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ravensinthedaylight · 2 months

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the river (5) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter

masterlist

4.2k words

warnings: angst, fluff, this is very fluff heavy as a gift for me being slow and so angsty all the time, self destructive behavior, mentions of death/violence/trafficking, unedited, no use of y/n, Captiol brainwashing, my attempted fluff

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all for reading this long awaited chapter! I'm not great at fluff so it took me so much longer to navigate ideas that weren't heartbreaking but trust we have a lot to come 💋 as always feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all very very appreciated and my ask box is open, I adore hearing all your thoughts and ideas so so much. requests are open even if I'm like a snail with them. love y'all sm and thanks again 💋

Eventually they did in fact let you see Peeta, his own Capitol hijacking has been hindering the process more than your own. Finnick was glad that it might provide you some comfort, but it still hurts to think that you were more instantly open to talking to someone else then you were with him. Maybe there would always be someone sweeter, more patient, more calming than he was for you. Yes, Conway was gone, and Peeta, no matter what the waters said now, had Katniss, but who could say when all was said and done that there wasn't someone else out there for you to quell the turmoil. Finnick was just as hurt, just as bruised, you deserve someone who could devote themselves to you and that you wouldn't feel the need to attend to instead.

Despite this, maybe he could convince himself that when a love burned like yours did it was meant to be. It was meant to be for him, even if you were worthy of so much more. So he waited patiently outside of Peeta's medical room. They couldn't convince him to do any other duties, follow a schedule, or train. Not without you by his side.

The doctors had tried to debrief you about what Peeta was going through to which you were quick to remind them that you knew all about it since you were the one with him in the Capitol. Before finally they let you in, which Finnick couldn't help feeling antsy about. If Peeta had choked out Katniss, what would stop him from snapping at you as well? The domino effect could be treacherous to any progress made.

“Peeta." You said softly and he looked up, so frail, so unlike himself.

“Are you-" Knock knock knock knock knock. Your fist lightly on the doorframe. Peeta repeated the pattern on the sheets next to him before he seemed to relax. “They're keeping you locked up too?"

"Keeping myself locked up.” You were so vulnerable, so honest. Part of Finnick wished he could have been in the Capitol with you, that you would've instantly been like this with him, so he could've just comforted you without the roadblocks. “Wouldn't let me see you though.

Peeta seemed to get slightly agitated, “That's because she, Katniss, manipulated them! She-" Knock knock knock knock knock. The tapping of your knuckles halted him again and he repeated the pattern. It pained Finnick to know that you could communicate with Peeta, but not the one person who knew you inside and out, who would dedicate his life to memorizing each part of your story.

You pulled a chair forward, foot tapping, “So they've had you stuck in here, poking and prodding?” Peeta nodded robotically.

“He doesn't want you dead, it's all part of her plan, she's a mutt. Trying to tear everything apart.”

This was a bad idea, you'd feed into each other's delusions. Finnick wanted to beg the doctors to call the whole thing off. "The only one tearing things apart is me, that's why he wants me dead. Not because of her, she's leaving for District 2 anyways, if she wanted to hurt you she couldn't." You're getting weepy, knees pulled up to your chest in the chair. “Peeta we said we'd remind each other of the truth, the only thing we have to be sure of.”

Peeta began shaking his head,"That was before they showed me the truth, we only have to worry about yours now.”

"Peeta-”

"Finnick doesn't want you dead, he'd never want you dead."

“Peet-"

He'd become snappier, “We have to say it."

“Katniss doesn't want you dead, she would never want you-"

“No, that's a lie, it's not real. They didn't show you the truth like they showed me!" He was getting more irritated, moving around more.

“If we freak out they'll just sedate us again, I can't be sedated again Peeta. Gives me too much time to think.”

"They'll sedate us because of her, I'm too close to the truth, they don't want me to tell the truth about her. She's a mutt!” He was so earnest that it broke Finnick's heart, but he was also relieved that they hadn't done whatever number they’d done on Peeta exactly to you. There was fear, uncertainty, distrust, left with you, but Peeta seemed almost unrecognizable in his hatred of Katniss.

