You each get fifteen minutes before the gamemakers to amaze them with your skills. There’s a lot of kidding about it at lunch. What people might do. Sing, dance, strip, tell jokes. Everyone just wanted to mock the gamemakers, because there was nothing else to prove anymore.

You pondered, not knowing what to do. Mags told you last night to take a nap, saying that’s what she would have done. You chuckled, not completely erasing the idea from your mind. But really, what was the last thing you could show ? Making them lose their time was appealing, but provoking them was as well. You were sure Katniss Everdeen would do so. She was bold.

As you were waiting for your turn, Finnick held your hand.

“You perfectly know how to untie yourself from a rope, how about doing something around that idea ? Like, grabbing one of the gamemakers and tying him to a tree and waiting for a big wave to drown him,” he explains, referencing your games five years ago. You nudge him slightly with a small grin, wishing you could make them go through what you went.

“Tempting, but there is the force field, and I don’t know how to provoke a tsunami,” you chuckled.

“Beats me, that would have been a good idea,” he sighs, disappointed, before laughing.

“What will you do ?” you ask. He squeezes your hand as his turn approaches.

“I don’t know. I don’t even want to give them the time of the day. Maybe I'll throw my trident at a dummy with “President Snow” written on it, but I don’t think it would do me any good. I’ll get killed first second the games start,” he proposes, shrugging. Finnick was half joking, but you knew if he had the chance to do such a felony without any consequences, he would.

“If you do, I’ll give anything to see that.” 

“Maybe I should take off my clothes and go around naked ? Since they like to see me with the lesser clothes on, uh ?” he jokes bitterly. 

“Finnick…” you sigh as you look at him, pained that it was a sad reality. He can’t answer as they call his name, it’s his turn. He stands up, kisses your forehead tenderly and steps back. 

“Wish me good luck, love,” he winks at you.

“Good luck, don’t do anything too stupid,” you answer.

You are left alone. Minutes pass. You wait for your turn, leg shaking anxiously. You bite the inside of your cheek, your hands getting sweaty. You struggled to find an idea. What could you do ? You didn’t really care about the points you will obtain. All you wished was to make them gasp, bother them, make them uncomfortable, make them remember what they did to you, Finnick, other Victors and any kid that ever got reaped for the Hunger Games. You pounder. Actually, what Finnick proposed gave you an idea.

It’s your turn, no more time to think about other possibilities.

You enter the area. The gamemakers look at you, it’s silent. Plutarch Heavensbee stares. You take a deep breath, and start your demonstration. You take a dummy, tie it to a metal post, in the exact same way you got tied during the games. As you look at it, you feel like you are seeing yourself years in the past. Your fist tightens, but you calm down and go take a black pen. As you write the words on the dummy, your hand is shaking. Fear, anger, nervousness, a swirl of emotions that accompanies each pen stroke. You are sure that with this, they’ll try to end you the first second you step into the Arena. But if they didn’t succeed once, then twice you will survive before another tribute ends you.

You step back, grab a spear next to the trident that you were sure Finnick used for his private session, and put red paint on the sharp blade. In a scream of rage you throw it right where the heart of the dummy should be. It lands in a sickening sound right where you wanted, more exactly on the word “kids”. One last breath, looking at your chef d’oeuvre.

“Next, it will be your kids,” is written, with red paint like blood streaming down the last letters, where the spear stabbed.

You leave instantly after, not waiting to be dismissed. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

It’s only after tomorrow night that you have your televised interview. For the following days, you were free to enjoy your last moments in Finnick’s company. Ignoring everything else, even if it was hard, and only focusing on him and only him. Normally you were supposed to have a coaching session with your mentors tomorrow, but clearly, discussing anything with Finnick’s mentor already sounded like a hassle. 

At dinner time, Finnick and you agreed to keep a secret, aside from Mags, how your private training session went. All weren’t pleased, but clearly, both of you could care less. It was a surprise to see Katniss and Peeta both having 12 points. You wondered what they did. Later that night, Finnick is at the balcony, looking down at the Capitol city filled with lights, cars, extravagant people, and much more. You notice the knot in between his hands. He is tying and untying it mindlessly, like a machine. His fingers are bleeding, bright red crackles on his flesh. His stylist will not be happy about this, you thought.

“Finnick,” you say as you approach him. His back is facing you, and he slightly gazes at you but remains focused on the city lights. Some breeze makes his messy hair move. You shiver a bit.

“What you did earlier was bold, y/n. You did even better than me,” he chuckles slightly. You look at his hands, and don’t believe his smile for a second.

“You don’t look that pleased about it,” you answer as your hand gently caresses his, and inch by inch free his fingers from the rope. In a thud it falls on the ground at your feet.

“I am proud that you dared to do that. But I’m worried. Because now, aside from only seeing you as the mad girl of district 4, you became a target. A foot in the Arena, and who knows what they will throw at you to eliminate you as fast as possible ? I need you by my side until the very end. And I’m scared to lose you before I can even realise that what I heard was the cannon signaling your death, y/n,” he confesses, turning around to look you in the eyes. His hands land on your cheeks, cupping them and forcing you to see the pain written on his  scared face. 

“I know what I did. But they will mostly target Katniss first. I’ll face the consequences no matter what, but will still stay by your side. Do you understand me ? I won’t die that easily, Finnick. I promise,” you affirm, staying on your ground. Softly, you brush his left hand, grab it and kiss his palm. The bruises on his flesh are still fresh, but small enough to not hurt badly. 

He doesn’t answer, conflicted. Finnick wanted to go in this suicidal rebel quest alone. Never would he have wanted to bring you into this, but you did, you volunteered, and now both of you were in too deep to back down. 

“Y/n, listen to me carefully…” he whispers seriously, bringing you intimately closer. You nod, letting him speak freely.

“If you die before me, I’ll go mad. If you die before me, I’ll drop the plan. I won’t care anymore about protecting the Mockingjay,” he admits, with a harsh facial expression. He wasn’t kidding, he would. You part your lips, surprised, and then shake your head in disapproval.

“No, if that happens you have to continue, you-”

“I won’t. Y/n I won’t be able to,” he cuts you mid-sentence. You frown, and step back from his touch.

“So what, you’ll let yourself die ?” you scoff, not wanting to believe it. But that wouldn’t be too out of character, as you were his anchor in life. Not having you anymore was like leaving someone blind without a cane. Left in the darkness with nothing else to help them. Worse, if he managed to survive the games and be rescued by district 13, he would forever have the guilt of your death on his hands. Haunting him every day and night. Sure, Mags would still be here for him. But she is a very old woman, and eventually Finnick would end up all alone for the rest of his life. 

“There would be no other option than sacrificing myself as quickly as possible if you are not here anymore,” he answers by lifting his chin, showing you that he was sure of what he was saying. 

“And what if you die first ? You want me to do the same thing ? I know you won’t let me do that. You’ll want me to fight and to live until I can’t breathe anymore,” you retort. Finnick inhales in a shaky manner, looking at you without answering. He ends up letting himself slide against the wall, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“You’re right. I’m selfish,” he whispers. “We both are when it comes to love each other,” you answer as you squat down and sit in between his legs, hugging him. His hands are softly  wrapping around your body, inhaling your scent to anchor himself that for now, you were alive and here with him. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. As an answer, you kiss him back on the lips, because no words could express the raw feeling you were experiencing right now. “Let’s fight together until Panem is free,” he says in an almost silent voice, staring at the sky.

“Until Panem is free,” you repeat. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Next day, both of you avoid Finnick's mentor by all cost, with the help of Mags. The man wanted to discuss the interview, and to come back to his words about the outfit you could wear and make you an object of desire to earn sponsors. After managing to escape him, the both of you spend time in the bathroom, enjoying the water. Finnick makes you laugh, splashes bubbles on you, helps you wash your hair, kisses you senseless and overall tries his best to distract his mind. When you land naked on the bed, door locked, you savor every moment of intimacy you two could have before it was too late.

Since the day the two of you made love before the reaping, a whole new level of proximity in your relationship was getting explored. Still being careful, you both became more and more comfortable and confident during those warm and loving moments. Only the two of you existed at that moment. Nobody else. Your touch and only your touch. 

As Finnick keeps you in his arms, pampering kisses on your skin and making love to you for the last time, it feels as if you were on a fluffy cloud. Somewhere else, irreal. You cry. You cry because you didn’t want it to end, because it felt too good, both physically and emotionally. You even came to regret not discovering this with him before. Connecting to Finnick on a level that deep was a blessing. Because only you had the chance to see the real him in this moment of intimacy. Not the people that he sold himself to. Only you made him feel cared for, loved for, alive, happy, and intense pleasure during those moments. 

He tenderly kisses your tears, cradling you against his chest as the both of you are close to the end. When you reach your high, it’s bittersweet. Once the feeling of ecstasy washes over the two of you, you are left in a bizarre mix of sadness and contentment. You spend the remaining time cuddling each other naked, skin to skin, before Mags knocks at the door saying dinner is ready.

At the dining table, this time you couldn’t escape your stylist and Finnick’s mentor. They talk about the interview, and you ignore them the best you can while munching on your chicken. You didn’t want to know what outfit you will have to wear. You hoped that your stylist would just stick to dressing you in a way that would make people feel pity and sympathy for a poor mad girl like you. That night, you had nightmares where you were forced to sell your body. When you refused, Snow killed Finnick in front of your eyes while you were tied to a tree, unable to escape the ropes to save him in time. When you woke up sweating and panicked in the middle of the night, Finnick lulled you back to sleep until morning came back.

When it is time, your preparation team makes you go back to your room to start the makeover. Hair, nails, makeup. From what you saw, you could determine that the makeup being done wasn’t something sexy or anything like that. You felt relieved. You get changed into a dress with elements that remind of District 4. Nothing was too revealing, and for the first time in your entire life, you thought that maybe you didn’t hate your stylist that much. What a sad thought when it was the last night you would ever see him before he would change you tomorrow morning for the games…

It’s at the elevator that you meet Mags, Finnick, his stylist and his mentor. He is wearing a different outfit, and for once, his clothes only revealed a part of his torso. Not like at the entrance ceremony one week ago. He looked handsome, and he smiled at you, relieved to see the choices of clothes you were wearing as well. When you wait in the elevator, Finnick, on purpose, kisses your lips in front of everyone. Maybe to show to his mentor that he could forever forget whatever he had in mind for you. Not like it would matter tomorrow when you will be in the Arena.

The other tributes have already gathered offstage and are talking softly. You chat with Johanna, but everyone gets silent when Katniss and Peeta arrive. She is wearing a wedding dress. Finally, Finnick says, surprised : 

“I can’t believe Cinna put you in that thing.”

“He didn’t have any choice. President Snow made him,” Katniss answers, somewhat defensively. Cashmere tosses her flowing blond curls back and spits out that Katniss looks ridiculous. She grabs her brother’s hand and pulls him into place to lead your procession onto the stage. The other tributes begin to line up as well. Johanna actually stops to straighten Katniss' pearl necklace. “Make him pay for it, okay ?” she says.

“Don’t forget to burn the stage to the ground, girl on fire,” you add as you pat her shoulder, giving her a mysterious wink. It was just a metaphor, because all you wanted right now was to see the Katniss you saw during the 74th Hunger Games. A fierce girl with a raging fire inside her heart.

Tributes start to go one by one on the stage. Caesar Flickerman greets them with his usual charm and big smile. This year, he is all in lavender. The first interviews start and everyone can feel the betrayal the victors feel. It all comes back to reflect on the government and President Snow in particular. But it’s not the case for everyone. Like Brutus and Enobaria, who are just here for another Games. Others that went nuts with drugs or simply by mentally breaking down, are incapable of smartly criticizing the Quarter Quell and their comeback in the games. 

Cashmere starts the ball rolling with a speech about how she just can’t stop crying when she thinks of how much the people in the Capitol must be suffering because they will lose you all. Gloss recalls the kindness shown here to him and his sister. Beetee questions the legality of the Quell in his nervous, twitchy way, wondering if it’s been fully examined by experts of late. 

Soon, it’s your turn. You are greeted by Ceasar and applauded. You weren’t as popular as other Victors, but enough to have at least some people excited to see you on the stage. 

Caesar acts on empathy, feeling sorry for you but still manages to entertain the citizens. You decide to continue your little act of the pitiful crazy girl.

“I know I am mad, the games destroyed me. But sending me back twice ? How cruel… have President Snow really no mercy for someone as lost as me ? For all of us ?” you start to say with fake tears streaming down your cheeks. Caesar hugs you slightly, people are protesting about the Quarter Quell and that it was unfair to send back the beloved Victors that they adored so much. Discreetly, while your back is turned to the audience when hugging Ceasar, you wink at Finnick. He smiles at you proudly, and even quickly blows you a kiss that only you noticed.

Now it’s the turn of the blond. Finnick recites a poem he wrote to his one true love in the Capitol, and about a hundred people faint because they’re sure he means them. But as each word is pronounced, you recognize all the little elements that only the two of you could understand. Subtle references of the time you spent together, vague descriptions that intimately described your personality and looks. Finnick was opening his heart raw to you in front of Panem, but only you knew that his one true love was you. 

By the time Johanna gets up, she’s asking if something can’t be done about the situation. Surely the creators of the Quarter Quell never anticipated such love forming between the victors and the Capitol. No one could be so cruel as to sever such a deep bond. Seeder quietly ruminates about how, back in District 11, everyone assumes President Snow is all-powerful. So if he’s allpowerful, why doesn’t he change the Quell ? And Chaff insists the president could change the Quell if he wanted to, but he must not think it matters much to anyone. 

By the time Katniss is introduced, the audience is an absolute wreck. People have been weeping and collapsing and even calling for change. The sight of her in her white silk bridal gown practically causes a riot. Caesar’s professionalism is showing some cracks as he tries to quiet them so she can speak. As her interview comes to an end, she begins to twirl slowly, raising the sleeves of her heavy gown above her head. Everyone starts screaming when her dress gets on fire. She continues to spin, until the fire is gone. The smoke reveals a different attire. She opens her arms, wings are seen. Katniss, the girl on fire, has turned into a mockingjay.

Seeing this is a reminder for every rebel present around all Panem that Katniss was their feather of hope. You swallow your saliva, squeezing Finnick’s arm as you are mesmerized. Your determination to continue your plan and protect her is getting stronger than ever. But now you are sure that Cinna, her personal stylist that designed that dress, will pay for it with his life. The significance of her astounding transformation will not be lost on President Snow. 

It’s Peeta’s turn now. Everyone is still shocked as he starts to talk with Ceasar in the usual playfulness and jokes. Peeta announces that they are already married, Katniss and her. Somewhat, you get jealous. Because you wish you could have done so with Finnick before it was too late, but both of you knew it was impossible at that time.

“As you say, no one could’ve. But I have to confess, I’m glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together,” says Ceasar sadly, but still proud. Enormous applauses are heard at his words.

“I’m not glad. I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially,” answers Peeta. Caesar is taken aback, surprised and curious about what he meant. “Surely even a brief time is better than no time ?” he answers as he raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe I’d think that, too, Caesar. If it weren’t for the baby,” says Peeta bitterly. Your mouth is hanging low. Gasps, screams, people faint.

“He really is something else,” chuckles Finnick nervously. It’s like a bomb, a big enormous bomb that you saw in your nightmares. Accusations of injustice, barbarism and cruelty are heard in every corner. It was horrific. People are protesting, chaos is brought. Seeing it upclause, no matter if what Peeta said was true or not, you couldn’t help but feel like you never saw someone as smart as him. Saying this was exactly what made even Capitol citizens protest against The Hunger Games. Something you have never seen before.

Suddenly, something unexpected but full of force happens. From left to right, Victors begin to join hands. Firmly, you take the hand of Finnick, and at your left Johanna’s. Your palms are sweaty, but a deep feeling of euphoria and raging need to provoke President Snow are running down your veins. Your breath is erratic, everyone looking at this unbreakable line of joined hands with pure surprise. It was the first public show of unity among the districts since the Dark Days. The screens begin to pop into blackness, trying to stop anyone from seeing this rebellious act of union against the games. You smile with victory as you and every other Victors realize it’s too late. In the confusion they didn’t cut all of you off in time. Everyone has seen. 

Everyone has seen the final sparkle that just set ablaze Panem. Fire was finally catching. 

chapter 3

Tag list :

@winterbearwonderland

[maeedrg]

UNTIL PANEM IS FREE

MASTERLIST a Finnick Odair x reader series

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summary : You and Finnick Odair are trying to navigate through your romantic relationship, but the Quarter Quell approaches and the two of you are thrown again into the Arena. Until Panem is free, you will never be allowed to love each other freely. Both Finnick and you are determined to see the Capitol burn to ashes, for the sake of the people, and for the sake of your love as well.

genre : doomed lovers, angst, fighting for freedom, dystopian, catching fire, mockingjay, lovers to non lovers to lovers again.

warnings : referenced sexual assault, violence, murder, death, torture, intimacy, loving sex, angts and hurt/comfort, do I need to say more ? Its THG, be warned.

numbers of parts : unknown but it's a long fic !

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ autor’s note : it's Basically a fanfic retracing the volume two and three of the franchise. Mind that it’s based on the books canon, and not the movies !! It's my first time as well writing a THG fanfic, so be mindfull and I hope you guys will like it !

chap 1 : until Panem is free (11.k) You and Finnick are secretly dating, hiding your love from the Capitol and enjoying the time you had at the sea. Your last hope of freedom is cut short when the Quartel Quell is announced. The Arena is back right at the corner.

chap 2 : until Panem is free (10.k) you and Finnick are going to the Capitol for the Opening Ceremony of the Quarter Quell. You have one week to start your plan before the Hunger Games begin, and that involves making the Mockingjay your ally. Fire was catching.

chap 3 : until Panem is free (10.k) you are thrown in the Arena with Finnick, but everything doesn’t go according to plan. Staying by his side, alive and safe, seems harder than you thought.

chap 4 : until Panem is free (10.k) caught in the games, you try as much as you can to enjoy the last hours of your life with Finnick. The rescuing from District 13 is right at the corner, but the plan doesn’t go as you expected at all.

chap 5 : until Panem is free (8.k) kidnapped by the Capitol, you are persuaded that Finnick was dead because of you. Everything becomes a blur, your daily journey filled with propaganda, torture, occasionally seeing Peeta and Johanna, until something unexpected happens..

chap 6 : until Panem is free (9.6k) you weren't sure if Finnick was alive. Until you are rescued by District 13, and have to face a new kind of problem. The man that haunted your darkest nightmares.

chap 7 : until Panem is free (9.k) rescued by District 13, being hijacked, you learn how to trust back Finnick, and fight against your traumas. But it’s not as smooth as you thought.

chap 8 : until Panem is free (9.2k) back from the hospital, you learn that Finnick is chosen to be part of the squad that will battle against the Capitol. You decide to join him, training everyday, while you question if your relationship is still romantic or not. But then, Finnick confesses something that will shake you forever. And your first fight with Finnick since the announcement of the Quarter Quell happens.

etc...

Trailer

[maeedrg]

UNTIL PANEM IS FREE

Chapter one

75th Hunger Games Finnick Odair x reader

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MASTERLIST of the series

currently reading ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4

synopsis : You and Finnick are secretly dating, hiding your love from the Capitol and enjoying the time you had at the sea. Your last hope of freedom is cut short when the Quartel Quell is announced. The Arena is back right at the corner.

words count : 11k.

warnings : mention of sexual assault, fluff (quite a lot for this first chapter), angst, sexual intimacy, doomed love, mention of death

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Until Panem is free, loving Finnick Odair would never bring you peace. Even in death.

Today was a bit chilly. At this hour of the evening, the sun was slowly setting down at the horizon, caressing his golden skin. The blondish color of his hair was getting lighter because of the salty water tainting it after endless hours staying at the beach. The wind of the sea made you shiver. Above your head, the clouds slowly disperse themselves. Soon, the golden rays shine on the green of his eyes. You get lost for a moment in the forest like colour. Like you always did since the first day you met him. 