You buried your head in your knees, hitting your forehead with your hands as your head shook. “Katniss loves you, Finnick loves me, he wants me alive, she wants you alive. Real, real, real.”

Your muttering was drowned out by Peeta’s insistence of otherwise, “She's a mutt! A mutt! A mutt! A mutt!" The doctors took this as their queue to enter, before he became even more hysterical in his persistent utterings. You were reluctantly guided out of the room so they could calm him down and for a second you just stood on the other side of the door. Glancing back at Peeta as you silently contemplated something, brow furrowed. Finnick didn't want to interrupt your thoughts so he quietly observed, skilled fingers once again unknotting the rope.

“Finnick!" He eagerly met your eyes when you said his name so fondly and was shocked to find that you almost instantaneously had your arms around him.

“Hi, sweet girl." It had been so long, but having you initiate something as small as a hug made him feel like he was in heaven. The way your hands crept up to cradle his face soothed the constant heat he radiated, and he could see more of a sparkle of you.

You stayed like that for a while, his arms wrapped securely around you. It was so right, everything was so slowly slipping back into place. “You're here, you're real, you don't want me dead." Your voice was slightly muffled, the sound sending vibrations through his body. The way it was supposed to be.

"I'm here, I'm real, I don't want you dead.” Finnick affirmed, lips pressing against the top of your head.

“Here, real, don't want me dead."

“Here, real, don't want you dead, sweet girl." You slowly nodded before pulling away which he hated, the moment your touch was gone he longed for it. He'd been starved of it for so long.

“They should have let me see him before, to remind me what they do." Tears were bubbling up in your eyes once again and Finnick wondered if you would let him wipe them away like you used to. “I know they're in my head, I know that, I just don't even know the fake and the real anymore."

“I'm right here to help you, I promise I'll always be around. I've got you, even if you forgot who I was or hated me, because I know it's still you. My girl, my wife, my gorgeous, gorgeous wife.”

"Finnick, I love you."

“I love you too." You were back in his arms, sending a pleasant buzz of happiness through them. “More than you know." Everything about you was all consuming, your smell, the feeling of your skin, the chill of it on his, the way you hugged that nobody else could ever compare with.

No, nevermind, this is what the universe meant to happen. You fit too perfectly in his arms for it to be any other way. He could stand here for eternity holding you without any regrets.

“Finnick?" He hummed out a response, he was too lost in the feeling of you. Of how open you were being right now and reaching for him first. “Do you think we'll be able to go home?"

Home. The home where you'd made the bed, where you'd arranged flowers and decorated with the seashells you'd both collected, where his fishing rod was so carefully placed in its spot every day, where every few months you'd pick out a new color and the two of you would paint a room. Well until you'd so much as yawned and he'd insist you sit down and just look pretty for him instead while he finished. Home. Was it even still around? The rest of your home maybe. The beaches you walked, the hot sand where you'd both lay in, talking for hours, the waters that comforted you both. Home. You. If you were here anywhere could be home, but not the same home where you'd both created an illusion of bliss from the harsh realities by playing house in it.

“Yeah. When this is over. Maybe not the house, but District 4, home." In the end all he needed was you to have some semblance of that, but being where it all began certainly wouldn't hurt.

“Finnick?"

“Yeah, sweet girl?" He moved his head to look at you, into your eyes where he could see the whole universe. For the first time in what felt like an eternity your lips were on his, it was like starlight was bursting through his body. He was endlessly proud of you for hugging him, kissing him, but he was occupied with the way his heart was racing like he was a teenage boy all over again. He reveled in the feeling of your lips on his, the taste of them. The way you made his entire body light up with life and joy was unmatched. Slowly you pulled yourself away from his lips and he swore he could kiss you forever. “I really do love you and I'm sorry that I'm not the person you need me to be. I don't want to be a guessing game or all over the board, I really do want to trust you.

Finnick pulled you in closer before moving his hands to carefully hold the sides of your face, "Hey, it's okay, angel. You're exactly the person I need you to be, the person I love. I don't expect you to trust me right away, I'm willing to work and fight for it. Look at you, honey, you've already come such a long way already and I'm so proud of you, you're so strong.” He felt freer, like he could trust how he read you. So he allowed himself to place tiny kisses around your face. Enjoying the way your skin felt against his lips, how soft it was.

“You're too sweet to me."

"No, I just give you the love you deserve and tell you the truth. You're too harsh on yourself.”

"Agree to disagree.” There. There you were. The way it made him want to leap with joy, he was sure his eyes lit up when he smiled, a grin bearing his teeth, as he chuckled and quickly kissed you again. He missed every nuance of you incomparably and each time he saw a sliver return it was like a reward for his persistence.

“You can't disagree with a fact."

“Then stop disagreeing."

“You're so ornery."

“That's a terrible accusation to make about your wife." His wife. You said it yourself, and it was true in your souls and the sea. It still made him giddy though because it meant you were acknowledging it as more than something people told you that you were. You were his wife, he was your husband, what a wonderful way for things to be.

“It's not an accusation, as your husband I know, for a fact, that you are guilty." A kiss to your cheek, “Guilty." A kiss to the other cheek. “Guilty." A kiss to your forehead, he couldn't get enough of kissing you. One taste, one reminder, and he had no choice but to dive back in.

“Well my husband missed a spot.” You'd pulled one of his hands away, playing with his fingers.

Finnick's brow scrunched together in faux concern, “Where? Here?" He kissed your nose.

Your nose wrinkled and so dramatically your eyes rolled. “No."

“What then? Here?" So close, as he pressed his lips to the side of your mouth.

“So close to being on target.” You shook your head.

"Here?” Before he could move his lips to the other corner of your mouth, you used your free hand to pull his face closer and do it yourself. The intricate dancing of your lips only interrupted by a heavy handed cough which turned out to belong to Plutarch.

“Not to interrupt, although it'll definitely help, President Coin and I would like to talk to you both."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"I'm not ready to die.” You whispered in the dark of the night, cold body pressed against Finnick’s in the silken Capitol sheets.

“You're not going to die, angel, don't talk like that." He moved to find your eyes in the darkened room, to try and communicate with his own. "I'm not going to let that happen.”

"You don't know what'll happen in the arena, you can't control that. Remember the year the avalanche fell? Or when the rain was acid? Finnick, I'm gonna die, I don't wanna die yet.” He was quickly moving to wipe away the tears cascading down your face and rubbing circles in your back to try and relax the way you were shaking.

"That's good because you aren't going to die in there. Come on, sweet girl, we already have a plan, don't we? You're so smart, you can do this. And we're gonna go back home and be together, make up for lost time. Promise.” He was holding back his own tears, you needed him strong.

"Don't promise me things you can't keep.” He'd keep it, he had to keep it. "I don't know if I can do it, Finn, I can't kill him, he's my best friend.”

"You don't have to kill him, he'll keep you safe and someone else will do it, okay? Sacrifice or something, just don't worry about having to kill. Focus on the strategy and you've got this.”

"It's terrible for me to even have thought about lying to him like that. How am I supposed to keep that up?”

He firmly grabbed your face to steady it, "You have to in order to survive. Everybody wins differently and it'll work for you. I need you to win, sweet girl. I could barely live knowing you were alive but that I couldn't be with you, I don't know if I could knowing you were…” He choked on his own, held back tears, gulping them down. “Your family needs you, the money could stop your mom from ever being sick again. You can't focus on him, just yourself right now. I'm so proud of you for coming up with a plan like that in the first place because it'll keep you protected as long as possible."

"If I win, you'll stay with me? I can't survive if I'm supposed to go back alone, I can't do it." You were hiccuping on your constant stream of tears.

Finnick's fingers softly began tracing around your face, “Of course, angel. I'm never gonna leave your side. Gonna stay with you forever, love you so much.”

"Promise?” You sniffled.