“Don’t look at me, look at the knot,” Finnick chuckles while tying the ropes with an expert hand in front of your eyes. You couldn’t help but stare at his dimples, and the way his smile lines embraced his tanned cheeks. They were a bit red from the sun, even though it wasn’t summer or even spring yet. But on the west coast of Panem, more exactly district 4, fall maintained a warm coat. 

“I was looking at the knot,” you protest and shift closer. As a matter of proving him wrong, you grab the ropes from his hold. Your hand brushes his, and in some swift moves you quickly create the knot he intended to show you.

“Not bad, but it’s still a bit too loose,” he hums before suddenly grabbing your hands. You don’t even have time to react, the ropes are already tied around your wrists. The tie is tight, and seemingly unbreakable from your point of view.

“There. This is tight enough. Try to break free," he muses as he glances at you from the corner of his eyes. Finnick just wanted to test your ability in untying the ropes, seeing how fast you would react, and if panic would start to rise. Maybe to tease you as well. But really, the meaning behind this was to mainly prepare you in case… you were in a situation that needed instant reaction in using a rope, as well as escaping it.

This situation didn’t include fishing techniques. 

Finnick knew that you were a strong girl. You managed to survive the 70th hunger games, becoming one of the victors of District 4. But, he would never forget the dread he felt when staring at your almost lifeless form plastered on the screen that he was forced to watch when he was your mentor. 

The other tribute that was sent with you, a boy one year older and merely thicker than you were, almost killed you. With a rope that he managed to find during the bloodbath, he strangled you, causing you to lose consciousness, and tied you to a tree. The boy seemingly didn’t have the heart to end the life of a girl he knew from school, and instead decided to let other tributes murder you by letting your vulnerable body there. It was surprising. Him, as well as you, were careers. He was trained to kill, and even volunteered as tributes on the reaping. You realized that soon, the brainwashing put into him and you as well to become killing machines, completely disappeared when the bloodbath happened to instead be replaced by utter fear, horror and despair. This weakness allowed you to survive but at the cost of his life. Soon after, he was decapitated. It happened during the first day of the games.

Days passed. Tied to this tree, suffocating in your own panic attacks, knowing the lack of supplies to survive meant an upcoming death. Nobody else found you, which was surprising, with nothing to do aside than desperately trying to free yourself to at least intend to eat or drink something, before it was too late. You couldn’t accept such a pathetic death. Your wish came true in an unexpected way. Water found you. The game was boring for the Capitol citizens, not enough distracting deaths. To bring back the attention of the viewers, the gamemakers burst open the nearby dam, flooding the entire Arena with tsunamis. It’s only thanks to your teeth and nails that after days of biting, scratching, eating the rope, you managed to break free before getting swallowed by the waves. You were the only survivor.

You looked at Finnick, the man who was once your mentor and now your lover. You then looked back down to your tied hands. You knew why he did that. Finnick cared deeply for you. Maybe too much. He never wanted this inability of mishandling ropes to lead you again somewhere sinister. Even though, as a victor, you would never go to the games again, he insisted on making you stronger. Ready for anything coming your way. We never knew. After all, The Capitol was as dangerous as the Arena.

“I can do it,” you answer as you directly chase the sore memories of being imprisoned against the tree. More like you wanted to convince yourself that you could.

“I know you can. You successfully did it last month,” he confirms, his warm hand landing on your shoulder. Last month. Exactly, almost every 4 weeks, Finnick would ask you to help him with ropes. You both knew it wasn’t for actually helping him out in whatever hobby he kept after winning the games 5 years prior yours.

His hand slides down your arm, his fingers touch the knot, brushing your skin.

“I showed you how to untie this one,” he continues more calmly.

“But my hands weren’t tied, and now I can barely move my fingers !” you end up panicking, feeling a ball of anxiety in your throat, before he slides his palm on your cheek and makes you look into his eyes. You instantly calm down. What a beautiful green. Green like a forest during summer, green like your favorite fish shaped bread of the district, green like the cover of your childhood book, green like the beautiful dress your mother gave you for the reaping, green like him, green like Finnick.

“You said you can do it, y/n. So do,” he repeats what you said. You take a deep breath and look back down to your wrists. Again. A second deep breath. A third. Inhale, exhale, and act. You get concentrated on the difficult task, almost distort your fingers, but manage to free yourself thanks to your teeth. You pull on the rope, and then voilà.

“See ? I told you !” he exclaims happily, showing you his toothy grin and then lifting you up as if you just won something special. He was proud of you, to say the least. How could he not ? That was the Finnick you learned to love. Someone easy to live with, someone that wasn’t as The Capitol made him be : an object of desire. Just the real him.

One, two, and at the third step you understood that he was walking towards the sea waves. Finnick was like a fish man. He adored being in the water more than anything else. You were part of it. Bringing you with him in the depth of the sea was like sealing his love for swimming and his love for you in one special moment. Consider it like a therapy as well, to reconnect with how good the waves feel, instead of remembering how atrocious they were in the Arena five years prior. 

“Finnick, don’t you dare !” you groan as you just finished drying barely a few minutes ago. Being drenched again wasn’t in your to do list of the evening.

“A little swim will do you some good, honey,” he insists as he slowly sinks the two of you in the water. The seagulls scream as they fly above your heads, and you struggle to grip yourself more closely to the blond. He lets out a small laugh at how desperately you avoid getting your skin wet. Well, it’s too late. 

“We don’t have time for that ! Mags is waiting for us, dinner was supposed to be ready 30 minutes ago !” you protest. But you couldn’t help but appreciate this moment in his company. The setting sun casted a warm glow on the sea, softly illuminating the both of you. He looked ethereal at this moment. Maybe he was right, a little swim will do you some good. 

“Five more minutes won’t kill anyone,” he adds before suddenly bringing you under the water with him. Your scream of surprise gets cut the moment you close your mouth to prevent you from suffocating. Soon, you feel gentle lips against yours. Finnick brings you back at the surface to allow you to breathe as he dips in for another kiss.

You can’t help but melt. Eyes closed, your mouth slowly moves in a sweet dance against the one of your lover. When he slightly detaches his lips from yours, you delicately put your hand on his forehead and bring back his hair from sticking to his skin.

“Come on, let’s not make Mags wait any longer,” you whisper in the quietness of the moment. The waves gently rock your bodies, before Finnick sighs in a smile and brings you back on land. Walking calmly on the sand while carrying you in bridal style, he gazes at your wrists securely wrapped around his neck. He thinks back about the ropes. You did well.

“I bet she bought some of your favorite bread,” Finnick says as he puts you down where your belongings longed on the floor next to a big rock.

“We’ll find out,” you answer in a smile.

Back to the Victor houses, more exactly Finnick’s one, you got scolded by the old lady in her own fashion way of talking. Something you got used to hearing which led to understanding. Of course, Mags wasn’t very pleased to see the two of you dripping on the clean floor of the kitchen. Like kids, because in her eyes, you both still were, she ordered the two of you to get changed and clean yourself from the sand and the sea salt before eating dinner.

You were the first one to take a shower, busy scrubbing away the sand that managed to get in between many body parts, including inconvenient ones. Finnick, on the other side of the door, was busy putting his and your drenched clothes to dry. Walking around the house in only undergarments wasn’t something unusual for him. He waited for you to finish, leaning against the door like a guard dog would do. Not like there was any danger. But these past weeks, with how the tension kept rising amongst districts, his paranoia was getting the better of him. Who could know what next move the Capitol would have when he least expects it ? Of course, it’s not like peacekeepers would barge into this house and try to get to him, or worse, you, while you are taking a shower. Yet, he always kept a watchful eye all the time.

Once you are done, opening the door and stepping out, he smiles as he kisses your cheek.

“Took you long enough,” he teases as he glances at how you changed in your pajamas. More like you changed into his clothes that you used for sleeping. He can’t help but grin to himself as he felt something warm in his chest when seeing how comfortable you felt with him to wear his shirt. Something that took you some time to be.

You planned to sleep here tonight, like almost every night, actually. You look back at him and his disheveled hair from the sea water and the wind. 

“I was lost in thoughts, I didn’t see time passes,” you explain simply. His gaze softened immediately.

“What were you thinking about ?” he gently asks as he gets closer.

“The Arena,” was your answer. Finnick swallows, before brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek in the softest gesture ever. 

“The Arena is behind you. Aside from being a mentor, you will never have to put a foot inside of it ever again,” he whispers while taking your face in his hands. His eyes sink into yours, showing the ultimate truth they behold. A little smile embraces your face. Softly, you peck his cheek.

“I know. You can take your shower now, I’ll wait for you downstairs,” you step away and give him one last glance before walking towards the corridor.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he ends up saying in this charming voice of his, winking at you the moment you turn to acknowledge what he just said. You chuckle and blow him a kiss. One minute later, Finnick is already in the shower.

Later that night, after eating the dinner Mags prepared for the three of you, including food supplies the Capitol sent to the Victors each year, it was time for a much needed rest. Days got slowly shorter, winter was soon at the corner. Laying in bed, cuddled in the arms of your anchor in this world, you couldn’t help but think about the fact that soon Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark will have their Victory Tour. Announcing that six months after it, the reaping would happen again. And then, the Hunger Games.

“Finnick. Do you think that if we were put in the same Arena, we would end up like Katniss and Peeta ? Two Victors ?” you suddenly asked as you raised your head from his chest. He looked surprised by your question, before looking at the ceiling.

“Oh honey, I think I would be dead, and you a Victor.” You look at his eyes. He wasn’t looking back at you. Somewhat, knowing how far he’ll go for your sake, pains you more than anything.

“What do you… why wouldn’t I be the one dead, and you the Victor ?” you protest, slowly sitting up to face him better. He keeps his left arm under his head, the right one shifts on your waist. He looks at you seriously.

“Because I would never let you sacrifice yourself for my sake. Or maybe, us being both dead would be better. Like this, the Capitol would never be able to hurt us again.” He was right. Being dead was surely a gift in this damned world. 

“… we’ll never be free, will we ?” you whisper in a sigh of despair. Finnick directly senses your upcoming panic, and he brings you back towards his torso. Instantly, you snuggle against the crook of his neck. His lips protectively kiss the top of your head.

“Not until the Capitol burns to the ground. No.” A dead silence follows right after his words. If peacekeepers heard him even uttering this sentence, Victor or not, Finnick would be executed for treason. You freeze at the simple image of having to face the public execution of once the golden boy of Panem, reduced to an example for the citizen to never cross the law.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter pained.

“For what ?”

“That your case is worse than mine, that you have to endure to be the “golden boy” of the Capitol, while you protect me from having my body sold when yours is used like this. You don’t have to do all this,” you speak your mind as you grip harder on his skin without realizing.

“I know what it is to go through this hell, and I’ll never let you have to experience this. If I’m their little object of desire, they will not notice you. As long as they think that you just are a crazy woman that lost her mind after winning the games, they won’t see you as something ‘desirable’,” he explains distantly, yet you felt how his hand slightly shook around your waist. That broke your heart.

“It’s not far from the truth,” you answer after some seconds of reflection. What could you answer to this ? Finnick was right. It’s not like dating him was doing you any good. If the Capitol knew how much you both cared about each other, they could use it against the two of you. At this point of your life, you were tired of having to hide. And you knew. You knew that no matter what, Snow knows everything about the Victors. Acting like the two of you weren’t a thing would never fool him. It never did in five years.

“Not far from mine too,” he adds. Himself had a lot of things going on inside his head. He had every right to turn completely and utterly crazy. Maybe he didn’t only thanks to you and Mags. Sometimes, you thought that it would be easier to see him turn out of his mind rather than seeing him endure day after day the madness he has to go through. 

“I know, Finnick, I know,” you whisper sadly. Acknowledging it was bitter than everything else. Suddenly, you don’t know if your touch is the same as Finnick endures when being sold to the Capitol. What if it did ? What if you didn’t realize, but the way you touched him made him remember how these women did since he was 14 ? Disgust is written all over your face. Disgusts for the Capitol, for the people that bought his body, and disgusts for yourself. One of the reasons why you never dared to cross any line with Finnick, was exactly this problem. Because you always thought that maybe you weren’t better than these women.

You shift on the mattress, taking off your hand off his torso, feeling like your fingers were burning his skin. Finnick directly senses the atmosphere changing and your reluctance to stay physically close to him. Of course, he knew why.

“Y/n…” he whispers your name, trying to bring you back to him. But he knew he couldn’t change your mind whenever you spiraled into these guilt tripping thoughts.

“Goodnight, Finnick,” you end up saying as you turn your back to him. He doesn’t answer, simply staring at your form in the darkness of the night.

Finnick thinks that if he wasn’t the toy of the Capitol, maybe he would have a chance to experience normal intimacy with the woman he loved. Not tonight, and surely not tomorrow. Nonetheless, he kisses your shoulders before you fall asleep.

When will he be free ? 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Decorated in lavish uncomfortable clothes, layers of makeup on your face, accessories that were designed to remind of district 4. Here you were at an extravagant party. The Capitol invited the Victors of your district, all of them, for a celebration. They always celebrated something, mostly uninteresting things that didn’t deserve such waste of money and food. It’s not like you could refuse. The reason for the presence of the Victors was simply to be like pretty bags made to decorate its owner. In this metaphor, the owners were obviously the Capitol citizens present at the party. Thankfully, they didn’t want to have a broken bag like you as their fashion decoration. Who would want to talk and spend time with the crazy woman who won the 70th Hunger Game anyways ? Nobody. At least, you remained unbothered, with the nice company of Mags that was as excluded as you were. 

“Should we get something else to eat, Mags ?” you ask the old lady that reminded you of your late grandmother. She answers in her gibberish language and grabs your hand to make you follow her towards the buffet full of extravagant dishes. 

You laugh slightly and take the opportunity to eat the savory food the Capitol had to offer. Meanwhile, as you put as many slices of cakes in your mouth, you look around to spot your people. More importantly, Finnick. Here he was, surrounded by women fawning over him and showing interest in spending a night with him. Laughs, smiles, flirty stares and bold moves. The moment one of them caressed his naked torso, you felt like throwing up and wished you could jump on her and snatch her bird shaped wig. Will he have to go with one of them again tonight ? It’s not like he could really say no. He simply chuckles at the gesture and does his typical charming grin. But you knew him better. It was all an act. 

In the middle of winter, you wondered how Finnick didn’t freeze to death. His stylist, once again, put as little tissue as they could to make the attractive man the ultimate object of desire for the greedy eyes that surrounded him. It made you sick to the stomach, yet you didn’t say anything. It’s not like you could do something. You weren’t supposed to show deep care or worry for him. For the Capitol, the two of you were just friends. But if rumors started to arise about the both of you dating each other, what could happen ? Would you be forced to sell your body as well as Finnick’s ? What if they had the fantasy of having both of you at the same time ? If they did, you couldn’t refuse. Or else, Snow wouldn’t hesitate to threaten the two of you. Just like he did to Johanna.

Mags, sensing your worry, gently pats your shoulder.

“I know, I can’t do anything. I just… want this party to be over as quickly as possible,” you whisper so only she could hear you. Even if nobody really paid attention to the both of you, being careful was never something to dismiss. One wrong word, and it was over.

Mags sighs with a saddened smile. But then, she nudges you slightly to make you look towards Finnick again. A man in extravagant clothes, blondish almost white hair, and with a malicious aura around him approached your secret lover. It didn’t take you long to realize who that person was. Plutarch Heavensbee. The new Head Gamemaker for the approaching Quarter Quell.

Intrigued, you look at him talking to Finnick. A handshake, a big laugh, and he shows to your lover what seemed like a watch around his wrist. Confusion is written all over your face when Finnick follows the man away from prying eyes. Panic starts to rise and you instinctively try to follow them, worried that something will happen. Immediately, you feel a hand on your arm to stop you from stepping towards the two. Mags shakes her head, showing you to not start what you were about to do.

“Why is he following him ? Do you think Heavensbee wants to… you know ? I just want to make sure he is okay,” you retort with a shaky voice and clear evidence of paranoia in your eyes. The moment you turned around to see where the two men went, they disappeared from your sight. You frequently look around, but Mags takes your face in her old wrinkled hands and tells you that everything is alright.

You nod, calming down and decide to eat more food to keep your mind occupied by something else rather than whatever was happening behind closed doors. Some minutes passed, where you kept close to Mags while looking at the other Victors of your district stuck with the Capitol men and women. Just by gazing at it, you felt how exhausting these social interactions were. 

When curiosity rises back, you decide to go look for Finnick. Because what was taking him so long if he wasn’t forced to sell his body for secrets ? Without waiting for Mags, you walk away and start to wander around the social gathering. Fish like wigs, skin colors in rainbow fashion, outstanding clothes with feathers, jewels. That’s the only thing your eyes can detect in this atrocious sea of people. If you continue like that, you will soon be lost.

Annoyed, you turn around in one last attempt to find him, when suddenly you almost bump into someone.

“Look out where you are going, honey. You might get lost,” says the cheeky voice of the blond. You lift your head and directly feel yourself calming down once you are facing the man that you so desperately searched.

“I was looking for you,” you explain. Finnick smiles as he gazes around the area, sliding his arm on your waist to invite you to walk back with him.

“I’m here now. Let’s go back to Mags and call it a day,” he simply answers. Suddenly, you feel a fleeting kiss on your forehead. A reassuring gesture to show that everything was alright. It was quick, volatile, to make sure that nobody else noticed it.

“What were you doing with Heavensbee ? Isn’t he the new Head Gamesmaker ?”

“He was talking about the upcoming announcement of the Quarter Quell, stuff like that,” Finnick said nonchalantly in a voice that showed no nervousness nor that something was wrong. As he said, everything was fine. With confidence, he gives you his usual toothy grin.

“Why did he need to talk with you in private ?”

“To keep it a surprise for the Capitol citizens. What if they heard our conversation ? You wouldn’t want them to have their fun spoiled, right ?” he replies with irony at his last sentence, winking at you. You roll your eyes.

“Right…” you repeat with bitterness. Their so-called fun was your biggest nightmare.

You didn’t know why, but that night, when returning back to your district, Finnick seemed lost in thoughts. As if his mind was elsewhere. You knew something was definitely going south when you saw him in the middle of the night tying and untying a knot with a rope he always kept with him. He only stopped when his fingers started to bleed. Finnick thought you were asleep. You weren’t, and you saw it all.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

The end of winter. In this month of April, the weather got better. Going to swim was a more pleasant moment to share with the man that you love. The water wasn’t as cold as before, much to the liking of Finnick. Even if this man could easily jump into freezing waves, being content as long as he could fish, he wouldn’t say no to warmer water. Yet, it still happened that there were some days without the warmth of the sun. When the clouds hidden its shine. When rain and storms made you locked inside the house, looking at the window and seeing from the comfort of your living room, how much the sea was going wild with anger. Like a Sea God claiming what was his. Sometimes you had to practically tie Finnick to a chair to make sure he won’t stubbornly go to the beach. 

You both never talked again about his conversation with Heavensbee. Maybe it was for the best. Some things were meant to be kept a secret. That’s why, on the contrary, Finnick made people pay him with secrets.

On this chilly day, Finnick woke up earlier than you did. The bed was cold and the seagulls were screaming their usual music outside your window. He must have left the room quite early in the morning. When you went downstairs, Mags wasn’t here as well. Probably in her own Victor’s house. The coldness of the wind strikes your face the moment you step outside. If Finnick wasn’t inside, then that only meant one thing. The sea.

You wrap your lover’s jacket around your shoulders and walk on the sand of the beach. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, a storm was brewing at the horizon. Walking faster, you notice blond hair at your left, meters away. Finnick was sitting on a rock, looking at the strong waves splashing against the shore. His hands were occupied with tying and untying a knot. Again. You sigh.

“What’s on your mind ?” you ask as you appear behind him. He snaps out of his thoughts and the knot falls on the sand. His strong arm brings you towards his torso and his lips find yours immediately. Startled, you let out a small sound of surprise.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mutters against your mouth. Softly, you sit on his lap and caress his jaw, then his lips. His eyes meet yours. You noticed how heavy they looked this morning. His hair was disheveled as well. Like a gentle breeze, you kiss his eyelids.

“Nightmares ?”

“Thinking about the Games. President Snow announces the Quarter Quell today,” he replies as he lets his finger reach your hair and caresses it to somewhat ease his tormented mind.