"I promise.” He pulled you further into him, your arm laying across his chest and you buried your face into the side of it.

“Missed you." Your voice vibrated through his chest and it made him feel like he was radiating sunlight.

“Missed my sweet girl so much, was always looking out for you though, don't want you to think I ever stopped."

“I know. No matter what you said I always knew.” Your legs intertwined with his.

"I'm sorry I said that, I should never have said that. Didn't mean it and it wasn't true, I am so, so sorry, angel. So sorry.” He could feel the tears coming, now inescapable. You could die, you really could, and it would be in a universe where he broke your heart, said things that could tear it to shreds, and never got to show you how much he really loved you to make up for it.

"It's okay.” You said weakly. Always masking your true feelings, trying not to hurt him. You were too sweet, he was addicted to how sugary it was.

“No it's not, I know that. It hurt you, it hurt me, and I'm sorry. You didn't deserve it and I love you so much. In every lifetime I know I must be searching for you.”

"You found me and I love you. I've always loved you.”

Maybe in another life he has been Orpheus and Hades was still punishing him by always keeping you both in a constant loop of tragedy. How could you love someone so much, yet the universe be taking every turn possible to tear holes into your happiness?

He hated seeing Conway think he was the one for you. The way it seemed like he truly believed you both were soulmates. But Finnick pitied him too because there was nothing he could do to save him, he didn't deserve to die, but he has to save you. There was no other option but to save you. He'd already begun contacting the highest paying contacts who would funnel money into his sweet girl in exchange for his time, which he would happily give for you to be alive. He could easily focus on the idea of finally being able to be happy with you to power through all of it. To others he spoke endlessly of your praises from day one, how effortlessly charming you were. Panem wanted entertainment and you could certainly hold your own on screen. You didn't need to know the lengths he would go to ensure your survival, he needed you to focus on your own plan.

He needed you to convince him to be jealous, that you loved Conway romantically, at least a little bit, that way all of Panem would buy into it. Who could resist sponsoring a tale of tragic love? It would all be worth it when you could be in his arms for the rest of time. He was sure he could help you overcome any hurdles from being a victor because anything was better than a world where you were dead.

So he couldn't stop the anxious knot on his stomach, the way his heart dropped, his fists clenched, and the tears welled when he watched you through a screen rising up into the arena. The moment it was fully on screen he'd already developed a list of potential environmental threats and what you'd need to find. It was sickening to hear the countdown, to know that there was nothing he could say to you or do except get more sponsors. None of which was helped when the time was up and the wretched female tribute from District 8, he knew he shouldn't be judging her when he'd want you to do the same to survive, but he couldn't help it, had taken it upon herself to tackle you. Finnick could swear he saw his life flashing before his eyes as he watched her hands curling around your neck and he'd never felt so helpless in his short life.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“I promised you a big wedding, with any dress you wanted, a real ring. You deserve more than a propo wedding from District 13." Finnick exclaimed, leaning back in his chair as his hand held yours.

“She can have a dress and a ring, but it will also help the cause!" Plutarch smiled trying to reason with him.

"Well, the details will be figured out later down the line. Right now we just need to know if the two of you are in agreement.” Coin clarified. That made it worse, the first time had been in desperation so you hadn't been privy to the proper wedding things, but now it would be expected all over again.

“Finnick, we have our whole lives to get a ring and anniversaries or vow renewals. This is fine." You smiled slightly, trying to push away tensions.

“See!" Plutarch was too excited.

“You deserve more than fine."

You stared at him fondly for a while and he hoped you understood it wasn't that he didn't want the legal marriage, he just wanted you to get the wedding you'd dreamt about. He despised the idea there'd be yet another ceremony that wasn't exactly what you wanted. “I'll get married for the propo-" You held up a hand before Plutarch could add his piece, looking towards President Coin. “If I can have a dress, music, dancing, and as close to the traditional ceremony from home as we can do.”

"We'll see what happens and what we can do.” Coin said she was too even and didn't seem at all like she planned on allowing half of it.

"No, I'm saying if I don't have it then I don't want to do it again. Watching two people sign a marriage certificate won't inspire anyone, so it serves no purpose." You shrugged, “Finn, is there anything else you want?"

You squeezed his hand, “No, I just want you to be happy with it. I wish it could be perfect for you, the type we used to talk about."

“That's okay, things rarely turn out the way we want them too. You being there and having as much of a proper ceremony as possible this time, is good enough for me.”

“In District 13 we value practicality, this is a time of stress, could be perceived as extravagant." Coin reasoned, he'd despised her from the beginning. Her eyes were too cold.

"It's a wedding, Coin! To show them that we are doing well, a little extravagance drives this point home.” Plutarch argued.

"I don't want something extravagant like the Capitol, not even a new dress, just something I chose.” Years of the Capitol playing dress up with you made both of you sick of the way each outfit had meticulously designed to show you off.

“Our traditions aren't that way either." Finnick resented the idea that wanting what would have been considered a relatively normal ceremony at home could be dismissed as too lavish here. “We don't need much."

“Yes, have them give us a list of the needs and then you and I will figure out all the smaller pieces to really make the propo." Plutarch nodded along.

Coin stared long and hard, it unsettled Finnick. She wasn't the type of freezing you were, with you it was like the perfect companion to his heat, with Coin it felt blistering. “Okay, give us a list."

Finnick was quick to grab the pen and paper, “The children's choir for the song."

“A children's choir?" Coin sounded unamused.

“Yes, we'll teach them the song. We know it and it's important." You chimed in.

Plutarch kept smiling, “Children! The future, a long lineage to support freedom, it's symbolic as well." Finnick couldn't help but feel glad that the man was on their side and finding ways to prove their wants.

“A musician, music’s important." Finnick continued, “Some sort of net to cover us. Salt water. She picks out her own dress. An officiant."

“If there's no one from our district that's okay, but there's a certain way it's done back home and so if we can't be there I need at least the feeling of it." You said and Finnick rubbed circles on the top of your hand.

“Is that all?" Coin’s voice was too smooth, too without fault to feel human.

“They need a cake." Plutarch interjected.

“If there's a cake then Peeta has to make it. He's good at it and it'll help him focus on something else." You scooted further backwards into your seat.

“Brilliant! It'll show Snow that Peeta is well enough, regardless of the hijacking, to do something like that."

“Fine." Coin relented in her icy tone. “Is that everything?"

You nodded slowly before looking at Finnick, "I think so?”

"Yes, that's all we need.” He affirmed, smiling as he gazed back at you. “All the small details belong to you."

And as you two were leaving he couldn't help but smile when you grabbed this hand and told him, "Now all I need from you is a ring."

The two of you agreed to fall back into the normal schedule of District 13 only if it was aligned. Each hour, each table, all of it to ensure any breakdowns he'd be there for you. Until the wedding you'd stay in the hospital wing so the doctors could also be on the lookouts for any moments where the good days began to get so difficult.

Finnick didn't care about the bad days though because for every one step back you seemed to take three steps forward in your progress. He would keep taking it all for you even though the continuing work for the rebellion would threaten that stability. All the struggles had to be worth it in the end, as long as you were both again able to just be in the warm sands of home in the arms of one another. Where the wind and water had always intended you to be, even if it was volatile enough to sweep you away.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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ravensinthedaylight · 3 months

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I want Greta Gereig and Francis Lawrance to direct Shatter Me movies/tv show please I beg

#shatter me #greta gerwig

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ravensinthedaylight · 4 months

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the lakes (12) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter

masterlist

7.9k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, extreme mental health issues, suicidal ideations, gore/violence/death, self-hate, allusions to trafficking, use of explicit language, more angst, mentions of vomiting, dissociation, terms of endearment, unedited, no use of y/n, a codependent couple with a shared savior complex, paranoia

When you'd realized the monkey mutts had stopped where the beach began you wanted to collapse into the sand in relief. All you could do was stare on as Peeta tried to comfort the Morphling woman who'd sacrificed herself for him before her body was raised from the waters. Even if Plutarch was supposedly in on the plan, it seemed like the arena couldn't wait to kill you all off as soon as possible. The conversation switched to finding food, another thing your brain couldn't care less about. You supposed you should be from all the running, fighting, and sweating, but you just had a huge pit in your stomach as you thought about how Finnick could have died not long ago.