“Right. I forgot. It’s earlier than usual, isn’t it ?” you wonder. He nods without answering anything, simply focusing on caressing the top of your head. Each stroke appeased his troubled thinking. No matter how good he was at masking his inner demons, Finnick was still prone to break one day. You being his anchor was vital for him. As well as him being yours.

“What will happen this time ? Last Quarter Quell had the double of tributes. I can’t see myself being the mentor of twice the number of kids, and mourning them twice as well. I hope this year will not be a living nightmare,” you sigh saying that, biting your lower lip. That was stupid to say. Every Hunger Games was a living nightmare.

“Let’s not think about it for now. We still have some time before facing the news. Okay ?” he stops you from saying more by bringing your face closer to his. The green of his eyes reminds you that you should just focus on him right now. It was the only thing keeping you safe in this damned world.

Tenderly, his mouth finds yours. Your eyes flutter shut when you answer the kiss. His hands bring you closer, gripping your waist like a lifeline. Afraid that if he dared to let go, you would disappear forever. He could never let that happen. The softness of your fingers brush his cheeks, before sliding on his nape. You feel him shiver, his skin getting sensitive at your touch. Your chest gets glued to his, to the point that it’s almost like you could feel his heart beat getting incredibly quicker. You breathe, now his tongue caresses yours. You shift on his lap and without realizing, let out what seemed like a moan. The kiss gets deeper, something growing in your stomach. An emotion that you usually never allowed to get to you. Not with him.

The moment things take an unexpected heated turn, you directly stop the kiss. Finnick looks into your eyes, in a way that yourself couldn’t even describe. Did he not like it ? Was your kiss too much ? Were you too greedy ? What if he saw you now as the people that used him ? The way he looked at you didn’t help, it was impossible to guess what was happening inside his head.

“We should get back inside, or else you’ll catch a cold,” you end up announcing as you stand up from his lap. 

Finnick follows you in a sigh, before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Y/n, you know I’m fine, right ? I mean, with us getting intimate,” he suddenly says more seriously. He is gazing at you from the corner of his eyes, and a tension arises the moment the both of you enter his house from the back door that leads to the beach. 

“Are you really ?” you retort. You had the audacity to question the veracity of his words, because you knew him for five years, and noticed every little thing about him for said five years. 

One day, on a summer evening, the two of you kissed for the first time. It occurred one year and a half after you won your games. At this time, you didn’t know how bad Finnick's past was. Only what he showed to people, and from what you could hear thanks to the gossiping around the district.

In the heated weather, after swimming for hours in the sea, the two of you laid on the warm sand. Alone, with all the privacy he needed to allow himself to act like the real Finnick, and to show his true feelings. He was the one that found your lips first. It was unexpected. Soon, after getting accustomed to the feeling of kissing someone, things got slightly more bold.

When your hand caressed down his torso while you were on top of his body, he had a sudden reaction that surprised you. The type of reaction that made him jolt from your touch, as if your fingers just forever burned him. Surprised, you saw for the first time discomfort in his eyes. His whole persona that he had when being the golden boy of Panem, crumbled all together in this moment. Disgust. Even if it lasted a second, disgust was seen in his green eyes. 

At this moment, you knew. And you never forgave yourself, even if it wasn’t actually your fault. Even if Finnick told you multiple times he wasn’t disgusted by you or by your touch. It simply was a memory, an unfortunate memory that came back to this mind at the wrong time. But how could you forget ? When it happened, what you saw in front of you was just a fourteen boy being scared at what was occurring to him. You promised yourself to never bring such trauma back to his face. Never again.

“Y/n, we already talked about this. I know you will never be like the Capitol citizens that bought me. I know you will never force yourself onto me. I know you love me and respect me,” he says as the both of you are now inside the warmth of the house. He stands in front of you, hands landing on your shoulders and gripping them to force you to ground yourself in what he was explaining. 

“I would hate it if I accidently triggered you again. I can’t allow this,” you shake your head, gazing everywhere but at his eyes. 

“You have to understand that even if you do, it’s only prone to happen. But I’m a grown man, I can handle it,” he gets closer when insisting on his words. His grip gets slightly tighter, but not enough to be uncomfortable. 

“Finnick… I just want to avoid letting it happen at all costs,” you whisper when you finally look back at him. His stare is so intense that you are locked in place, unable to look away. Like a trap. 

“Listen to me. You can’t. But I trust you, and I love you, and we’ll go through this together. I have the right to know what it feels like to be intimate with someone I love. Me too, I want to be able to experience what it feels like to have normal and consensual sex. What happened to me and what is still going on in my life, shouldn’t stop me from knowing what I deserve to know.”

You feel like your throat is sinking to your stomach. Realizing that because of your fear, you didn’t allow him to properly heal in your company. You suck up a distorted breath, and your knees almost falter. 

“You’re right… Fuck, I’m just being selfish. I’m sorry," you whisper, taking your face in your hands. His arms roll around you, big hands caressing your back. You are now pressed against his cold skin, due to the freezing wind of the sea. His cheek falls on the top of your head, while your nose brushes against his neck. Seeking comfort in this reassuring embrace. 

“No, you’re just looking out for me. I appreciate it, really. But I want you. I desire you. So stop guilting yourself for something you can’t control,” he says in a soft whisper. Your fingers curl around his blade shoulders, closing your eyes. He was right. It’s not something you can control. 

Maybe it was time to go through this. To step on the line. 

When you are about to answer, Mags opens the door, interrupting your conversation. You detach yourself from each other.

“Maybe next time,” you whisper to him. Finnick looks slightly disappointed to be interrupted but directly goes to Mags to listen to what she had to say. His smile drops the moment he nods, and beckons you to come with him.

“The Quarter Quell is going to be announced. Let’s go to the central place of the district. Apparently they want us to be there.”

Barely minutes after what Finnick said, the three of you are walking in the sea of people gathering around the gigantic screen plastered in the middle of the square, next to the city hall. Dread is washing over you. People are anxious. Finnick holds your hand, not even once letting it go. He allows himself to do it. Everyone is focused on the screen, nobody is looking at the two of you. 

The anthem plays, President Snow takes the stage. He’s followed by a young boy dressed in a white suit, holding a simple wooden box. The anthem ends, and President Snow begins to speak, to remind everyone all of the Dark Days from which the Hunger Games were born. He goes on to tell what happened in the previous Quarter Quells.

“On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it.” You swallow hard. Finnick squeezes your fingers. He searches for his rope inside his pocket. With his free hand, he plays with it. You look at it from the corner of your eye. Mags gently caress his shoulder. Yet, it doesn’t seem to calm him down. 

“On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes,” the president continues.

Haymitch Abernathy. The name of this Victor appears in your mind. Something feels wrong. With the rebels, there is no way the third Quarter Quell will not have consequences.

“And now we honor our third Quarter Quell,” says the president. The little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. We can see the tidy, upright rows of yellowed envelopes. Whoever devised the Quarter Quell system had prepared for centuries of Hunger Games. The president removes an envelope clearly marked with a 75. He runs his finger under the flap and pulls out a small square of paper. Without hesitation, he reads.

“On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

You throw up right at your feet.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

“I can’t believe it,” was your first sentence when you were back inside Finnick’s house. After throwing up, walking back home like a lifeless corpse, you threw up again whatever was left in your stomach in the bathroom. It wasn’t pretty. Angrily rinsing your mouth, you were left with news that seemed worse than president Snow announcing the Quarter Quell.

“Honey, calm down…” tries to say your lover when grabbing your hand softly. You scream, out of your mind, and push him away as strongly as you could. Finnick stumbles against the sink but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t get angry, doesn’t try to force his words onto you.

That was a nightmare. How could this be possible ? The illusion of freedom that you had was once again ripped from your grasp. You curl on the floor, hot tears of pure rage towards the Capitol streaming down your face. In the midst of doubt and uncertainty, you even started to hatefully accuse the rebels. Now, because of them, and you were sure that it wasn’t a coincidence, the Quarter Quell was basically sending you back to hell. It’s not like you were sure that at the reaping your name will be taken. But you had the feeling that the Arena was waiting for you.

Finnick squats down in front of you, and gives you his rope. Through your tears, you take it and start to tie and untie it with shaky hands. Again. Tie. Untie. Your fingers start to bleed. Tie. Untie. Again. Tie. Untie.

You tried to calm down. The rebels weren’t at fault. They weren’t your enemies. They had the guts that you didn’t have. The real enemy was the Capitol. The real enemy was President Snow. You take a deep breath and start to realize what you just did. You pushed Finnick away, and you were sure that he surely hurt himself against the sink. You even started to blame innocent people that only wanted their freedom back. 

“I’m going crazy,” you whisper, “I’m going fucking crazy !”

“I feel like I’m going nuts too, but y/n, look at me and listen to me,” he says in a gentle voice by staying in front of your curled form. Him squatting down was to not seem intimidating, but to ease your nerves and make you feel like you are equally standing on the same emotional step as him.

“How can I trust you, Finnick ? How can I trust you when you knew about the Quarter Quell, about the rebels, about district 13, but never thought of telling me about it !” you start to say in a trembling voice before snapping. Finnick keeps his green eyes locked on yours. This time he takes your bruised hands from tying and untying the knot and forces you to keep holding his fingers. He sighs.

“With what Plutarch Heavensbee told me months ago, I had to make sure that he was reliable and wasn’t lying. It’s for that reason that I waited to see how the Quarter Quell would play out before telling you about this !”

“But you knew, and you didn’t tell me !!! Even if what Plutarch told you was a lie, you could have at least trust me ! I thought we shared everything together, for damn sake !” you exclaim in betrayal.

“Yeah ? And risk everything ? Risk your safety ? What if it all was a trap ? You think I completely trust Heavensbee ? I don’t. But one thing is sure, the rebels are getting revolted. The Capitol is trying to delete Katniss Everdeen because she is the face of the Rebellion. And that is what will happen during the 75th Hunger Games. She is the only female tribute. To be able to give hope to the rebels, we have to keep her alive in the Arena,” he says seriously, his voice deep, showing no hesitance. Not even a second. Finnick thought about it for months, and today he had his confirmation. He couldn’t back down. 

You don’t say anything, understanding the depth of his words. Finnick was right, they definitely will try to kill Katniss to destroy all the hopes of the rebels. And by looking at it, your lover was one of them. You swallow your saliva. That meant only one thing. One thing that made your stomach twitch in pain.

“So you are saying that if you are reaped, you’ll protect her even if that means you’ll die ?” you whisper in a broken voice. With his left hand, he cups your cheek. The right one stays on your palm, squeezing it. Emotions were swirling inside his heart, and you saw it all just by the look he gave you. Deep. Full of sadness, but with unshakeable certainty. 

“I’ll do anything to destroy the Capitol. If what Plutarch said is true, district 13 is preparing for it. If it means it will lead to our freedom and the death of this damn snake, then I’ll gladly die in the Arena protecting the Mockingjay,” he announces, unwavering. You look down at the floor. One tear falls on the tiles of the bathroom, before you swallow your sadness and raise back your head with military determination. 

“If you are reaped, I’ll volunteer.”

Finnick looks at you as if you said the craziest thing you could ever say in your entire life.

“Y/n, you wouldn’t. The last thing I want is for the person that I love the most to go back in the Arena and die. I can’t lose you,” he answers, raising his voice slightly. The mere thought of you sacrificing yourself for the sake of staying by his side made him angry. It made him angry because he would do the exact same thing for you, and it pained him more than anything to see how much you loved him to the point of going against your biggest fear just for him.

“And you think I’ll watch you die ? You think I’ll let you sacrifice yourself alone ? I will be the one losing you ! I thought you knew me better, Finnick…” you laugh bitterly. 

“I will never let you do such a thing if that happens, y/n ! Never. That is crazy for you to say, when you know how much the Hunger Games traumatized you ! I can’t let you suffer more just to follow me in this suicide quest !” he snaps. Finnick almost never raised his voice at you. The only time he did was when he was your mentor. Back then, you ended up saying something reckless that could have led you to die even before the games started. 

You grab his face in between your hands and look at him with equal anger. “Yes I am crazy ! And you have no right to tell me what to do ! If you go to the games, I will come with you ! I won’t let you die alone ! If you die, I die with you. Do you understand what I am saying ?! Because my biggest fear is not the Hunger Games, but watching you die while I can’t do anything about it !” you scream, your voice wavering at your last sentence before breaking in a sob.

Finnick looks at you with his eyes wide open. Tears stream down his face and he directly brings you inside his arms, snuggling you against his chest. His nose gets in the crook of your neck, squeezing you as close as he could to be sure you were there, with him, and that you won’t go away. You bring your fingers against his back, sobbing painfully. This was pure chaos. And you both were trapped inside of it. Everyone was.

The door of the bathroom cracks. Mags enters silently and joins the hug. She heard all the conversation, it broke her to see the two of you like this. The both of you bring her closer, her comforting hands caressing the both of your heads. Like a mother would do to her children. In her eyes, the two of you were. She was the strongest person you ever met, and you will forever have deep love and respect for her. After all, Mags have seen the rise of the Hunger Games, and now what seemed like its fall. 

Will it lead to your freedom, or your doom ?

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

In the quietness of the bathroom, once all the emotions got settled down, you were busy treating Finnick’s back. Earlier, when pushing him away, he scratched himself against the sink. You felt horribly guilty, and even if your lover insisted that it was okay and that you didn’t need to worry, you insisted multiple times to let you treat the small wound. No matter how tiny it was, it still was your fault and it deserved treatment.

Thankfully, being Victors and from one of the wealthiest districts, meant you had some emergency tools in an infirmary box. Something ordinary people didn’t have the chance to have at home. But it’s not like it was much. Just the bare minimum to treat small wounds. Nothing else, nothing more. 

“Does it hurt ?” you asked as you gently pressed some liquid on his scratch, right at his hip. His shirt was off, Finnick leaning against the sink. In the dim lighting, the atmosphere was calm. Casting a warm glow on his back. 

“Barely,” he replies, keeping his gaze on your every move. With carefulness, you continue to gently treat the wound. It did bleed a bit earlier, which made you panic and drown in pure guilt. But Finnick directly brushed it off as nothing, comparing it to the typical bruises he would get when handling boats or fishing. 

“Good. Now, maybe don’t sleep on this side tonight. Let it properly heal for some days,” you explain as you put back the cotton pad inside the trash can. Finnick smirks. 

“Well, look at you. Being more thoughtful than any doctor I had in the Capitol,” he says playfully. 

“That’s not very hard to be,” you answer sarcastically as you roll your eyes. His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you in between his legs. Your chest, glued to his. Your hands, on his bicep and torso. 

“You’re right, honey. I'd prefer anytime for you to treat me if I got hurt, rather than anybody else," he mused, tilting his head to the side. You chuckle and shake your head softly.

“You know I don’t have the qualifications for that."

“I still know I can rely on you, including in the Arena,” he says more softly, looking right back at your face with a hint of seriousness. Something you couldn't escape. Your smile fades. 

The Arena…. Engrossed in the conversation, you forgot about the Quarter Quell, about the possibility of going back to the Hunger Games, of protecting the Mocking Jay, of the rebels, of District 13, and all the upcoming chaos. You sigh in defeat, fingers digging into his flesh, not enough to hurt, just to emphasize your distress. 

“I’m sorry for my outburst. You didn’t deserve to have me screaming at you like that,” you whisper while leaning your forehead against his chest. You bite your lower lip, looking down at the floor in shame. His hand is on your head, gently caressing your hair to calmly sooth you. 

“Honey, you already said sorry at least ten times. I assure you, I’m fine and clearly not mad at you for such a thing.”

“When was the last time you got mad at me ?” you ask, raising your head slightly, just enough to have a glimpse of his serious gaze. 

“1 hour ago when you said you would volunteer if I got reaped.”

“Hey, we both agreed on that-” you start to answer with defensiveness before he cuts your mid-sentence. 

“I know, I know. But you know that anything involving you risking your life is making me go crazy,” he replies more firmly. “We both are.” Silence. His fingers caress your cheek, his lips meet yours tenderly. Your eyes flutter shut. His voice rings in your ear, as he whispers “look at us being doomed lovers. What a shame I can’t show to the world how much I love you.”

You shiver at his breath tickling your neck. His mouth presses against your cheek this time. 

“Maybe one day we will be free enough to love each other without fearing anything.” Saying this was like a dagger in your heart. Because if the both of you went to the 75th Hunger Games, it meant dying for the sake of the rebellion by protecting Katniss Everdeen. There would be no freedom in loving Finnick Odair. 

“Maybe one day,” he ends up saying, finishing the conversation. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Laughter covers the singing of the seagulls. Splashes of water, wet hair sticking to the skin, sun high in the sky. It felt like a short moment of Heaven. Away from the reaping, from the Games, from the Capitol, from President Snow. Just you and him. 

One of the things you were grateful for, is that Victor's house led to a square of privacy on the beach. Nobody knew about the two of you spending time together and swimming in the salty water for hours, for all the days that allowed it. Loving him seemed free. Almost. 

“Finnick, faster !” you scream with joy as you sit on the top of his back, strong arms supporting your weight and running through the waves. Soon, the two of you are inside the sea. The moment your lover brings you back to the surface, you splash him playfully. 

“Oh oh… You’re not getting away from this,” he teases menacingly as he lunges towards you. In a yelp, you attempt to escape. Immediately after, his hands grip your waist and your back collides against his chest. Water is splashed on your face and you laugh. 

“Ok, you won !” you exclaim in defeat, feeling his grin against your neck when he kissed it. 

“You’re so salty. Should I cook you for dinner ? I’m sure you will be very tasty,” he jokes, fingers digging in your stomach and teeth grazing your ear. You nudge him playfully.

“I don’t think Mags would be very happy to eat me for dinner.”

“Personally, I would be happy to,” he retorts as he bites your shoulder and your giggle echoes right after. A big smile is plastered on his face, dimples and eyes half lidded. You look at him, and can’t help but be in awe with this man. This man that was yours. 

Minutes later, the two of you are drying on the sand. Droplets of water fall down his skin, while you lay your head on his laps, looking at them rolling down, and down, and down…

“Focus on the knot, y/n,” he snaps you out of your reverie. Your hands were originally busy untying the ropes around your legs, but you got distracted and laid down on his thighs. 

Again, like every month, you had your little ritual of training you to free you from ropes to overcome your trauma from your games, that was practically healed now. But, this month, it was special. It was the last time you would have to face such a moment with Finnick after years of doing it. Because next month, there will be the reaping. Next month, your chance of going back to the Hunger Games is high. Next month, your life could end right there. 

“I got distracted,” you answer as you sit back up and get back to your business, sighing softly to stabilize your thoughts and mind.

“I know I can be distracting, honey,” he mused as he hugged you from behind, gentle hands brushing your arms as he pampered kisses on your cheek. You swallow your saliva, melting in his touch. 

“I’m just a woman, Odair,” you answer in a teasing way which only makes him have a little laugh, humming as he watches you perform for the last time this ritual in between the two of you. 

It was easy. This knot was easy. Yet, you took long enough to untie it. Maybe you didn’t want this moment to end. Because once it does, it would forever mean that it was the last. Finnick’s hands slide on your wrists, palms englobing yours and fingers caressing your skin.

“Let’s do it together,” he murmurs no louder than a whisper. You nod, feeling emotional. The both of you, in sync, untie the knot step by step. His grip is steady on yours, his touch warm and reassuring. His soothing breath on the crook of your neck calms you down. 

Untying it, untying it, untying it, and… you were free of the rope. It falls on the sand. You don’t say anything. Silence stretches, Finnick’s digits intertwining with yours. He squeezes your hand and takes a deep breath. 

“Congratulations. You did it,” he announces in a voice that twists your heart painfully. 

Later that day, after spending the afternoon and evening with Mags going around the District to shop for necessities, talk to people and then all cook dinner together, you sit at the edge of the bed. The sun is set. The night is calm, compared to your inner turmoil. 

Finnick comes back from his shower, only wearing pants as the weather was too hot to keep more tissue on his skin. His wet hair gets dried with a towel, rubbing it nonchalantly and messing it at the same time. While he walks inside the room, he leans against the door and looks at you for a good minute. 

“What are you thinking about, y/n ?” he asks. The glow of the moon illuminates his tanned skin, making it shine, the last droplets of water acting like stars. You stare at him.

“We don’t have much time left before the reaping. I thought about… all the things I wanted to do with you,” you answer, sighing deeply, fidgeting before looking at the window. 

“We’ll do them all. Just tell me whatever you wish,” his voice echoes behind you. He sits next to you, the mattress softly collapsing under his weight. His hand on your shoulder brings you back to the present moment. 

“Some of them are impossible. Getting married is off the list. Starting a family is just a dream at this point, nothing more,” you admit in defeat.

"Y/n…” he whispers your name, taking your hands.

“But, we can do other things before it’s too late.”

As you say this, you turn towards him and kiss him gently. Instantly, Finnick answers automatically the kiss with need. At first, it’s sweet. Lingering. Some seconds pass, and it becomes hungrier, more passionate. He slowly brings you under him, your back against the bed. As he towers over you, one arm next to your face to support his weight, and the other gripping your waist, you feel a pool of warmth in your lower stomach. Your thighs shift, leaving him enough space to get in between them. His lips move against yours with more desire. After a while, he breaks the kiss, catching back his breath and staring at you laying underneath him. He takes a second to admire you, lost in thought. 

“Are you sure ?” he suddenly asks. You chuckle lightly in understanding.

“Finnick, I should be the one asking you this. Are you sure ? I want you to be comfortable, doing nothing that goes against your boundaries. Please, I am worried about doing something wrong,” you reply, taking his face in between your hands with carefulness, scared to break him even though he acted unbreakable. Because he had to. He was forced to act unbreakable, because if he didn’t, the Capitol would destroy him completely. Every Victor had to, actually. The ones that didn’t already lost their mind long ago. You would have if Finnick and Mags weren’t here for you.  

“I trust you, honey. We'll go slow. I promise that if something makes me uncomfortable, I’ll tell you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead. You nod, deciding to let him be the one to take the lead. Like this, you would be sure that he could go at his own pace and directly stop if he felt like it wasn’t right. 

“You can trust me, Finnick,” you answer before his lips meet yours again.

His hands explore more intimately your body. You shiver, your skin burning his touch. Softly, he takes off your night gown. Revealing at first your undergarment, then centimeter by centimeter your naked chest. His eyes are on your body, discovering this part of you he only saw through clothes. You smile at him lovingly, yet a bit shy to be seen for the first time. 

His lips trail down your cheek, to your neck, to your collarbone. Finnick sadly knew what he was doing, but it was his first time making love, his first time being able to enjoy something so intimate, his first time not feeling forced to do anything. As his mouth reaches your breast, he looks first into your eyes, waiting for something, your consent and your own reassurance that he was doing okay.

“I love you,” were the simple words you murmured. He smiles, gentle fingers caressing your nipples to test the waters, touching you there for the first time. It was soft, warm. Then, he uses his mouth to please you. This foreign sensation was happily welcomed, both for you and for him. 

As he goes down, he hesitates for a moment.

“Can I ?” he asks, which you answer by a caress on his cheek. He takes off your panties, revealing your most intimate part to him. In the midst of the moment, you were more preoccupied by his reaction rather than your own embarrassment to be completely bare in front of him. Yet, seeing him open wider his eyes in awe, your heart swells at how much love and happiness you had to have the chance to share this moment with him.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs while kissing your thigh by bringing it towards his shoulder. 

He goes back to your mouth, settling in between your legs. Then, inch by inch, while his mouth devours yours with passion, his fingers linger on your stomach. You jolt slightly, embracing his touch as it goes towards your private parts. It was your first time being touched by someone else, and coming from the person you loved the most in the whole world was a blessing for you. You only knew your own touch, but Finnick’s one, sensing his pure adoration for you, made you prefer his immediately.

“Don’t force yourself,” you whisper against his lips when you notice his hesitation to go further. You wouldn’t mind if it stopped there, as you were already content with how things were.

“I’m not. I want this. Do you ?” he replied, wanting to prove to you that he was capable, and that his need to become one with you was stronger than his fear.

“Yes I do. Remember, you can stop when you want,” you repeat to be sure he didn’t forget these important words. He smiles, widely, on cloud nine to have an angel like you caring so much for his wellbeing.

“I know, sweetheart. I know," he answers before kissing your neck, grounding himself on your scent as he finally caresses you. At first, it’s slow, being cautious to your needs. He can’t believe he is finally doing it, finally crossing that line that was there for too long.

When he finally understands how your body works, he brings more and more pleasurable moans from your mouth. Carefully, to not hurt you, he starts to slide one digit. You grip your fingers to his shoulders, he doesn’t flinch. He waits for you to be comfortable enough to slide another finger. Thankfully, what seemed like slight discomfort at first, transforms to pleasure as you get used to the feeling of his fingers.

His eyes are on you every second, not missing a beat of your every reaction. He is so in love with you. When you reach your high, it’s intense, passionate, a first. He looks at you tenderly, kissing your lips and praising your patience. Truthfully, you should be the one praising him.

Softly, legs still shaky, you sit back up and with carefulness start to caress his shoulders, then torso. He lets you touch him, being aware of his own reactions. When you caress his legs, he swallows. You were about to put away your hand, scared you might touch him wrongly, but he grabs it and prevents you from backing away, as well as him backing away.

“Honey, don’t stop. I’m fine,” he says seriously, looking right at your eyes to convey the truth of his words.

“If you prefer, you can take off your pants by yourself,” you propose.

“No, I���m okay. You can do it,” he says. You nod, and carefully unbutton his pants. When your fingers brush against his intimate parts, he shivers, but bites his lip and lets you continue.

With words of reassurance, love and carefulness, the both of you take your time. The moment Finnick is on top of you, as naked and vulnerable as you, you embrace him with all your might. You knew it would hurt, but what you were more concerned about was him. His fingers intertwined with yours, heavy breath on your skin, face buried in your neck. As he enters inch by inch, thumb caressing your palm to ease you, you try to adjust. It did hurt.

But you relax, and relax, and relax. His green eyes are like a forest where you get lost, anchoring you into the moment. Suddenly, tears start to accumulate at the border of his eyes. And then, a big fat one rolls down his cheek. Panic rises, and you directly look at him worried.

“Finnick, are you-” you start to say.

“Y/n, I love you so damn much. I’m just so happy, very happy. I don’t know if you can understand how I feel right now. I love you, I love you, I love you…” he whispers these three words like a mantra, and relief washes over you. Proud of him, tears swell as well, and you kiss him with fervor.

“I love you too,” you reply. Soon after, both of your bodies are in sync. Exploring pleasure together, bodies colliding, lips crashing, moans echoing in the room, warmth and sweat tainting your skin with love bites and kisses.

In this moment full of intimacy, Finnick feels like he finally has control of his body. Something that got stolen by the Capitol. Right now, in this cocoon, he was just a man. A man in love sharing a moment with the person he cherished the most. He wasn’t the teenager that was scared anymore. Even if that part of him would forever be inside of him, now he had the chance to become someone else. Someone sharing pleasure with you, consensual pleasure. 

He wishes this moment could last forever. To get lost in your arms, in the feeling of pure ecstasy. 

The reaping was approaching, and the both of you would make sure to enjoy every moment of peace before death would come at your door.

Chapter 2 is out !

[maeedrg]

Waiter, a cup of kisses !

ᯓ★

Synopsis : In which Satoru kisses you for the first time, his best friend, and you both can’t seem to stop now.

Words count : 3k.

Warnings : Pure fluff, crack, both of them like to bully each other, reader is mentioned fem once, mention of boobs.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : Omg I’m back from the dead guys ! College is time consuming. It’s a small fanfic because I intend on writing soon a quite big one. But we’ll talk about it later because I will need your opinion on something.

｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡⋆✧⋆˚｡｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡

When Satoru kissed you for the first time, it was in the most “randomly out of nowhere” way possible. Like he would say.

Being physically close to him, sometimes crossing a blurry line, wasn’t something actually bizarre in your relationship with him. Accustomed to having Satoru, or you, dancing on this blurry tango of an unlabeled relationship, you at first didn’t think much of it. He was teasing, wanting to taunt you. Exactly like you did yesterday, and how he did the day before, and you the day even before. Yeah, a kiss meant nothing. After all, why do people care so much about lips touching each other ? You didn’t with him.

Yet, when he did, you still had a confused face. At first you were busy with baking the cookies he begged you to prepare this morning. He even licked your cheek when you accidently put chocolate on your skin. Gross ? He didn’t know this word. But then, the second right after, he chastly kissed your lips. As if it was the natural order of things. First licking your cheek, then kissing you. 

"Hmm ?" you hummed surprised. Looking at him with a confused expression only made the white haired man shrug. He went back to form the cookie dough in his large hands like nothing happened.

"What ?" he asked.

"What was that ?" you insisted, raising an eyebrow. You weren’t mad or anything. Just intrigued.

"What was what ?" he answered, acting dumb. Well, he didn’t need to act to be dumb. But you kept that to yourself. You exhale through your nose and nudge him. He almost makes the cookie fall. Thankfully, he caught it in time.

"Satoru…" you say through your teeth to show him that you weren’t playing around and wanted him to answer. A real answer.

"A kiss ?" he simply explained. As if you actually were the dumb one here, not him. Bloody hell. He could be annoying when he started to act like this.

"No shit Sherlock," you groan. Satoru glances at your irritated facial expression, which results in only making him chuckle. His dimples embellish his cheeks and you end up rolling your eyes playfully.

"Well, I wasn’t expecting you to understand, was I Watson ?" he comes back with this arrogant voice of his. You snort, but wisely decide to not follow this little game of his and concentrate on finishing this baking session. It’s already been one hour that you both were at it, only because of your bickering.

 Whatever. It was just a kiss.

A kiss that felt good, actually. Maybe you wanted it to happen again. Why not ? After all, you would simply get back at him.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Barely some hours later, your little sleepover with your best friend came to an end. It was time to sleep, even though whenever you said that, you both would start to talk and giggle in the darkness of the night like kids scared to get caught by their parents for not sleeping in time. After some endless laughing and chatting, you finally fell asleep at the poor expense of Satoru that ached to talk more to you. He knew he had to rest. Tomorrow will be a big day at work. Missions, teaching, missions, meetings with the higher ups, missions, paperwork, and then his possible death due to exhaustion. Not like they would let him die easily. Instead, he decides to gaze at your sleeping form. 

In the middle of the night, Satoru liked to stare at you because of how peaceful the world was at this time. Not in a creepy way or another bizarre staring type. No. He liked to gaze at your pretty face and soft breathing. Because in those short moments of solitude in the chaos of his mind, he wasn’t pretending. He wasn’t pretending to be The Strongest, nor he wasn’t having a semi fake persona that was too loud, too obnoxious, too cheerful and too annoying.

No. He was just Satoru. A simple man that loved his best friend maybe too much. Or his heart might had a lot of free space, and he decided to occupy it mainly by your presence. 

He liked those moments too because your face was at its calmest. He could freely admire your beauty with the softest gaze he ever had, not afraid to show how much he loved you, how much he craved for you. It simply was only him and himself in this situation. 

Softly, the back of his fingers caress your puffy cheek from the pillow. His lips form somewhat in between a pained smile and a cracked smirk of amusement at your funny face. It was something you never knew. Never knew how softhearted he was for you. How gentle he could brush his skin against yours. How devoted his stare was on you, as if you were the mere reflection of the universe. How weak he was for you. But, a weakness was something he couldn’t afford to show. Not this one, not even to you, maybe even less to himself.

He kisses your hand.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

In the morning, Satoru was already whining and being grumpy about the busy day that was awaiting for him. While you come back from the bathroom after brushing your teeth, you pat his back.

"You can do it. No worries. And in between you and me, we both know you will absolutely skip your meeting and your paperwork this evening. Am I right ?"

" ‘Been there, done that," he admits with this stupid grin of his and his insufferable dimples. You chuckle as you go on your tip toes and peck his lips. The kiss was as simple as that. Something fleeting, volatile. A soft press of your lips against his. Just like how he did it yesterday in the afternoon. But Satoru didn’t expect you to take him back on that, resulting in his dumbfounded face while staring at you.

"Be serious for once," you reply and go back to search for your outfit of the day. You ignore him, trying to not crack a laugh. And why not tease him a bit more ? Satoru always changes his clothes in front of you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You quickly got used to it. On the other hand, you never were as comfortable as him to be nude and change like that in front of his eyes. 

Well, all things come to an end. Today is part of one of them.

You take off the pants of your pajamas and switch to the ones you will wear today. Now, your shirt is on the floor, revealing your nude chest. Satoru thought his eyes were playing with him and he accidentally let out an awkward stutter of surprise. You nonchalantly finish putting on clean clothes as you see a glimpse of his red face.

"Hum, nice boobs, lol, ahah," he suddenly says in what is supposed to sound like a laugh while he pats your back in a manly way. You turn around to look at him with your eyebrows raised.

"What the fuck was that ?"

"I don’t know, I panicked !" he exclaims dramatically. Wow, you almost never saw him act like that. It was hard to break down the confident persona of this man. Did you manage to embarrass The Gojo Satoru himself ? You smirk.

"You always change in front of me, can’t I now ?" you ask a rhetorical question.

"Of course you can. I didn’t expect you to do it, like, this morning ?" he defends himself as he rolls his eyes. He grabs his bag that was on the floor of your bedroom.

"You got flashed. Just like when you flashed me your ass last time while you changed in front of me. You know what is worse ? We literally were talking about bakery buns at the same moment  !" you recall as you laugh. He follows you in your laughter and the two of you end up walking towards the entrance of your apartment.

"We both flashed our buns then. But I know you like my ass, yeah ?" he teases while waving his eyebrows charmingly as he puts on his shoes and jacket. It was a bit chilly this morning, but the weather will quickly go up and the sun will warm the city.

"I won’t bodyshame you…" you whisper in an attempt to taunt him.

"What is that supposed to mean ?!" he scoffs as he pauses in the middle of wrapping his black blindfold around his bright blue eyes.

"Nothing," you mutter looking away. For obvious reasons, you were joking. His ass was hot. But you prefer to be mean. He deserved some ego breaking. It was too big after all.

"Forget what I said about you having nice boobs, hmpf !" Satoru huffs as he turns his back to you while opening the door of your place. It was still early, and he always started his day earlier than yours. Meaning that when he came to sleep at your apartment (almost everyday, as if this man was homeless) he was the first one to leave.

"Are you pouting right now ?" you ask while getting closer, your smile getting bigger thanks to the immense amusement you had when mocking your best friend. His face distorts and his lips try to stay in a thin line of anger. 

"Goodbye, y/n," he answers as he steps outside grumpily. 

"Ahahah, you really are pouting !"

Before stepping away, he reluctantly turns around and ends up kissing the top of your head. He never missed doing that specific gesture. It was his sign of affection. But, this time, his lips fall chastity right on yours before he slams the door to somewhat show he still was sulking at you. What a baby. 

In the silence of your place after he left, your fingers softly caress the tip of your lips. Savoring once again in your imagination the feeling of his kiss. You started to really like this new habit of his. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

11 PM. was the hour when your best friend came back to your (kinda his) place. Seemingly, the atmosphere shifted right the moment he stepped inside. His mood was clearly at the lowest. As you were originally sitting on your couch, occupied with reading a book, the moment you stand up to greet him, Satoru is on you. His long arms wrap around your body, the bickering and him being mad at you long forgotten. Soon, his whole figure is leaning against yours like a cocoon. The tip of his nose shifts against your neck, his hair tickling your skin as his face is snuggled in the crook of your shoulder. His blindfold was already on the ground.

"Had a bad day ?" you ask softly.

"I need to recharge. Let me stay like this," he mumbles in an exhausted sigh. He smelled like fresh air, a mix of his cologne and rain. You remember it rained one hour ago. Was he out on a mission ? Thinking about it, you hug him as well and in a comforting embrace you bring him to the couch. He directly sank all his body weight on top of yours. Not like you cared, you were long used to him doing that. As long as you would not show any sign of dying because of a lack of oxygen, he would continue to do this for quite forever.

"Feeling better ?" you end questioning after some minutes of silence. 

"Not quite," he whispers. He raises his head, blue eyes staring right back at yours. You feel his breath falling against your chin. You don’t say anything when his mouth lands on yours. Tonight, the kiss lasts longer. Maybe because Satoru is tired, and the feeling of your lips brings him enough comfort for him to want to make it longer than a peck. You didn’t mind. It was warm, soft, like the sun caressing your skin on a summer afternoon. 

"Now, it’s better," he says as he puts his head back on your torso. You smile. Even if that dynamic was new, it was the most natural thing that ever happened in between the two of you. Maybe because your lips always belonged together. You pet his hair as you think about kisses. His kisses.

"Come on, go take a shower. You stink," you lie as you smile playfully at him. He groans while rolling his eyes at your teasing. Satoru reluctantly rises from you, and stretches his sore limbs in a yawn.

"Bitch, I literally smell better than you," he answers as he waves his hands in front of him to show his body as if he was the incarnation of a bottle of perfume. You can’t help but snicker, holding your nose.

"Ewwww, get away from me ! For the love of God, use some soap !" you exclaim as you push him with your free hand. He immediately wraps his arm around you and grabs your cheeks painfully.

"How can you be such a liar and so mean to me at the same time, when you know I had a bad day ?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, strengthening his hold on your poor cheeks.

"Having a bad day didn’t stop you from being stinky. Did you shit yourself ?" you counter attack, resulting in Satoru laughing loudly and heartedly at your words.

"Remind me to call you if someone tries to bully me, because you are the worst," he sighs while shaking his head in amusement, rubbing the top of your head before walking towards your shower. You can’t help but smile.

"That’s it, go away, you stinky man," you joke. Quickly, you slap his ass to reinforce your need to annoy him. It was like a drug, and Satoru couldn’t say anything about it since he could be way worse than you when it was about being annoying.

He turns around in a swift move to face you after feeling the sting on his butt cheek.

"Oh, you’re not getting away after doing this, y/n," he chuckles in a threatening way. Sensing danger, you intend to run away. Barely two steps towards your safe place, aka your bedroom, he chases after you and catches your body in no time. You yell of surprise and squirm like a lion in a cage, knowing your incoming punishment.

"I’m sorry, go away !" you try to make him step back but that was near impossible. His hold on you was too strong. It was useless.

"What’s wrong y/n, scared that I will hit too hard ?" he teases as he whispers in your ear. You shiver head to toe at the feeling of the vibration of his voice against the skin of your neck. He chuckles, while you stare at him.

"I didn’t hit hard. So if you do, we will have a problem Gojo," you answer intimidatingly as you call him by his family name on purpose.

"Wanna finish that on the ring, l/n ? I mean, the ring is your bed, so…" he wanders. His dimples show. You take the opportunity to dash away, but he directly grabs you against the wall and slaps your ass. The sound vibrates in the air as you yelp.

"You morron, that hurts !" you exclaim as you nudge his side angrily and face him when he frees your limbs. The first thing you see is his victory smile. Your heart beats harder instantly. 

"No it didn’t, I barely put any force in it. You’re just weak," he justifies himself, shrugging.

"Yes you did !" you protest pointing at him. He was having fun. You had less fun.

"Dare I say you’re not into spanking, y/n ?" he asks innocently.

"Oh fuck off," you retort as you turn around, walking towards your bedroom. At least you weren’t running like earlier.

"Gladly ! Wanna join me ?" he counters back.

"Go to shower."

"Wanna join me ?" he repeats.

You slam the door of your bedroom.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

"Let’s play roblox," Satoru exclaims for the seventh time in a row. The moment he came back from his shower and jumped on your bed, it was over for you. How could this man still have energy after having such a long and exhausting day ? That was a mystery. You groan as you turn your back to him.

"No, I’m tired. Tomorrow," you briefly answer in a sigh. You shift in a comfortable position. At the same time he leans over you, two arms caging you on the mattress. You sink on the sheets.

"You hate me," he replies.

"No."

"You hate me," he insists, face getting closer to yours.

"Yes I do," you end up saying, rolling your eyes.