It had always been a possibility that you were very consciously aware of, but the imminent threat wasn't really present. You had no qualms that he would be able to protect himself, yet he hadn't been able to when the fog came rolling in. Well, he would have been able too if hadn't come to Peeta's rescue, but to get out, that was a requirement. Adrenaline has kept you going after that, when the monkeys attacked, but the dread filling you now was like lead.

“Hey," One of Finnick's warm, calloused hands cupped your face, “What's going on, sweet girl?" His face had that endearing always somewhat cocky smirk on it that was a permanent source of comfort in your life. But you just stared at him, at those ocean eyes you would drown in if given the chance. The look in his eyes shifted to one of higher concern, “Are you hurt?" He looked up and down your figure, looking for sounds, tilting your head to see the back, looking for signs of infection and grew more concerned when he found nothing to send off alarms. “Angel, you gotta tell me what's wrong." He urged.

You tried to blink yourself out of your stupor, "Nothing just wanna be with you.”

"You are with me.”

"Yeah I know.” He looked at you suspiciously, but knew better than to push. You grabbed this hand and he squeezed it, pulling you along as he went on his search for oysters. When he was sure he found a spot and began his digging you sat down in the water. Letting the soft waves ripple across your legs, if you closed your eyes you could pretend to be home again, this was so similar.

“I'd never leave you alone, you know?" Finnick's voice brought you back from the fantasy and you looked at him quizzically. He was still digging through different areas, of course the oysters were in such unnatural places, that was a reminder of how fake the fantasy was. "I'd always come back to you. You don't have to worry about me leaving you behind, or making you feel abandoned.” You looked away, staring at the glistening waters once again. There was no words you could think of to say, you wondered if you were still in shock, it felt nothing like how it had been described, but maybe this was all some weird, fucked up trauma response the universe had left you with as further punishment. Your mind was blank of anything other than how he, your amazing, smug, caring, generous, loving Finnick could actually be taken from this world and it would keep on spinning without him. Then his hand grabbed yours once again and he effortlessly pulled you from the water to walk with him back to Katniss and Peeta.

You laid your head on Finnick's shoulder as everyone began to eat. He opened one of the oysters up and offered it to you, but you just shook your head. There was no room for hunger, no room for anything except trepidation.

He shook his head back at you, “You need to eat." Finnick offered it back to you, he was so bossy and it made you love him even more.

“I'm not hungry, Finn." You knew you were exposing yourself with the nickname, which you only used when you felt most vulnerable, but it slid off your tongue so easily in the moment.

“You're gonna talk to me now?" He asked playfully, trying to lighten the load. You scowled at him, lightheartedly elbowing him in his side and he laughed.

“You're so mean to me." You burrowed your head back into his shoulder.

He scoffed, “I just put all my effort into a monologue of my devotion to you and then you decided staring at the waters which are in front of us all the time was more interesting.”

He was right of course even if it was all in jest, but you weren't going to let him win regardless of that fact. “It was hardly a monologue-" He turned to you abruptly, you frowned when your head lost contact with your shoulder but he grabbed your hands in his.

“I don't understand why you have cared about and loved me so deeply, except in the way that I know that's how I feel about you. You being here is the bane of my existence because I know that there isn't a day I could live without seeing your smile or sweet domesticity. You don't understand why I want to protect you so badly, but it's the same way you want to protect me. There isn't a universe where I could leave you when I know you need me, I married you as a promise that I would always return to you, protect you even if you're stubborn and here anyways. Death couldn't part me from a world that you were still in.” His sea green eyes were so serious and it did reverberate within your heart, but you still let yourself laugh.