"You hate m- wait what ?"

"Yes I hate you. Now, if you may… Good night !" you finish your sentence by turning your face towards the wall and closing your eyes. You hear a snort, and then lips fall on your cheek. Soon, teeth join in. Nibbling your skin was apparently Satoru’s favorite thing to do.

"You don’t really hate me," he whispers, more like to reassure himself. His breath falls on your neck and his mouth lands on your ear. More kisses.

"I don’t, but I will if you don’t let me sleep," you whisper back, keeping your eyes closed. 

"I wanted to marry you on roblox. It would be fun," he whines. Now his cheek rests against yours while he snuggles, pouting against your tired body.

"Can we do that on roblox ?" you question, sceptical. He moves his body to swallow yours in the most natural way there is.

"I think so."

"Then let’s get married now, not on roblox," you sigh, hoping that will make him stop bothering you for the rest of the night. He tilts his head, stopping to kiss and nibble your jawline like a dog. He seems thoughtful, and smiles, but then again quickly gets lost in the track of his thoughts.

"Alright. But we don’t have a priest, and I’m not wearing my special smoking. Oh, and the ring-"

"Oh my god Satoru, you don’t need all this !" you exclaim, just wanting to sleep.

"Of course I do !"

"Gojo Satoru, do you want to be my husband ? Yes, good. Now, l/n y/n do I want to be your wife ? Yes. Now you may kiss the bride ! Yoohoo !" you say quickly to just put an end to it.

Satoru blinks once, realizing what you just said, before grabbing your face and kissing you as quickly as possible. It wasn’t like earlier. It wasn’t as soft, as fleeting. This kiss was full of force, of hunger, despair and craving. It lasts so much longer as well. The moment you part to breathe, the second that follows, he is back on you. Mouth melting against yours. Urgent, needy, full of love and desire. Satoru was dying to kiss you more, and more, and even more.

You giggle at his eagerness, not losing time to even question why he kissed you like you two were long lost lovers. Maybe you were.

"Satoru, you don’t let me sleep !" you chuckle, but it’s quickly swallowed by his lips.

"I want more kisses," he implores, like a child desperately asking for the most precious thing in the world. Begging to have a greedy taste of the succulent flavor of your skin.

Maybe best friends aren’t supposed to kiss like lovers. Satoru would answer that you two weren’t best friends. You were worse. It didn’t matter to have a label for the sake of identifying your relationship with him. As long as he could freely love you, and you as well, it’s all that mattered. All he wanted was to be by your side and to forever lose himself in your lips.

Before kissing you again, he says : 

– Waiter, a cup of kisses please ! 

[maeedrg]

Okay. Breathe, Satoru. You can do this. It's just a sleepover. Just your girlfriend. Just the person you're absolutely, irrevocably obsessed with. Who you're trying really, really hard not to scare off.

Standing in your apartment, hands shoved deep in his pockets to keep from touching everything. You’re flitting around, casual, relaxed, while he’s trying to memorize the shape of your furniture, the smell of your space, the way you hum when you walk into the kitchen.

Satoru's baby-blues locking onto the bathroom door. “I’ll, uh... shower first, if that’s okay?” like it’s the most neutral, chill request ever. It’s not. He’s sweating. His ears are pink. You nod like it’s no big deal - of course it’s no big deal - but to him? It’s a very big deal.

He gently closes the bathroom door behind him. Worries if he makes too much of a sound, he will be banned from your fine establishment. Your things are everywhere. Shampoo bottles, conditioner, your razor, a little candle half-burned on the sink, your loofah hanging from the shower knob, the loofah. He stares at it for too long.

Are we at the loofah-sharing stage? Satoru wonders, frozen in place. It’s pink. Fluffy. It looks soft, and it’s yours, and he’s fighting every stupid urge in his body. “Don’t be weird,” muttering aloud, as if he can command himself into normalcy. Still, his fingers twitch. He holds it. Briefly. Gently. Just for a second. Just to say he did.

Then comes the body wash. He squirts out the tiniest amount and rubs it between his hands like it’s precious perfume. The scent hits him and he nearly slides down the wall. You smell like this. You smell like this all the time. How is he supposed to survive? Because now he smells like you.

Pressing his face into the steam and pretends it’s your neck. He’s sick. Maybe a little pathetic. He knows it. But he’s also just so in love. What can a guy do?

When he steps out, face flushed and hair damp, he feels like a teenage boy at his crush’s house for the first time - which, in his mind, he kinda is. You’re waiting for him in pajamas, makeup wiped off, looking soft and sleepy and so perfectly you. He thinks he might pass out.

And then… brushing teeth together. Should be simple. Should be normal. But nothing is normal around you. He’s beside you at the sink, trying to play it cool while your shoulder brushes his. You hum to yourself while brushing, glancing at him through the mirror, and he nearly foams at the mouth. Or maybe that’s the toothpaste. He’s not sure.

Then he sees it.

A little blob of foam at the corner of your lips.

Something happens to him. Something dark and unspeakable. He wants to kiss it away. He wants to lick it off your mouth like a psychopath. He stares. Blinks. Shakes his head like a wet dog. Absolutely not. No. Stop it.

What’s wrong with you, scolding himself. She’s just brushing her teeth. Like a person. A very pretty, perfect person.

He spits. Rinses. Avoids eye contact. Looks at the drain. Looks at your spit down the drain. Another weird thought. One that must be suppressed.

And then it’s time. Bedtime. Final boss.

Your bed is small. Cozy. Absolutely infested with plushies. He pretends to be annoyed but he secretly loves them. Even if they are plotting to kick him off the edge of the mattress. He climbs in carefully, unsure which plush is your favorite. Unsure what you'd do if he accidentally knocked one little guy off the floor. The blanket smells like your laundry. Like home. Like the future he wants with you.

You’re already under the covers, blinking at him sleepily, smile soft and content. Wearing his shirt and not much else. The fabric rides up your thighs and he has to look away before his brain fully melts. He deserves a prize for not making a move. Deciding to lay on his back, stiff, hands folded like he’s in a coffin. He doesn’t touch you. Not even a pinky. Be good, chanting to himself. Be good. You like her. You love her. You’re not a perv, you’re not a perv.

You shift closer.

A leg brushes his. A sigh escapes your lips. Your hand settles gently on his stomach like it belongs there.

He almost cries, something between a half whimper and a wheeze leaves his throat.

Slowly, carefully, he slides his arm around your waist. You don’t flinch. Don’t pull away. You lean into him.

He swears he hears wedding bells.

You fall asleep just like that, face nestled against his shoulder, breath even and slow. And he lies there, heart racing, brain fried, blinking up at the ceiling, Satoru would be getting no sleep tonight.

His thoughts are a mess: She’s so pretty. Is she really mine? What if I kissed her forehead? No, too soon. Maybe not. God, her skin is soft. I should move in. Tomorrow. Today. Right now. No, bad. Calm down. Be cool. Be a good boyfriend. Don’t get a boner. You’re cuddling. It’s fine. Just breathe. You’re okay. This is okay. Everything is okay.

He wants to. Touch you, that is. Just your waist. Just a hand on your back. Just to pull you closer and feel your heartbeat against his chest. But he doesn’t. He stays perfectly still. He doesn’t want to push anything. You haven’t done that yet, and he’d rather die than make you uncomfortable.

Except nothing’s okay. Because he’s so in love it physically hurts. Because you’re sleeping peacefully and trusting him with this little moment, and all he wants is to stay like this forever.

How are you sleeping so peacefully while he’s over here thinking about nothing but how perfect yoh are?

[maeedrg]

Hum guys… I swear I’m not dead (almost), it’s just college killing me, so with the little free time I have, here some quick fanart of our man Gojo 💔

yes because I’m in art major and I do draw lmao, I’ll probably post more fanarts of him aside from the fanfics.

What is written on his shirt is « cyberance swag ». For those that are french, and were kids or more in the 2000’s, would probably recognize this word « la cyberance »… if you know, you know 💋

[maeedrg]

ꪆৎ cw ʚ bestfriend!kaiser, girly!reader + weightlifter!, smut, size kink, spitting, choking, rough sex◞ ྀི

“You're really strong.”

Sitting on your best friend's back, Kaiser was doing push-ups with disconcerting ease.

“You doubted me?” his lips curved into his signature smirk.

You rolled your eyes. Arrogant asshole.

“Of course not.”

You had been going to the gym with Kaiser for months now. Your wardrobe had to accommodate all your new gym outfits, it was now overflowing with light pink shorts and cycling shorts, comfortable and girly clothes for your new passion : weight lifting. Kaiser found it cute to see you pink from head to toe, even your water bottle.

It was only recently that you motivated yourself to go to the gym and adopted healthy habits. Kaiser was a valuable ally in your new goal because he knew a lot about this subject.

“Keep your back straight,” he ordered, his hand on your lower back when you were doing squats.

He corrected you during all your exercises like a coach, he was uncompromising and didn’t let you make any mistakes. While you were doing exercises, he watched you attentively, making sure your posture was perfect. He really acted like a coach.

“I’m so energetic today, I feel I could do a two-hour session,” you said enthusiastically.

Kaiser chuckled, finding you cute.

“Careful, you’re gonna exhaust yourself,” he sat on a bench, looking at you doing your squats. 

“You always work out until you’re exhausted, why can’t I do the same,” you tilted your head, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“It’s a bodybuilding method. Work until failure so you don’t stagnate in your results. Something for real athletes and not beginners like you.”

“In my head, you’re just a masochist,” you rolled your eyes and stopped doing your squats. It was a warm-up for the real workout. You walked to the upper body machine area, and stopped at the shoulder press machine. You selected the weight you wanted to lift and got into position. Kaiser was working out on a machine, leaving you alone since you were on a machine, you didn’t need help with your posture. Before you started your exercise, a man approached you.

“You’re gonna have a muscle contracture if you leave your arms that straight, pretty.”

You observed the man who approached you, he was tall and attractive. Heat rushed into your cheeks when he called you “pretty”, and you nodded, correcting your posture. It was Kaiser’s role usually, but you didn’t mind being helped by handsome men.

You continued your workout quietly. The man stayed with you from time to time and chatted with you. His company didn’t bother you, and you spoke to him enthusiastically in return. You were happy to make new friends.

At the end of your workout, you exchanged numbers. That’s when Kaiser came back to you. He frowned when he saw the man next to you, and automatically moved closer to you.

“Who is he?” he asked, watching the man leave the gym.

“A new friend I made.”

“Friend? You exchanged numbers.” his frown deepened as the conversation continued. He didn’t like what was happening at all.

“Yeah, to keep in touch, dummy.”

You were oblivious to his budding jealousy. Kaiser liked you for a long time, but he was waiting for the right moment to talk about his feelings so as not to ruin your friendship. He wasn’t sure if his feelings were reciprocated, so he was careful not to make a mistake.

Kaiser was unusually silent on the way back to your apartment. You were sharing an apartment, so there was bound to be a time when you would have to unravel the mystery of his bad mood.

Arriving at your apartment, you slumped down on the couch. Your apartment had been decorated by you, there were plants everywhere, making the interior warm and lively. There were pictures of you and Kaiser on the walls, pictures that dated back to when you were teenagers. You looked at the pictures on the wall with a nostalgic smile.

“Hey, remember my birthday when I was 17? You ate all the cake, you got sick,” you chuckled but you stopped when you noticed that Kaiser remained silent, leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on the ground.

He wore black gym shorts, and a baggy black t-shirt that despite its width, revealed massive, bulging muscles through the fabric. With his height and his dark expression, he looked intimidating.

“Are you okay? You’ve been sulky since the gym,” you asked, your tone cautious.

You got up from the couch and walked over to him. You cupped his face with your hands, lifting it to make him look at you.

“What’s the problem, baby?”

“You.” he looked away.

"Me?" you narrowed your eyes.

“Yeah, you.”

A silence settled in in which you stared at him but he looked elsewhere, avoiding your gaze, his jaw clenched. His heart was racing, because he wanted to say it. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, and it killed him to see you give your attention to other men. That he wanted all of you just for himself. That he loved everything about you, including your annoying side. That you were his dream girl since forever.

And the best way to tell you this is to show it physically, that’s why he wrapped his arms around your waist and crushed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened with shock as you let him kiss you. He put all his frustration from earlier into that kiss, pressing his lips with force. You didn’t understand what was happening, but you weren’t against it. 

“You’ve always been mine, why are you trying to escape me now,” he muttered against your lips, nibbling on your lower lip.

“Escape? I didn’t try to escape you…”

“You did. Just an hour ago,” the edge of his tongue traced your mouth, and you parted your lips, waiting for him to kiss you for real. 

“It was just a friend, Micha.”

“Fuck him,” he captured your lips into a kiss, your tongues tangling together. “Nobody has the right to have you except me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, his arms under your ass to lift you. He carried you while kissing you to the sofa before placing you on it.

“Let me show you what it's like to be mine, you'll never want another man again,” he undid the elastic of his shorts.

That’s how you found yourself laying on the couch, your hand covering your moans as Kaiser pounded into you. He had his hand on your throat, choking you as his hips rocked into you with force and aggressiveness. 

“Who has the right to see you like this? Who has the right to touch like this, mhm ?” he panted out, his eyes drinking in your appearance, his eyes hungry for you. 

You struggled to answer him because your breathing was ragged. You placed your hands on his abdomen, trying to push him away, wanting him to slow down. 

“Tell me *thrust* who has *thrust* the right *thrust* to fuck you like this?”

His hand around your throat squeezed even more, as obscene noises were drawn out of him. His panting intensified with each deep stroke, and it was as if he was killing your insides every time he buried himself in you. 

“Y-You,” you whined, your tight heat aching because of his size. 

“That’s what I thought,” he smirked and he slammed his hips against yours again with even more force, his frantic pace making you lose your mind. 

“I can’t take it, Micha, I can’t take it !” Your eyes watered as you pushed him with all your strength, trying to get away from him. He was so big, every time he was plunging in, the stretch was so intense that your breathing stopped and you felt so full that you could explode. 

“Stop running away from that dick, baby. It’s yours,” he released your throat, and placed his hands under your knees. He pushed your legs until your knees were next to your head. The new angle made everything deeper, his cock slamming against your g-spot every time he thrusted into you. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head as your legs trembled. You were a mess, moaning and whining, your eyes full of tears. The dick was too good, and he was so big it hurt.

“Micha, it hurts…”

“I know,” one of his hands released your leg, and went between the two of you to rub your clit with his fingers. He slowed down his thrusts, and kept rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves with his index and middle fingers. 

The stretch became less painful, but it felt even better when Kaiser pushed out of you, and spat on your abused cunt. He spread the string of saliva between your folds, and when he shoved himself into you again, it was no longer painful. He bent over to kiss your forehead.

“Look at you, taking it like a big girl,” he whispered in a low voice, his eyes full of love, a contrast with the brutality of his thrusts. 

The sound of your sweaty bodies colliding enveloped the room and the wet squelching of your pussy coating his dick could be heard. 

“Look at us,” he gazed at where your bodies connected, every time he pushed out, you could see the milky white ring of your arousal, and every time he pushed in your hole greedily sucked him in.

“I made a mess,” you panted, feeling the wet couch under your ass. 

“It’s okay. Let’s make a mess all night, love.”

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

[maeedrg]

What are we ?

part 4 (final part)

fake dating Gojo X fem reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

part 3 part 4

Synopsis : You finally reunite with the man that you love, but among the chaos, being now a real couple is hard. The upcoming battle of Gojo against Sukuna means potential death, and the more the due date approaches, the more anxious you become. Yet, you try to make the most of it. And Satoru plans on making you a final surprise before he has to leave for his battle.

Words count : 6.4k.

Warnings : smut, p in v, fingering, face sitting, loving sex, emotional smut, spoilers of the manga, implied death, angst, and more warnings would be spoilers so I let it like that, xoxo.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : wow, here the final chapter. I really hope you guys will enjoy it, thank you for reading to the end !

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Were you dreaming ? Was this in the end, all just a stupid dream ? Feeling the burning touch of the person you longed for since being fifteen, of the person you almost died for, many times, of the person you loved to the moon and back. His lips, needy and greedy, sucking on your nipples, treating them like lollipops as his large hand is busy inside your panties. Long fingers pumping in and out of your clenching walls, thumb teasing your clit with care and attention. His eyes, a deep blue, never leave your gaze, showing you all the love they holded and never wanting to tear them apart of your sweet pretty face moaning like a mess. God, you were like an angel, your legs holding Heaven, and he couldn’t wait to die inside of your thighs to ascend to paradise.

“I love you, so much,” he whispers, biting on your nipple, making you groan as you tilt your head back. He directly grabs the back of your head to force you to continue to look into his eyes. You couldn’t look away, he needed to keep your gaze on him, because he was afraid that if you didn’t, you would disappear and Satoru would realize that everything that was happening was just a dream.

He captures your lips when he feels you shaking, your wetness overflowing your hole, ready to reach your high. He moves his fingers faster, hitting your sweet spot. Some seconds later, you cum hard on his hand, his mouth drowning your pleas and your cries of pleasure. He rides your waves of bliss, before slowly withdrawing his hand and taking off your panties. He sucks on his fingers, and then starts pampering kisses on your neck.

“I always dreamed of this, dreamed of pleasing you, of being the one to touch you. Fuck, y/n, I’m going crazy for you,” he murmurs like a prayer against your throat and collarbones. 

He parts your thighs, and you suddenly become self aware that Satoru, your best friend for more than a decade, now lover, will see for the first time your private parts. It was ridiculous, really. His fingers already touched you and made you cum. But it was under your panties, away from his prying eyes. You look nervous, and Satoru, hyper aware of every one of your tiny reactions, senses it.

“What is it ?” he whispers through half lidded eyes, slowly pushing more apart your thighs as he gets in between them. His eyes are still on you, but yours are down. You notice the tightness in his pants, and you bite your lower lip.

“I’m nervous,” you finally admit.

“I’m nervous too,” he whispers, one hand cradling the side of your face lovingly.

“You are ? Why ?” you ask surprised as his other hand is still on your thigh, thumb caressing your skin softly, like a soothing balm.

“Because I want to make it perfect for you. You’re the woman I love, it’s my first time with you. I’ve been holding myself back for damn years, y/n. I can’t mess it up,” he explains, and you slowly look back up to meet his burning and sincere gaze, full of raw vulnerability. You peck his lips, like a reassurance.

“You won’t mess it up,” you answer softly, and gasp when his thumb slides back down on your wet folds, and his eyes are looking at your dripping cunt. Fuck, he is looking. His cheeks have a dust of pink, and you realize that he is breathing heavily, biting his lower lip to the point of almost tearing it apart, and the muscles of his arms are contracting like he was holding himself back.

“I will if I listen to my inner thoughts and indulge in my own pleasure,” he replies, bending down and you open wider your eyes as he kneels on the floor, face right in front of your core. His arms swing around your waist and bring you closer, his breath fawning on your stickiness and you shudder at the feeling. 

“Because… fuck- seeing you like that makes me want to take you right now. But I don’t want to hurt you. I want to make you feel loved,” Satoru adds, lending his lips on your throbbing clit, and you moan, lifting yourself on your elbows to look at him. Oh, he was beautiful like that, ready to eat you out, down on his knees just for you.

“You… already are making me feel loved,” you whisper, shivering and digging your nails in the sheets as he slowly gives a first lick, and his eyes roll back down his skull at the heavenly taste of your juices. You moan louder when his tongue reaches your bundle of nerves, and soon his whole mouth is on. Sucking, teeths slightly teasing, very gently, tongue lapping and lips making out with your cunt. 

You tangle your hand in his snowy white hair, thighs squeezing around him. He doesn’t mind, at all. If you wanted, you could suffocate him to death, ride his face until he chokes, anything. Fuck, he exactly wants that. He suddenly lifts himself up and flips you over, letting you straddle him. You open your mouth wide, not expecting this, as his face is right under your throbbing hole.

“Satoru what are you-” you start to question, but soon, your voice gets strangled by a cry of pleasure when his hands grip your hips and his mouth is back eating you out.

You shake, legs struggling to stay still, slowly sinking lower and lower on his mouth. You felt all your strength leaving you, trying to hold yourself to not fall completely apart. He was right under you, devouring you like you were his last meal. But you were scared to crush him with your weight.

“Sit down on my face, y/n,” he suddenly says, and you look down at him, unsure, waves of warmth possessing your body.

“I’ll crush you,” you mutter.

“I’m not The Strongest for nothing, baby. So… sit,” he says cockily, and you can’t even protest that his grip is bringing you down in one go on his face. Sinking on him with your full weight, and the fear of breaking his head is soon far away as ecstasy takes back control when you feel his mouth being busy making you feel good. You moan louder, arching your back and the coil in your stomach becoming bigger. 

It felt so good that your vision got blurry, and your mind became blank. All embarrassment and shame disappeared as your hips jerked and started to grind faster against his tongue and nose. Chasing down your own pleasure. At the same time, Satoru was creaming his pants, his aching boner just getting bigger and harder, only wanting to find solace inside your walls.

For the second time, you came hard, squirting all over his mouth, and the white haired male laps the remaining juices ‘till the last drop. He smiles like an idiot, making you fall back on the bed, straddling you and pecking your forehead. Your legs were a damn mess, sticky and bobbly. The face of Satoru was glistening, proud.

“You did so good for me,” he praises, letting you catch up your breath and try to take back control of your mind.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, helping him take off his t-shirt, revealing his torso. Soon, your lips find back his, like a magnet, and your legs roll around his hips to bring him against your still dripping cunt. His hard clothed cock presses against you, twitching of need. You hear him moan against your mouth, and he shifts slightly to get more comfortable. He unbuckles his belt, and then unbuttons his pants, zipping it down to reveal his boxer ruined by his precum. He pants heavily, wishing he could just fuck you at this instant. No- he had to be patient. But it was hard to be patient, actually.

“You said I’m making you feel loved, but it’s not enough. I want to catch up all these years before… it’s too late,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with a hint of sadness, and you directly understand what he means by ‘before it’s too late’. You swallow the lump in your throat, not wanting to imagine a world where Gojo would lose against Sukuna and never come back to you. 

“Don’t talk about that,” you plead, shaking your head. He takes your face in his large hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks and cradling them with care.

“Shit, sorry. I won’t. It’s only you and me right now,” he apologizes, kissing your forehead. You look back into his eyes for some seconds, the two of you not moving, before you decide to let your hand trailing down his torso. He shivers, your touch igniting a fire inside his soul, and his muscles flex under the tip of your fingers. He gasps when your nails graze his dick through his boxer, and then your warm fingers slip inside it. The moment your hand wraps for the first time around his length, he had to pray God to forgive himself for the things he was about to do to you, because they were too sinful.

“Y/n, you- ahh… fuck,” he hisses, as you free his cock and slide it against your heat. He shudders, biting his lower lip and bucking his hips against yours, grinding his angry tip on your slit and your hole.

“I love you so damn bad, that it hurts. Ahh.. please, please. Can I put it in ? I’ll be gentle, I promise, fuck- please, y/n,” he begs, Gojo Satoru begs to you. Lips and warm breath covering your mouth and you bring his hips closer with your legs.

“Just take me, Satoru. I’ve been waiting for this for too long. I can’t wait anymore,” you silently answer in a cracked voice full of need.

He looks at you in the eyes, and then finally, while holding your gaze, he enters you. Inch by inch, filling you completely with his length. You breathe in to adjust, nails digging into his back, and his eyes are on yours the whole time, forehead against forehead.

“Yeah, take it all in- ah, you’re so tight y/n. Are you trying to squeeze me dry ?” he chuckles nervously, breathing heavily and then finally reaching as deep as he could. Oh, Lord, the sensation was so perfect he had to take a second to think or else he would have been cumming all over your walls.

“Shut up,” you start to answer, but then when his hips start to move, you arch your back and get cut in your own breathing pattern. You moan of pleasure, toes curling as he bends slightly to have his tip hitting your sweet spot every time he thrusts inside of you.

“You feel so good y/n, better than I have ever imagined. You’re so perfect,” he pants, his head falling inside the crook of your shoulder and biting it while moving slightly faster. His arms bring you closer, your breast pressing against his chest and supporting you in his embrace. He cradles you in love and affection, fucking you with care and gentleness, even if sometimes he liked to slam hard inside to surprise you and make you jolt and clench deliciously around his dick.

Your breathings were in sync, and the feeling of pleasure was so intense that the both of you soon got overwhelmed by it. You couldn’t believe you were having sex with Satoru. It was almost too good to be true. A living dream. Satoru was so happy to finally have you to himself among this chaos, to finally becoming one with the love of his life, to finally share all the intimacy he wanted to have with you, to be raw and vulnerable, that in the midst of pleasure, his eyes started to grow wet.

His pearly white lashes flutter, clenching you harder against him, hips meeting yours faster but in a slopier way. Salty water rolls down his eyes, and he swallows a breath as his tears wet your soft skin.

“I’ll never let you go- ah, I promise. Even If I die, I’ll always come back to you. Hell, if love is a curse, then I’ll, hmm, gladly let you… - curse me,” he says in between broken groans and moans of pleasure, his tears never stopping to roll down, like a river on his snowy skin.

“I love you, Satoru,” you whisper, emotions taking over, your heart hammering in your chest and grabbing his face to kiss the drops of salty water on his cheeks.

He closes his eyes, kissing your lips tenderly as he murmurs another ‘I love you’. You didn’t count how many times he said that tonight, but you weren’t complaining. Soon, his sloppy thrusts become steady again, chasing release and wanting to bring you to the end of ecstasy.

You dig harder your nails in his back when a wave of pleasure washes over you, and then, both at the same time, you cum. Hard. Your juices mix together, cum dripping off your walls as he shivers and moans your name in your ear like a dying prayer before opening the doors of Heaven.

You pant heavily, a whole minute passing by to let you both catch back your breath and realize what just happened. He wipes his tears and kisses your cheek tenderly. You swear, you hoped you could take a picture of his face right now, because of how angelic he looked after crying for you. It felt like an illusion.

“Now that I tasted what it feels like to have you, I fear I’m addicted,” he admits, kissing down your neck, licking the skin where his tears stained it.

“More than sweets ?” you joke softly, caressing his hair and putting his white locks away from his forehead.

“My sweet tooth is nothing compared to my addiction to you, y/n,” he mutters, teeth grazing your ear and then lips caressing your jaw.

“I should get worried,” you chuckled, shifting a bit as he was still inside of you. Clearly, he didn’t want to move away.

“Maybe. Surely, actually,” he hums, winking at you.

“I don’t mind if you consume me whole,” you admit, and that wakes something back inside of him. He raises his head to look at you, suddenly slamming his mouth to yours.

“Then don’t be surprised if I do,” he exclaims, and his cock twitches, fully getting hard again and filling you back completely. You moan of surprise.

“Hey- you just came ! How come you suddenly are getting back hard ?!”

“You said I could consume you. I will. I’m not done with you, y/n,” he answers, before flipping you over, ass up and face down in the pillows. He adjusts himself in front of the delicious view he had of your arched back.

The night was still young, and Satoru promised to make himself forgiven for all the time he spent away from you.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

Days were flying by. Honestly, it was scary. Satoru was busy either training for the incoming fight against Sukuna, or spending his remaining time with you. You both tried to act like a normal couple, a real one this time, but it was hard. It was hard when chaos was surrounding you, and that death was surely awaiting your now boyfriend. Stress, nervosity, fear was eating you alive. Satoru saw it all, and aside from kissing you softly to ease your worries, hugging you close to his beating heart to show he was still here, or trying to crack his usual jokes to lighten the mood, he couldn’t do much to bring you peace.

You never expected, months ago, that after the tragedy of him leaving you, getting sealed and half of Japan getting destroyed, you will become the real girlfriend of Gojo Satoru, not his fake one. But now, for the sake of another incoming tragedy, your happiness will be short = his possible death.

You felt like throwing up when they proposed to Gojo that if he died, they would use his body like a weapon. Just in case, so that when Gojo loses, he still would be useful, his body getting used by his own student. They did a test when Yuta and your boyfriend possessed the body of one another. 

“Satoru, don’t tell me you are accepting that- please. I can’t let you get treated like a weapon even in your death ! Hell, I can’t even let you die !” you cry, grabbing his hand in between yours, face getting paler at this horrible idea. You try to breathe, but it’s hard. He looks down at you, as if he was unfazed by this, but you see in his eyes the raw sadness they holded.

“I always have been a weapon, y/n. Since I was born,” he simply answered with a tired smile.

“Not to me ! Satoru, after everything we went through, never doubt what I think about you. You are a human, a human that I love, a human that I care for, a human that I cherish…” you start to say as his hand twitches in yours. He doesn’t move, looking down at you, biting his lower lip.

“I have love and dreams too. I told Yuji that one day everyone will grow up and leave me behind, right ? He said he wouldn’t forget me, but I still think he will,” he starts vaguely answering, looking away at the sun setting on the snowy park. It was oddly peaceful. 

“And me, do you think I could ever forget you ?” you ask in a broken voice. His free arm suddenly wraps around you, bringing you closer so you couldn’t see his facial expression. He buries his head in your hair, clinging to you like a lifeline.

“No. I want to say I wish you did, but that would be lying. I don’t want you to forget about me,” he admits, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as he squeezes you tighter.

“I will never forget about you for two reasons. First, you are unforgettable. You are part of my soul. Forgetting about you would mean tearing apart a piece of myself. Second, I will not let you die. Meaning you will stay by my side. No matter what,” you explain, sure of yourself, gripping him harder to emphasize the truth of your sentences.

He chuckles slightly at your words, kissing the top of your head with love and genuine happiness to hear you say this.

“Y/n, I’m the happiest man on earth to have you as my girlfriend. I truly wish I had the nerves and threw away my fear years ago, to ask you out,” he ends up admitting, thumb caressing your lower back. As you breathe, mist is created because of the cold.

“I wish too, but, I still had a lot of fun just being your best friend for all these years,” you reply, letting out a small laugh as you lift your head to look into his eyes. He stares at them, silently, lost in thoughts, before smirking.

“You know, when I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend months ago, for the gathering… Actually, I could have not gone to this event, like I did every other time. I just wanted an excuse to have you by my side as my lover, even if it was for one night. So I took the opportunity that the higher ups were pressuring me with marriage and all, to ask you this favor. I was happy even if it was fake,” he says, revealing to you what was actually happening inside the head of the white haired sorcerer. You open your eyes, wide, surprised that he kind of planned all this. You nudge him, scoffing.

“Oh you sneaky- so you knew that we would have to continue to pretend after the event because of all the gossip ?”

“Of course. It’s for that I made out with you in front of everyone. I wanted this little fake dating thing to continue as long as possible. Even if… it brought you pain in the end. I’m sorry,” he says more softly, sighing as he gazes at you with hurt and regret. You frown.

“Satoru, stop with that. It was the elders fault, not yours-”

“Yeah yeah. I killed them anyways,” he interrupts you, shrugging it off. You sigh, and make him step with you towards the exit of the park.

“Come on, let’s go back inside. You trained a lot today, you need to rest before tomorrow. And, I have a surprise for you,” you try to lighten the mood, wanting to only focus on the happiness of today, and nothing else. Because if you didn’t, it would be too painful.

“A surprise ? Ohhhh, is that you wrapped in sexy lingerie under the christmas tree just for me ?” he drawls, waving his eyebrows playfully, flashing you a charming smile.

“No, you pervert. But you spoiled the surprise, it is indeed a gift under the christmas tree. I know we are the twenty-three of December, and Christmas is tomorrow. But since you will have to go… you know. I wanted to make sure you had your present before leaving,” you end up answering more calmly, squeezing his warm hand in yours.

“We really read each other’s minds. I planned to do the same thing ! I have a surprise for you too, eheh,” he muses happily, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to bring you closer.

“Really ? Now I’m even more excited, let’s go !” you exclaim with excitement, stars in your eyes. Satoru can’t help but feel nervous, yet happy, smiling at your unaware face of what the surprise will be.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

In the intimacy of the moment, Satoru discovered his christmas gift. It was actually hard to find one, as… obviously, every store around was closed, people had to evacuate some weeks ago. But, you managed to go back to your place, and take what you needed. You already offered him something you bought some time ago, for his birthday, the seven of december. For Christmas, his gift was a warm scarf with a cd. The cd actually holded a compilation of videos you had taken for almost fifteen years, since you met Satoru. It retraced all your friendship through time, rediscovering memories that were long lost.

You already cried of nostalgia when secretly preparing it, but seeing it again, with an overjoyed Satoru at your side, it was hard to not have tears again. Even more when seeing all these shared moments, that will maybe come to an end tomorrow. Satoru thought the exact same. But he didn’t want to make you sadder, instead just wanting to show you his gratitude and his happiness for this amazing sentimental gift.

“My turn now,” he whispers in the crook of your neck as you were both sitting next to the christmas tree in front of the fireplace. Actually, it was the fireplace of the entry of the hotel you both stayed at. The tree was gigantic as well, and you had the place for only the two of you. It was, to say the least, magic, majestic, beautiful and dreamy.

“Ok, I’m excited,” you beam.

“And I’m nervoussss,” he mutters, taking something from his pocket, his eyebrows frowning.

“What ?”

“I said close your eyes,” he gives you a peck on the lips.

“You didn’t say that, but ok,” you chuckle, doing so. Some seconds pass, and then something shifts in the air, before you feel Satoru moving slightly.

“You can open them,” he whispers in such a soft voice that you can’t help but be surprised. As you slowly open them, your heart stops beating for a second when you see him having one knee on the ground, looking at you with so much love in his eyes, holding a tiny box with a diamond ring sitting elegantly inside of it.

“What-” you choke, not believing your eyes. 

“Y/n, I know it’s very early in our relationship. I know it’s only been barely a month, since I got unsealed, that we are officially dating. But, God. I love you, so damn much. I have loved you since I’m fifteen, and I turned twenty-nine a few days ago. It’s been more than a decade since I know how infatuated and crazy I am for you. I’m convinced that the only person I want in my life is you, and nobody else. Hell, I was terrified about all these arranged marriages they tried to put me into since I’m of age. Yet, when I think about a future with you, I’m sure : being your husband is actually something I would be happy to be. So yes, it is rushed. But if I came to die tomorrow, I at least want to die being your fiance, knowing I had the courage to ask you this question : will you marry me ?”

“Oh my-,” you shake, hand covering your mouth as tears swell in your eyes. You didn’t expect it, at all. And knowing why it was so rushed, that it maybe will be the only occasion in his life to ask you this, before his death, before tomorrow, it breaks your heart. Years spent by his side, from teenager years to adulthood, flash before your eyes. The man that you always loved was asking for your hand, and that felt like a dream. Satoru smiles awkwardly, seriously stressed at your lack of answer as he swallows his saliva.

“Can I take that as a yes ?” he tries to make you answer, some hope glinting in his irises while he gets closer. You snap back of your thoughts, and nod firmly.

“Yes Satoru, yes,” and he gently takes your hand, sliding the ring on it. It fits perfectly, and you stare at it with awe before he takes your face and kisses you with so much care that you falter. You bring him closer, the ring shining under the lights of the christmas tree, like a promise made to the stars.

“Here I thought you would break my heart,” he whispers teasingly against your mouth, even if he wasn’t entirely joking when saying this.

“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter, fingers caressing his tender face, cradling it with care and affection. 

“I love you,” Satoru murmurs for your ears only, even if nobody else was around, aside from the two of you. He wishes it could stay like this.

“I love you too,” you answer back, taking him in your arms. He smiles, wrapping his around your body and bringing you closer to his chest, molding against yours.

“How did you manage to have an engagement ring when everything around is closed ?” you ask after some minutes of silence, his hand softly caressing your back in a soothing way.

“Don’t worry about that, I got my ways,” he replies mysteriously, and you roll your eyes, while he only chuckles as a response.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you say in the crook of his neck, hugging him tighter, closer to your heart.

“Here, if you want to make it real, I have the other ring. You can put it on me,” he kisses the top of your head and grabs you by the shoulders. Intrigued, you look up at him, and he offers you the matching ring that would belong on his finger. You smile, amused, and excited as well. You take it gently, and then softly and slowly slide it around his digit.

“Yes, I want to marry you, y/n. Oh my god ! Such an amazing ring ! Kyaaaa,” he exclaims, acting all giddy and exaggerating, which makes you laugh heartily, pleased to share this moment of warmth and happiness with him.

“You’re such a dork,” you tease him, kissing his cheek, and the corner of his lips curls as his face becomes a soft pink.

“I know you love it,” he muses, making you rest again on his chest, nuzzling your shoulder to annoy you, but really, you enjoy it more than anything to have him so close. As if he wanted to crawl under your skin and nest inside. That wouldn’t be such a bad idea, he thought.

“Of course,” you answer, nudging him.

Again, minutes pass, staring at the fireplace, the dancing flames moving in singular harmonies, making you lost in thoughts.

“Satoru ?”

“Yes, sweetheart ?”

“Tomorrow, please, come back to me,” you whisper in a plea, clenching yourself harder against him. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what will have to come.

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.”

He looks into your eyes.

“One day, I hope to call you my wife.”

“And you, my husband.”

May this become true.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  

January, 2025.

“And, this is how I met him. But hey, stop slacking off, there is still some training to do, hurry up !” you exclaim as you stop your train of thoughts and look at the three first years facing you, as they just started some weeks ago to study here at Jujutsu high. It was refreshing to see new generations enjoying their youth, as they should be.

“But professor, your ring is so pretty, we want to know more about him !” insists the smaller one, doing puppy eyes as she stares at the stone ornamenting your finger. You smile softly looking at it, nostalgia hitting you raw.

“Who are we talking about ?” asks a second year, coming closer, intrigued by the conversation happening in the warmth of the sun up your head in the training grounds. 

“The love of my life,” you whisper softly, very very gently, as if only you could hear your own words.

“Oh- you mean the one that-” starts to say the second year, face distorting in pain.

“Shhhhh, don’t say it,” quickly cuts him off one of the three first years that was listening to you earlier.

“It’s alright, it’s not a bad word,” you shrug, chuckling softly as you give them a reassuring smile.

“But…” starts the teenager, yet you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No more slacking, come on ! Your cursed energy will not get trained alone !” you say with authority, sighing as they grumble and go back to their training in the middle of the field as you keep a watchful eye over them.

“Miss Gojo,” suddenly interrupts a voice, and when you turn your head, you are met with black hair. 

“Yuta, I told you to stop calling me that,” you huff, scolding him, and even shaking your head. But really, it actually didn’t bother you at all.

“I know, but he threatened me to do it every time I would see you,” answers the poor boy, now a man, embarrassed and feeling slightly guilty.

“Ah, what a bully…” you start to say, laughing to yourself at this core memory, one that was deep inside your heart. You take a deep breath and look back at him, “ did you need something ?”

“I got charged to tell you to go in an emergency at the red gates,” he admits, and you raise your eyebrows, surprised. You give a look to your students, making sure they would be ok by themselves. Well, they would surely slack off once you will be away, but it wasn’t the most important matter right now.

“What ? Alright, I’m going. Thanks !” you nod, and quickly run off towards the location. You slowly slow down when you arrive there, and your eyebrows raise when you see what is standing in front of the gates. You jog, before walking more calmly, surprised and your heart beating faster.

“Satoru ?”

“Come give a big hug to your amazing husband !” exclaims the white haired male, opening wide his arms. You grin,more like a big fat smile, wrinkles at the corners of your eyes as you laugh and jump in the embrace of your husband. His strong limbs wrap around you, catching you perfectly in time as he was long used to doing that. You inhale his familiar scent, pleased to see him after this long exhausting day.

“What are you doing here ?” you ask, raising your head as he pecks your lips tenderly.

“You took too long to come back home, I got bored,” he explains, shrugging. His large palm decorated by his wedding ring caresses the side of your face lovingly.

“Easy for you to say when you don’t work anymore, while I still have students to teach,” you answer, giving him a look, even if you were mostly joking around and not really accusing him of anything.

“Hey, I’m retired, it’s different. And I keep telling you that you can stop working as well, as I can provide the two of us for a lifetime,” he retorts, pouting like a manchild, squeezing you harder, almost knocking the air out of your lungs. You chuckle.