"You are such a sweet-talker.” You announced with an eye roll, knowing he was right about how you felt. Except maybe selfishly if death parted the two of you, the only assumption you had made was he'd find someone else, some other smarter, braver, prettier partner who only couldn't compare to you in their adoration of him, but maybe that was a stretch as well.

“And you are impossible to please." He quickly packed your lips which left your yearning for his honey-dripping lips for seconds longer, if you suffocated with them on your own it would be the happiest you'd ever be. “Now eat, my love." You could melt into the sand thinking about how this man would pour out a heartfelt monologue just for you to leave your head long enough to eat, he was perfect, there would never be anyone else like him, and there never had been. He was it for you.

Screams interrupted your thoughts and you instantly stood up, “That's new." Peeta said as he rose as well, you all stood, staring across the beach where water seemed to be overflowing a portion of the jungle. Flooding that rushed from the trees and was so tall it was as high as the Cornucopia that bounced against, leaving large waves to rush up your feet. A drone came to pick up a body and it solidified in your brain that regardless of what Plutarch had planned these were never meant to be long Games, nor particularly violent with all the events occuring.

“Someone's here." Katniss said sharply, quickly pulling out an arrow, ready to shoot. You looked at the figures approaching from the jungle, not too far away. The aggressive motions of one of the figures nearly instantly told you who it was.

“Johanna." You whispered out and then Finnick was running forward.

“Johanna!" He shouted, catching her attention. You followed after him as she yelled back at him. Beetee and Wiress instantly run into the water when you realize Johanna’s figure was so obscured because she was covered head to toe in blood.

“Oh my god, what got you?" You asked, there was no way that much was hers or even someone else's. It was clotted in her hair, her skin, each piece of fabric.

“We were all the way, deep into the jungle where I thought it was going to be safe. That's when the rain started, I thought it was water, it turns out to be blood. Hot, thick blood, coming down. It was choking us! We were stumbling around, gagging on it blind.” Johanna signs through her explanation, ignoring Wiress’ mutters of tick, tock, tick, tock. Which you push away as well as just Wiress being Wiress. “That's when Blight hit the forcefield, he wasn't much, but he was from home.”

"What's wrong with her?” Katniss asks about Wiress, still muttering.

“She's in shock." Beetee is washing the blood of his glasses in the sea water. “Dehydration isn't helping, do you have fresh water?"

“We can get some."

Wiress is clinging to Johanna, desperately repeating her mantra. Who's trying to shove the older woman off, for most of you this is just the dynamic that's been accepted. You've each accepted a role to maintain relationships with one another, Wiress the crazy one, and Johanna the aggressive one. Katniss is put off and runs to Johanna, ready to fight.

“Hey what're you doing?" Johanna yells, Finnick trying to pull her away as you try to get between her and Katniss. “I got them out for you!” They're finally ripped apart when Peeta has his arms around a visibly confused Katniss. "Let go of me, Finnick!”

"Let's just go get you cleaned off.” You tilt your head walking with her and Finnick into the water. "I'm sorry about Blight.”

"Yeah.” She says gruffly as she dunked her head into the water, blood instantly beginning to spread into the once clear waters.

"And I didn't really get to thank you for saving me earlier, so thank you, Johanna.”

"Well I'm sure he would've killed me himself if I hadn't.” She nodded her head at Finnick. “Better go make a better impression with the Girl on Fire over there." She rolled her eyes, stalking over in that direction.

“Deep down she appreciates a thank you." Finnick's wrapped his arms around you from behind and you sway in the water. You hummed in agreement, just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. What you would give for this to be the two of you in your kitchen back home is immeasurable as well as the things you would do to get that back.

“Were you serious though?" You blurt out, forcing yourself to acknowledge your feelings with him. There's a beat which you figure must be confusion as he tries to figure out what you're referring too. Before you have a chance to add on, he'd seemingly figured it out though.