“I know, but a certain someone can’t seem to want to let go of his past as a teacher, and insisted that I would take care of the future generations. So, I’m doing my job,” you correct, tapping the tip of his nose, and he scrunches it like a bunny in reply, which makes you laugh.

“I know what I said, but I’m greedy. I didn’t think you would take it so seriously- I miss you at home,” he insists, whining harder, deeping his head in the crook of your head and breathing loudly to emphasize his distress. 

“Poor house husband... And of course I took it seriously ! You asked me this when you lost your Six eyes and Infinity, it was an important promise I made !” you exclaim in a scoff, not believing your ears, hitting his shoulder, yet he doesn’t budge. 

“I'll take it back, stay at home with me, pretty please,” he answers, doing his usual puppy eyes that make you weak on your knees.

“For you to pester me all day ? No,” you shake your head, rolling your eyes.

“And a lot of good sex,” he adds, smirking and tilting his head to the side to look at you with his charming gaze.

“That’s tempting… but no. Come on, let’s go grab something to eat, I’m starving,” you giggle, taking his hand in yours as he intertwines his fingers together, sharing his warmth. You’ll call Yuta to inform him to tell your students that class is dismissed. Not like they would be sad, as they clearly were grumpy at the idea of training more. Kids these days…

“And let’s go to the arcade after,” he proposes, walking next to you at the same pace, winking at you.

“Are we really a married couple or some teenagers ?” you laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“I still feel like a teenager in love when I’m with you, honey,” he muses, nudging you, which makes you grin.

“Yet, we’re 34 and 35,” you insist. Saying it makes you realize how much older you are than what you think in your head.

“I can’t believe our marriage was already five years ago !” he exclaims, eyes wide open and mouth agape, shocked by his own words.

“And seven years ago we started “fake dating”, time does really fly,” you don’t forget to say, teasing him.

“As long as I’m by your side, I don’t mind,” he answers more calmly, kissing the finger holding your ring. You fluster at his gesture. Looking at your husband makes you realize how lucky you are to still have him by your side after everything that happened.

Years ago, he almost died against Sukuna. To the point that you couldn’t help but jump into the fight when Magohara almost sliced him in two, saving him at the last second. It almost cost your own life, but you would do it all over again, just for him. The sake of his winning ended in what jujutsu society and the rest of the world would call a tragedy, but to you and him, it brought peace to his life. Indeed, the cost was a binding vow, making him lose his Six eyes and Infinity abilities. It meant the end of The Strongest, of the great Gojo Satoru. For many, it was worse than death itself.

But he couldn’t be more than happy, leaving the future of jujutsu society to new fresh generations, and finally ending his years of labor and exhaustion. He was now a free man, being able to live a normal life, and actually having the joy to learn what a normal life is. Because he hardly had the chance to explore normality, never in its fullest. 

“We really should get a baby,” he suddenly says, humming as the two of you walk in a quiet street. 

“You keep talking about it,” you answer, giving him a smile, wondering how serious he was right now.

“Because I want a family with you,” he replies, looking at you in the eyes with sincerity. You stop walking one second, before starting again more calmly. You squeeze his hand lovingly.

“I want one too, my love,” you whisper, leaning towards him affectionately. At your words, he suddenly turns towards you and grabs you by the shoulders to make you stop and instead walk the opposite way. Startled, you look at him confused, but still follow him nonetheless.

“Ok, let’s go home now,” he announces, more like orders.

“And what about eating something and going to the arcade-” you start to say, but he quickly cuts you off.

“Forget about it, I’m going to make you pregnant tonight !” he exclaims determined, walking even faster, to the point the two of you are now running towards your shared house. You keep laughing with him all the way to your home, Satoru joining you in your never ending laughter, full of joy and hope.

After having the chance to marry you, he just couldn’t wait to fully start a family with the love of his life.

If years ago, when the two of you started fake dating, someone would tell him that you and him would be married trying for a kid, he would have thought that it was because of a scheme of the higher ups. Not because he had the chance to make it by choice and out of his love for you. 

Gojo Satoru truly was the happiest man on earth. That’s what he thought every morning when waking up next to you.

And curses be damned, love is the greatest blessing of all. 

THE END

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I'm so happy that we finally reached the end ! This was so fun to write, and exploring both the angst and the comedic fluff was very interesting. I hope I managed to get you on your toes untill the end, wondering if Gojo had an ending like in the manga, or something canonically divergent. Thank you all for reading, reactions would be appreciated. See you soon for other fics, xoxo ! Love y'all.

Tag list : @bnbaochauuu @bunniotomia

[maeedrg]

What are we ?

part 3

fake dating Gojo X fem reader

ᯓ★

MASTERLIST of the series

part 2 part 3 part 4

Synopsis : After months, you and Satoru are still stuck in this dance of playing to pretend. But you both never mentioned back what happened to the jacuzzi. The tension became unbearable, but everything goes down the hill when the higher ups attempt to get rid of you as you were considered useless now. At the same time, they take matters in their hand to find a new suitor for him. Gojo can’t bear the thought of losing you, and he makes a decision for your safety. One that was apparently for the best.

Words count : 7.8k.

Warnings : many deaths and attempt murder, blood, angst, spoilers of the shibuya incident and what comes after, some satosugu implied, beginning of the smut, doomed love, but still some fluff.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : "I can’t wait to show this amazing chapter to other people !" I said with excitement. "Hey what do you think of this chapter ?" "It’s fucking shit !" Said the fuck you guy.

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Months. It’s been months, damn months now, that you and Satoru were fake dating. You didn’t know if you turned crazy, the tension being too thick, too palpable, too much. After what happened in the jacuzzi, Satoru and you never did such a thing again. Even in public, when having to prove a point, the touch of his lips against yours was short, quick, way too quick, actually. Like something burning you, but aching to play with fire longer. Yet, you were left wanting, needy. Months of dreaming of being able to feel again what you had at the hotel. Months of dying to have more. Months of turning mad, as waiting became now impossible.

You didn’t know what Satoru was thinking. Entering the head of The Strongest was something you couldn’t hope to succeed. Years of keeping everything to himself made him extremely good at hiding his feelings and real emotions. This dangerous game of lingering touches, sentences, playing the role of your boyfriend way too realistically, made you wonder what was happening. But unable to know was making you want to rip your hair off your head.

You weren’t the only one to turn crazy. Satoru was as well. Truly falling in madness at stopping himself from going farther. After what happened in the jacuzzi, he realized that if you didn’t stop him, you two would have crossed a line that he was dying to cross, but terrified as well. Because he knew damn well, that once he would, he would be doomed. Doomed because it would be impossible to run away from the responsibilities of his love for you. Satoru was used to loving you in secret. He couldn’t accept that all the time he spent hiding his feelings would go to waste. Because even if he was deeply in love with his best friend, he couldn’t have a happy life dating her. Dating you. He understood that well when playing pretend, even if he understood it already back in highschool, years ago, when his love just started blooming in the innocence of the youth.

Being The Strongest meant any happiness would be taken away from him. Because of his title, and also because of himself. He felt like what happened to Suguru was his own fault, and he would never forgive himself if something happened to you as well. He couldn’t bear to lose you, destroying everything because of his carelessness. After all, in his eyes, dating someone was a far greater commitment compared to friendship. What if he hurted you, and would be a horrible boyfriend ? What if overworking himself would make you hate his absence ? What if him being scared of vulnerability would make you resent him from not opening up ? What if you would break up with him and leave him forever ? He already struggled to be a good best friend, because he did fail once. So being a good boyfriend ? It was terrifying. 

In the end he only danced on the line of real and false, enjoying flirting with you, acting like your boyfriend, without the real commitment of his feelings, of his fears, of his nightmares. Satoru wasn’t strong, he was weak, for you. It was better that way, he thought. He wasn’t yours, you weren’t his. But at least, you stayed by his side. 

“Satoruuuu, you’re zoning out. It’s your turn !” you exclaim, waving your uno cards in front of the white haired male, that quickly snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Uh ?” he blinks, before looking down at his cards and remembering he had to play the combo he wanted to do. Quickly, he puts three cards on the top of the pile.

“I’m soon leaving for my mission, so let’s finish playing before I go,” you explain, your turn now.

“Hmmm, yep,” he hums, still trying to forget whatever he was deeply thinking about. He had to act like everything was okay, and avoid looking too much at your face, or else… he might lose it and kiss you senseless before he could even realize what he was doing. He clears his throat before asking, “where was your mission again ?”

“In an abandoned hospital. Apparently it’s only some grade 3 curses, it would be easy,” you explain, looking at your cards.

“If you need my help, call me. I’ll be very happy to ditch my meeting with the elders and instead come save your ass,”he says, flashing you his usual cheeky grin.

“I don’t need you to save my ass for some low grades, Satoru,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes at his bravado. 

“I just want to be your knight in shining armor,” he pouts, answering that, before suddenly putting a +4 on the pile. You groan, glaring at him, before taking your due, annoyed. You only had two cards left, and now, six ! He could go to hell, you thought.

“Just say you don’t want to go to your meeting,” you end up replying a bit bitterly, and he just looks smugly at you, grinning widely like an idiot. He was proud of himself. This bastard.

“Exactly, I don’t want to go there and see their annoying old wrinkled face. They changed the location last minute too, it’s not where we usually go,” he huffs, shaking his head.

“Where ?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, intrigued. It wasn’t common, so it seemed weird to you.

“Somewhere in Tokyo, around 20 minutes away from the campus,” he explains, shrugging, putting his hand in his hair.

“Then once you finish your meeting, and once I finish my mission, let’s go to the arcade,” you propose, deciding to cheer him up, and mostly wanting to spend time with him.

“Is it a date ? You charm me, honey...” he coos, winking at you behind his sunglasses, and you can’t help but giggle at his antics.

“Yeah baby girl, I’m a good girlfriend, aren’t I ?” you joke back in a teasing way, hoping to make him cringe, but that only fuels his amusement and eagerness.

“The best,” he drawls, charming, before continuing in a calmer manner, laying back in his seat, “then let’s go to your place after. I wanna eat fast food and binge watch the last episodes of the show we were watching last time.”

“Why my place ? It’s always my place !” you exclaim, faking the feeling of being offended.

“I like… almost live there, so your place it is,” he shrugs nonchalantly. And damn, he was right. 

“You should pay rent,” you add, huffing. 

“Me spoiling you with food and shopping counts as rent,” he replies confidently, giving you a look with his eyes that means business, and you can’t help but fluster slightly.

“Yeah sure-”

“Uno !” he suddenly cuts you by screaming the word. You open wide your eyes, horrified that you lost and didn’t realize he only had one card now.

“No !”

Quickly after, he wins. You are left defeated, and end up leaving annoyed as he on purpose teased you non stop, saying you just were a sore loser. Satoru could be the loveliest when he wanted, but the most obnoxious and infuriating person in the world as well. Yet, you still loved him for that.

Walking towards your mission, you sigh, needing to snap back of your thoughts and get concentrated and focus your mind on your task. Even if it was supposed to be only some low grades, you could never let your guard down.

And you were right for that. Because Satoru and you weren’t the only one that were going crazy after months of ‘dating’ and nothing happening. The elders weren’t happy at all that you both didn’t fulfill your duties ; marry and then produce heirs. Their old fashioned way of thinking was the way they thought was right. After seeing there was no progress, they decided to seriously act and change plans. You were useless in their eyes. For their sexist mind, if you were unable to be a good woman, becoming a wife and giving children to The Strongest, then you could die. After all, they just wanted for their strongest sorcerer to quickly create new soldiers (his children). 

Now, they had to get rid of you in a way or another, and on the other hand, to find someone more suited for the role of becoming Gojo’s wife. You were like a pawn, he was one too. The game didn’t play the way they wanted. Now, you were thrown in the trash.

Walking towards your mission was the steps towards your upcoming grave.

And Gojo walking towards his meeting with the higher ups, was actually his walk towards a closed destiny, and towards the new pawn that would be his supposed future wife. 

Truly, fake dating Gojo Satoru brought you bigger problems than you ever expected.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

Satoru was sitting in his car, parked some streets away from the place the meeting would normally be. He sighed, clearly not wanting to deal with any more bullshit the higher ups would give him. He groans as he tilts his head backwards, staring at the ceiling before pulling his phone off his left pocket. The home screen was a picture of you and him, one where his arm is around your shoulder, and his mouth biting your cheek as you laugh heartily. He chuckles slightly, staring at the screen like an idiot, as if it would give him some strength for what was about to come. He decides to send you a message, even though you still didn’t answer the last one he sent since you went to that mission thirty minutes ago. Obviously, you were busy. But Gojo was clingy, and had no real personal space with you.

Two minutes pass. You still didn’t answer. He decided it was surely and sadly time to get out of his car and meet the elders. He checks his watch : he was late. Who cares ? He shrugs and closes the door behind him before walking nonchalantly towards the building, hands in his pocket.

Once he stands in front of the location, he realizes it’s a restaurant. A fancy one that he already had to attend to once, for a gathering with some head clans. Alright, that wasn’t so weird, but still unusual to have the elders wanting to discuss with him in front of a meal. He enters, and is quickly greeted by a waitress that makes him follow her. He arrives in front of a door, as each room was separated to allow the clients to eat in privacy. He takes off his shoes and enters the private room, before stopping dead in his tracks.

“Oops, sorry miss. I got the wrong room. Enjoy your meal,” he says, flashing an awkward smile to the woman sitting in front of the table that had numerous plates full of food. But the woman elegantly raises her head and flashes him a smile. He ignores it and turns around, ready to leave.

“Gojo Satoru, it’s nice to meet you. This is not a mistake, we were meant to meet,” she simply answers in a calm voice while sipping on her tea. He raises his eyebrow, turning around to face her. She knew who he was, so that meant... He notices the type of cursed energy moving inside her body. She is a jujutsu sorcerer. But not a very strong one.

“I’m here to have a meeting with the higher ups, miss. Sorry, I can’t be your date,” he replies, tilting his head to the side to eye her down and analyze the woman sitting calmly, but something cunning emanating from her. He directly was on his guard, staying put on his feet.

“You are my date.” 

“I have a girlfriend,” he corrects immediately.

“Not anymore,” she whispers, glancing at him. He frowns, not liking at all where this was going.

“What do you mean ?” he snarls, stepping closer to loom over here.

“You don’t have a meeting with the elders, but a date with me. Pleased to meet you,” she explains in a soft voice, but the smirk drawing itself on the corner of her lips betrayed her calm figure. He frowns, all cockiness leaving his face to look at her emotionless. The higher ups had the fucking nerve to trick him, and they will pay for that. Did they think he was stupid ? Did they think they could control his life as they wanted ? Him having you as his girlfriend should have stopped them from trying to force him to meet possible arranged wives. But forced to notice, he was wrong. They barely lasted some months before going back to their bullshit and trying to force him to marry someone. He understood the reason why : since you and him decided to only ‘date’, and nothing more, they got impatient that nothing was happening like they wanted. So, they decided that your couple was now useless, and they wanted to replace you. That was predictable, now that he thinks about it. 

He sighs, and then she says her name. He directly recognizes her as the sister of someone he had to deal with for some business of the Gojo Clan. Least to say, this family was annoying to work with.

“Ok, what the fuck is going on ? Don’t tell me these old geezers lied to my face, and instead sent me on an arranged date ? Look, you are very lovely, but this won’t do. I already have a girlfriend,” he spats, annoyed now as his eyes portrayed the coldness of blue he only had when being mad. Which was rare.

“As I said, not anymore,” she corrects, a hint of arrogance in her voice.

“Aren’t you too confident ? Thinking you can take her place like that ?” he says threateningly, not wanting to joke around like he usually does. He had no time nor any patience for that right now. This really struck a nerve.

“No. It’s just how it is. The elders arranged this, as I will soon be your wife,” she shrugs answering that, sipping on her cup of tea before putting it down and looking back at him, clearly not intimidated.

“Excuse-me ?” he chuckles, offended. Wife ? Seriously ?

“An arranged marriage, if you prefer,” she adds unbothered.

“And you agree to that ?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Yes. It’s a dream to marry The Strongest and give him heirs,” she answers as if it was the most logical reply she could give him. Oh, this poor girl was brainwashed. For sure. 

“Look : you and I will never marry, and nothing of that shitty plan they try to arrange. If I had to marry someone, it would be my girlfriend, and nobody else. Yeah, understood ? Good. So, goodbye,” he ends up exclaiming before turning on his hills, opening the door of the private restaurant room to leave. He puts on his shoes in a swift move, before getting interrupted by her voice.

“You can’t marry someone that is dead.” Satoru freezes. What did she mean by that ?!

“Dead ?” he asks, unsure.

“Dead.”

He slams the door behind him, his blood turning cold. It didn’t take more than a second for Satoru to understand what was happening. He was far from stupid, after all. And he was used to the doings of the corrupted elders. The mission you got sent to was your grave. One meant to kill you.

His stomach drops, and he doesn’t waste any more time, trying to call you while he rushes towards the location of your mission. An abandoned hospital that was close enough of the campus to go there by walking : there was only one place possible. His heart quickens, but then stops when you don’t answer.

Fuck. Dread is written all over his face, and Gojo Satoru is panicking. Panicking like he never panicked before. He teleports, entering his car and rushing towards the road, not caring about the red lights. You could be dead right now, cold body covered in blood, alone and forever. No, no, no. He couldn’t accept it.

He never regretted more in his life the decision to have you pretend to be his girlfriend. It just confirmed that Gojo Satoru could never have the chance to fully love someone before getting all hopes destroyed, and them getting hurt because of him.

He prayed to Gods and Heavens that you were alright, believing in the faith that you were a strong girl that could defend herself even against death itself. His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, accelerating dangerously on the road, near causing many accidents.

Please, please, please. Be alright. 

His heart was beating so loudly that he could only hear the heavy throbs of it. Once he arrives at the location, he teleports inside the veil that you casted. If it was still up, you surely were still alive. But at what cost ? He promised himself that once he will have you back in his arms, safe and sound, he will avenge you, and make them regret what they did to you. He promised himself that he would never cause any hurt to you. He failed. And he promised himself that if it was the only right solution for you and your safety ; he would never see you again. Being close to him only brings you misery, that’s what he thought. Actually, he brought misery to anyone that got too close. Suguru was the proof, the one and only that he had to kill by his own hands because of his own failing.

He searched for your presence, ears ringing loudly and only having one goal right now : finding you.

He was as quick as light speed itself, dread eating him all over, like a plague consuming his body. He stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the left building, and found the walls of the destroyed courtyard covered in blood. Not human blood, but curses blood. Every single one of them exploded and shattered to dust in what seemed like agony, all around… you.

He murmured your name, eyes wide open, sensing you standing in the middle of your domain expansion. He entered it without any difficulty ; it was prone to crumble any second, feeling how your cursed energy was getting weaker each second that passed.

Trembling, scared, here you were, barely holding to life, standing in a sea of red in the strange calmness of your domain. The moment you feel a presence entering it, you try to see what or who it was, but your weak body only allows you to see blur. In an ultimate attempt to protect yourself, you lift your hand, ready to unleash your one last bit of cursed energy to destroy your opponent, even if you would die doing this.

Satoru rushes towards you, and as you are about to strike in a last breath, you feel strong arms surrounding you and cradling you like a broken doll against a chest.

“Y/n ! It’s me, it’s me. Everything is over, everything,” he whispers in a wavering voice, hugging you firmly. You recognized that familiar scent.

“Satoru… ?” you mumbled, panting and having a hard time inhaling. Satoru was beyond relieved, thanking the universe and thanking your resilience to having managed to survive. He couldn’t bear the idea of having to go to your funeral. Gladly, you were alive. Alive became his favorite word as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. Was he crying ? He didn’t know, didn’t have time to focus on himself when you were in the crook of his chest.

“You did so well. You killed all the curses. You survived. I’m so proud of you. Let’s get you home. Ok ?” The moment his voice murmurs softly in your ear these reassuring words, your body shuts down. Immediately. Your domain expansion disappears, the veil as well, and you simply faint for good in the arms of the person you loved the most, and almost died for.

Satoru kisses the top of your head, checking your vitals. That was bad. Very bad. He scoops you up, and doesn't wait any more minute, bringing you to the campus. His new priority right now : keeping you alive.

Killing the higher ups would come later. Even if it takes months to plan. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

“Gojo, she’s alright. It’s been days now. Let her sleep. I promise she will be able to go home tonight,” sighs the brown haired woman, taking off her gloves as she finished to check your vitals, looking at the white haired sorcerer sitting next to your bed in the infirmary of the school.

“I can’t, I have to make sure that she truly is safe,” he answers firmly, his gaze not leaving your peaceful face. You weren’t in a coma or anything, just sleeping. After the mission, Gojo brought you to Shoko, her having to directly perform urgent rct over your body before it would be too late. Since then, you stayed at the infirmary for monitoring, making sure you would soon be back as healthy as before. The first time you woke up, Satoru didn’t say much, only telling you that everything was fine, and explaining to you what actually happened.

But, he strangely was silent. Just staying by your side, barely talking to you and doing nothing aside from holding your hand, keeping you company. He clearly was lost in thoughts, and too tired to ask why he was like that, you stayed silent as well the following days. On this friday afternoon, once you would wake up from your nap, you would finally be able to go back to the usual. But what would be the usual if your relationship with your best friend, supposed boyfriend, became like that out of nowhere ? You were confused.

“Who would have thought you could care so much for someone to the point of not letting them breathe ? She’s fine. Drop it, geez,” adds Shoko, shaking her head and looking at Gojo’s back facing her.

“I have a heart, Shoko. I’m not as insensitive as you think,” he ends up answering more coldly than he wanted. She stares at him, realizing that he really wasn’t acting like usual. Normally, he would laugh it off. Not now.

“You only are for a very few people,” she continues more softly, and she was right. Gojo knew she was damn right. 

“Because I can’t become emotional for every person around me getting hurt and dying. In this line of work, it’s something way too common. If I got worried for everyone, it would never end. That’s how it is,” he explains sighing, squeezing your hand while talking. Gojo being Gojo, for the sake of his title and his duty, he couldn’t allow himself to get affected by his work. That was taking away a part of his humanity, but he couldn’t fight against it. After all, somewhere along the way there was a line he drew not as a human, but as a living creature.

“I know. Everybody becomes like that eventually. But it’s still shocking to see you acting this way. The last time I did see you like that, was with Geto. You... didn’t even want to let me autopsy his body,” she answers, recalling the very few moments in life she saw The Strongest crumbling, which was extremely rare. And what happened on the 24 of december, was something that Satoru himself didn’t want to talk about, because it would be too painful. 

“...” he doesn’t answer, keeping his gaze steady on your sleeping face.

“We still don’t know what you did with his body, after you killed him. But, I’m not forcing you to talk about it. So, I’ll let you be for now,” Shoko ends up saying more softly, giving him what seemed like an apologetic smile before walking towards the door. As she puts her hand on the door handle, she stops, hearing his voice.

“Shoko.”

“Yes ?”

“Let me deal with y/n once she wakes up. I want to be alone with her. I’ll bring her home myself,” he asks, more like orders, not wanting it to be another way.

“As you wish…” she whispers, and steps out of the room, leaving the two of you alone in the lingering silence of the infirmary.

Not so long after, you woke up from your nap. Gojo helps you sit down, even if you don't need any help, and you stretch.

“I’ll bring you home,” he simply announces.

“Will you stay at my place ?” you ask, unsure, trying to see if he would react like usual. Meaning he would cheerfully say it shouldn’t even be a question, and that your home was basically his home. Hell, he would even correct you saying ‘our place’. But, he does none of that. You frown at his lack of answer as he silently takes your bag that was on the chair some meters away.

“I’ll bring you home,” he repeats instead, and makes you follow him. You look disappointed, not liking what was happening. Why was he suddenly so distant yet so close ? Not leaving your side for days, but emotionally far away ?

The walk is silent, occasionally trying to make conversation, but it just ended up in a fail. Was he mad at you ? But why would he ? Once you arrive at your apartment, Satoru doesn’t even take off his shoes, staying at the entry. You frown, turning to face him.

“You’re good ?” he asks, looking at you as if to memorize your face one last time.

“Yeah, I am. Shoko healed me perfectly. I’ll probably eat something, I’m starving. Want me to order food for you too ? Some pizza ? We could watch a mo-” you start to propose, desperately trying to make it seem like everything was normal, silently begging him to accept and act like your best friend. Like the usual, normal.

“Y/n,” he interrupts you. You lift your head, and the look on his face makes your stomach drop. Pain and coldness was written all over his face. Why was he looking at you like that ? What the hell was going on ?

“Yes ?” you reply in a smaller voice, scared of what was about to come.

“I think we should stop seeing each other,” he announces, dropping it like a bomb. You swear you just felt your heart crumble into pieces. Damn pieces. 

“What ?” you stutter, voice cracking.

“It’s better like that, Y/n,” he says, unable to look anymore into your eyes, staring away. You frown, putting your hand over your chest, stepping closer.

“What the hell are you even talking about ? Are you serious right now… ?” You couldn’t believe it. That couldn’t be real. That was a living nightmare. No, no, no.

“I am,” he simply answers. 

“You- you can’t just break our friendship like that, after more than ten years being at your side !” you yell, breathing heavily, anger rising and blood boiling. You couldn’t just accept that. 

“I can, I’m sorry,” he whispers, jaw clenching and slowly looking back at you. He felt like dying when he saw the tears in your eyes ready to spill all over your pained face.

“No, you’re not sorry ! And what about this whole dating thing ?! That means we did this for nothing ? The higher ups will have the opportunity now to arrange a marriage and-”

“This will not happen,” he interrupts you firmly.

“But- and us ? Was my help faking being your girlfriend useless ?” you question, your voice breaking even more, feeling betrayed and as if your world was crumbling all around you.

“Look where it brought you, y/n. You nearly died because of me !” he snaps, raising his voice at you, which makes you flinch. Because Gojo Satoru never yelled at you before. Not since you first met him in highschool. And that was a long time ago, longer than a decade.

“It wasn’t your fault ! You did nothing wrong !” you scream back, not caring if your neighbors could hear you now. All that mattered was trying to arrange this situation, one that felt like you were doomed. 

“Asking you to pretend to be my girlfriend was a mistake,” he ends up saying, looking dead into your eyes. Your mouth is agape, your brows frowning, and you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. Air knocked out of your lungs.

“I don’t understand your problem here. If you want to stop acting like boyfriend and girlfriend, then there is no problem. End of the plan. But breaking our friendship over that ?!”

“You and I know that it wasn’t friendship anymore, since a long time,” he corrects, stepping closer. And the look in his eyes showed his inner turmoil, the tragedy happening in his head.

“I- Satoru, you are my best friend, I can’t lose you,” you end up whispering, unable to argue against his saying because you knew he was right. You try to touch him, but his infinity is on. His infinity is damn on. You can’t touch him. Can’t touch your clingy best friend, who once said he would rather die than not feel your touch. Can’t touch the person that couldn’t spend a day without being all over you. Wow, your world just shattered. Completely. 

“I can’t love you, y/n,” he whispers painfully.

“What are you saying… ?” you have a hard time pronouncing your words, tears rolling down your eyes pathetically, chest tightening and heart feeling like it stopped beating.

“We can’t continue like this. Because if we do, you’ll just get seriously hurt again. I can’t let it happen another time, not to you,” he shakes his head murmuring this.

“But Satoru, this was none of your fault !” you exclaim in an attempt to make him understand that whatever he was saying was just nonsense, a poor mistake.

“It was. If we continue what we have, you’ll hate me,” he steps back, and you can’t even stop him, as the invisible walls around him stop you from grabbing his hand. 

“Don’t say that, you know I would never- Satoru. Please, listen to me,” you beg, tears falling on the floor. 

“I don’t know how to properly love, y/n. I’ll just curse you. I already did with Suguru,” he whispers, putting his hand over his face, trying to hide how broken he is from doing this, from seeing you like this.‘This is my personal theory, but there’s no curse more twisted than love.’ That was the words he once said to Yuta, his student, around two years ago. He still firmly believed in them.

“No, don’t leave me,” you try to say in between choked sobs, your voice cracking in an attempt to sound less pathetic. It was a fail. 

“I’m sorry, it’s better like that,” he says before turning his back to you.

“You’re not sorry…” you fall on your knees, gripping your pants, looking at him leaving and closing the door behind him without one last glance.

“You’re not fucking sorry !” you scream one last time, in a desperate attempt to make him react, to make him come back. But he doesn’t.

Gojo Satoru was your best friend, supposed boyfriend. Not anymore. 

Almost fifteen years at his side thrown at the trash for a supposed “it’s better for you”.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

Weeks passed, months even. You and Satoru didn’t talk to each other again. You at first desperately tried to, but he ignored your texts, your calls, and even went on long missions abroad. The only thing you had left of him was his belongings at your place, which he never came to take back. You thought about burning them down, but you just couldn’t.

You tried to forget about him, but forgetting such a long friendship was impossible. It was like breaking your soul and throwing it in the void. You couldn’t, even if it felt like it. And it was hard to forget as well, when all you could hear was endless rumors going about arranged marriages with Gojo Satoru. But no one of them ended up being true. Against your will, you felt relieved. It meant the higher ups kept failing their attempts of trying to force him to fulfill his supposed duties.

But everything went quickly once bad things started to happen. Curses attacked the campus, breaking Tengen's barrier. Apparently there was a traitor in the school, the Tokyo one. Gojo and you became incredibly busy, that you barely had even time to rest and think about what happened in between you and him. 

Chaos came to life the day of halloween. Shibuya became hell on earth, and Gojo got sealed. He got damn sealed, for god’s know how long. Maybe forever, maybe until you die and everyone else dies.

Your world once more shattered, as well as the rest of Japan. Because Geto Suguru was back, even if apparently it wasn’t really him. 

Nanami died. Nobara was in between life and death, and many other sorcerers and innocent life died as well. But, you had an ultimate new goal, no matter how shattered you were after this war in between sorcerers and curses started. No matter what happened in between you and him, no matter how your relationship ended, you had to unseal him. You still firmly believed that he was the love of your life. And even if he wasn’t, he needed to get out of this damn cursed box.

The plan was on. And you weren’t alone in wanting this. Many were ready to sacrifice their life for the sake of unselling Gojo Satoru. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

When Satoru got unsealed, the first thing he hoped to see when getting out of it was Suguru and you waiting for him. But none of that. Instead, he was surrounded by chaos all around him. Kenjaku, this impostor, greeted him, and then Sukuna, possessing his dear little boy Megumi appeared. It was hell on earth, and you weren’t there.

Were you dead ? What happened during his absence while he was sealed ? He couldn’t fathom that you were gone, killed. Did his decision of getting away from you for safety went to waste once he got sealed ? 

Once things got calmer, preparing for the upcoming fight in December with Sukuna, Satoru heard about you. You were alive, and apparently you actively participated in the plan of unsealing him. He was relieved, you were alive, maybe not safe and sound, but alive. 

Alive became again his favorite word.

Even if not everyone was alive anymore. 

One thing was sure, he wanted to see you again. Because he knew that once his battle with Sukuna would arrive, he maybe would never be able to have you in his arms again, to hear your voice again, to laugh with you again. To damnation his decision of staying away from you. He just couldn’t anymore.

But first thing first, he needed to get rid of some pesky rats before going to find you, wherever you were.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

You were in an abandoned hotel, taking place here after what happened in Shibuya. After all, everything in Tokyo was abandoned with the war. Everyone got evacuated, or killed. Numerous places were left unsupervised, you took the chance to stay there, as the area around your original apartment was unsafe right now. Since Gojo got unsealed, which means three days ago, you barely went back to the campus, knowing he would be there training for his upcoming battle with Sukuna. You only went around it to help the remaining students, but nothing much. You were scared to see him again. Terrified. Even if the only thing you wanted was to take him in your arms, relieved that he was back, and not in this damned box. But before the Shibuya incident he stated that you and him should never see each other again. You didn’t dare to break that promise.

As you step out of the shower of the hotel room, changed into pajamas and sighing tiredly, someone knocks at your door. You freeze. Nobody knew where you were exactly, nor the building nor the number of the room. So who was that ? A curse ? Kenjaku ? Your blood runs cold and ready to strike, you open the door, preparing yourself to attack.

That maybe was worse than what you imagined.

“Satoru… ?” you whisper, not believing your eyes.

Here he was, breathing heavily, face and clothes covered in red blood, eyes boring into yours, trying to eat your soul.

“I killed the higher ups. All of them,” he simply says. His first words to you, after months of avoiding you, getting sealed and then getting unsealed, were that. 

You open wider your eyes, shock written all over your face, mouth agape. He did it. He killed them. You actually were happy that the jujutsu world finally got rid of these corrupted people. But that meant he had to put more sins over his shoulders, more duties to carry as The Strongest. Something you knew he promised to not do. Something he promised Suguru back in highschool.

“Yuta told me to stop bearing the burden of being a monster alone anymore. But there’s nothing that can be done about that. Back then I was left in the dust. I had to catch up,” he starts to explain, looking at you, and wiping some blood from his pearly white skin. You knew he was talking about Suguru when he deflected years ago.

“I had to do it too, because they were the main reason why I couldn’t love you freely,” he finishes, staring at you. You shiver head to toe, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I missed you, y/n. More than anything. I’m sorry for everything,” he continues, stepping closer to you, but you can’t seem to talk. He was sorry, damned sorry. You try to hold back a nervous chuckle.

“I heard you helped the students to unseal me. Thank you,” he adds, trying to make you talk, and truthfully wanting to thank you for what you did. You stiffen.

“I did,” you finally pronounce. Silence, seconds pass, where the both of you stare at each other. The hands of Satoru twitched, like he was holding himself back. He takes a deep breath.

“I want to take you in my arms and hug you until I can’t breathe. But I don’t want to stain you with their filthy blood,” he whispers, stepping closer, yet still not getting too close. His heart was aching for this, and you bite the inside of your mouth looking at him.

Without uttering a word, you approach him. His infinity directly turns off, allowing you to touch him. You unzip his stained jacket, revealing underneath a clean shirt. Without waiting, you take him in your arms. Satoru feels like he can breathe again, wrapping his hands firmly around your body and finally having you close to his heart.

God, he missed this, so so so much. He can’t believe he managed to survive this long without your touch, without your voice, without your jokes, without you. The only thing that kept him sane was staring at his home screen, or the folder of photos and videos he had of you and him.

It’s suffocating, his hug. Crushing you in his embrace, never wanting to let you go. He stopped himself from burying his face in your neck. If he did, he would put the blood on his cheeks everywhere. He didn’t think about cleaning himself up once he finished exterminating the higher ups. He just wanted to go see you immediately.

“I don’t want to stop, but please, let me go wash my face. I truly don’t want to put anything on you,” he whispers, slowly stepping back against his will.

“What if after this I don’t want to take you back in my arms ?” Lies. You were aching for more. You just wanted to somewhat get back at him. It was mean, but you thought he deserved it.

“Y/n..” he says desperately. You look away.

“Go wash your face before I make you leave,” you turn your back to him. Lies, again.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, trying to lighten the mood. Typical behavior of his, even if it wasn’t the right moment for jokes.

You hear him going towards the bathroom, turning on the water of the sink and washing his face. You look at the window, staying in front of it, letting your gaze linger on the destroyed streets of Tokyo.

When will peace be back ? Surely only once Gojo would fight with Sukuna. But, will he come back alive from this ? Your heart throbs at this idea. Even if the past few months were chaotic, your relationship destroyed, Satoru was still the man you had loved for almost fifteen years. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

You then see him in the mirror reflection, standing behind you. You slowly turn around to face him, and the look in his eyes makes you weak. Longing, yearning, loving, desperate.

“I said I couldn’t love you, it was a lie. I love you, y/n. More than myself,” he admits, stepping closer, slowly, scared to make you back down and go away.  Your eyes shine as he says the three words you longed to hear, dreamed about day and night, even after he left you.

“I said I didn’t know how to love. That was right. But I just understood that I didn’t need to know how to love for loving you. Because it just became natural, since it’s as easy as breathing. I love you, y/n,” he continues, carefully taking your hand in his, scared that you wouldn’t accept his touch. But you did. And he was glad, because here he was peeling all the layers around his soul, destroying the walls around him, and putting his heart on a silvered plate just for you. Something he never did before, to anyone.

“I love you, y/n,” he repeats for the third time, like a pleading, bringing you closer and kissing softly your hand. You look into his eyes, that had tears in them. Gojo Satoru was crying. In front of you. Vulnerable like an abandoned dog on the road.

“I don’t care if you don’t love me anymore, if you resent me, if you hate me. But please, just let me love you before it’s too late,” he begs, falling on his knees and hugging your waist, his head buried in your stomach. You look down at him, and your hand softly cradles his cheek. He raises his head, his eyes red from the tears, lashes wet, like pearls decorating his irises.

“Earning my forgiveness shouldn’t be an easy task. But I can’t deny how much I missed you, hoping for you to come back. And I can’t deny how scared I was when you got sealed. But now, you soon will have to go fight against Sukuna, and just the mere thought of you never coming back- I.. I can’t just not make the most of our possible last weeks together. I love you, Satoru. So much that it’s dangerous, because I could surely forgive anything you do, as long as you’ll come back to me,” you end up answering, voice shaking from the inner turmoil you had. 

Life is brought back to his eyes, and before you can even react, he is on you, kissing you senseless. He is back on his feet, hands cradling your face, lips crashed against yours and molding together. Air enters your lungs like a salvation. Your soul just got healed back by the loving touch of his lips. You gasp, before wrapping your arms around his broader shoulder, and you realize that since the last time you saw him, he gained muscles. His body has changed. What else changed about him ?

As if he would die without your lips against his, he continues to kiss you like it was the last time. You fall on the bed behind you, and he gets on top of you, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. His tongue swirls against yours, his left hand softly and gently caressing your stomach under your pajama shirt. You shiver at his touching, realizing how much you craved to feel his touch one more time.

You longed for this, and now you were having it. It was like a dream coming true inside this nightmare all around the two of you. But only this moment mattered right now, nothing else did. His burning fingers go higher, under your breast, and his knee slides in between your thighs to separate them, inching towards your core.

“I need you so bad, y/n,” he ends up saying, panting, his lips finding your neck and trailing burning wet kisses all over your sensitive skin.

“Me too- I can’t wait anymore,” you whisper in between a restrained moan as his knee presses against your clothed heat. You shudder, and his pupils blow when he hears you reacting to his touch like that. 

“Don’t say that to me or I will not be able to contain myself,” he murmurs, fingers brushing against your breast, lightly, like a feather. You bite your lower lip, and feel him sucking your neck, leaving a mark, before going down your collarbones.

“Then don’t. Don’t hold back, please,” you practically plead, he lifts his head to look at you in the eyes.

“Are you sure ?”

“More than anything,” you whisper against his lips when he kisses you again, his hand cupping your breast underneath your shirt, before unbuttoning it with his other. You let out a moan of pleasure, and he drinks it up happily, feeling like his heart would burst at finally being able to touch you like this. He dreamed of it, almost every night. It was sinful.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters, opening the shirt to reveal your naked torso, half lidded eyes staring at beauty itself. His breath is caught in his throat, and his growing desire becomes unstoppable.

“Don’t say that,” you answer, caressing his cheek tenderly.

“I mean it. If I had to die, I wish it would be in your arms, against your lips. For me, that is Heaven,” he ends up confessing, looking deep into your soul.

And he meant every word of that.

Now, Satoru couldn’t wait to finally become one with you. After more than a decade of yearning for this, he would make love to you like he always dreamed of. He didn’t care about the consequences of crossing that line anymore. If he had to be doomed for loving you, then so be it. He’ll gladly accept it as long as he’ll have you. 

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ 

Part 4 (final part) is out !

I bet you guys didn't expect this fic to suddenly turn so angsty (oops, my bad), but hey, I actually love to write Gojo's angst. Nah, don't worry, next part includes the smut, and I know a lot of you are waiting for it. It’s like an apology. Anyways, See you !💋

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