“Of course I was serious. You don't have to worry because you're not gonna get rid of me that easily, angel." He chuckles, his lips pressed to the side of your head. You nod slowly,

“Thank you." You mumbled out, embarrassed that you'd even let the anxiety take over, but also not completely convinced. It felt shameful that no amount of words or actions was seemingly able to convince the deepest parts of your soul of anything but the worst.

“It's a clock!" Katniss yelled out catching everyone's attention, she helped Wiress out of the water where they've been sitting and began walking towards the Cornucopia . “This entire arena seems to be laid out like a clock, with a new threat every hour, but they stay only within their wedge.” Katniss explains and you all follow her, "It all starts with the lightning, then the blood rain, fog, monkeys, that's the first four hours. At 10 that big wave points from over there.” She points forward, Wiress stops walking. As if she's cautious of something.

“Wiress, you're a genius." Finnick smiles as you all keep trekking forward.

“The tail points at 12." Peeta observes when you reach the shining Cornucopia.

“That's where the lighting strikes at noon and midnight.” Katniss further explains.

“Strikes where?" Beetee asks, holding his coil of wire close.

“That big tree." She points once more and Beetee seems pleased, Wiress sits down on the edge of the rocks murmuring a nursery rhyme to herself.

"Great job, Wiress. We'll try and listen more next time.” You patted her shoulder before following the rest of the group to where a circle is being drawn out in the sand. Dividing it up in the clock like sectors of the arena. Trying to find out what comes next in each portion of the arena.

“It doesn't matter as long as we steer clear of whichever sect is active, we'll be safe, yeah?”

" Relatively speaking.” Finnick nods along and then Wiress' ambience of nursery rhymes is quiet and she gasps. Your head shoots towards where she would be and there's Gloss, knife in Wiress' chest. Before you'd even had a chance to react Katniss’ arrow had pierced through his chest, you'd no clue where she'd come from, but you could hear a sound of outrage from Cashmere. You followed the sound and saw her lunging forward, blindly trying to avenge her brother. Without a second thought you'd shoved Katniss out of the way and a knife was flying out of your hand into Cashmere's heart. Her head hit the ground and that dreadful buildup of guilt was returning. She'd always been kind to you, there were amicable jokes and small complaints to one another at parties. An understanding that you'd struggled through the same, ever present issues and now you were once again the person cutting that life short after allowing a bond to be created. But you had to keep Katniss safe, to get her out of the arena, regardless of the consequences.

The Career pack had seemingly crept up on all of you, Finnick and Peeta were fighting off the attacks of Brutus and Enobaria. Your next knife barely missed Enobaria as she fled to the other side of the Cornucopia, Katniss’ arrow doing similarly with Brutus. Peeta tried to run after them, even if people talked about him like he was the weaker one, you'd seen from the way he trained with Brutus that it was anything, but true. Finnick knew that regardless of Peeta's strength he needed to be protected, kept alive, so he blocked him from the chase. Katniss; however, did try to follow after them, make sure the two were gone, Johanna followed behind. Under no circumstances could you let the Mockingjay get hurt, Peeta was because of that, but she was the one you'd been instructed to get out.

You looked over at Finnick, trying to communicate with him that you'd be following and he gave a curt nod. Only a few steps in though you were completely thrown off your balance, your brain started buzzing. You weren't sure what was going on except that your hands were desperately searching for crevices in the rocks to hold onto. The force of the wind whipped at your skin so hard it genuinely hurt and your fingers tried not to slip on the wet rocks. It was spinning, the Cornucopia was spinning around at full force, trying to throw you off, you tried to calm down. Focus on seeing if you could spot Finnick through the water sprays and the way it hit your face in harsh droplets. It wasn't that different from being on a boat, crabbing when the weather got difficult, being tossed around. Maybe if you shut your eyes that's what you could imagine this was, but then your hands were slipping and you were trying to force your body to stay still. Fingers blindly searching for another crevice, rocks scratching at them as you tried to dig your fingers into the rock. Body sliding down, it didn't matter that you could swim, if the impact was too harsh you could go unconscious on impact and no amount of experience in the water could save you from that.

Finnick would be okay though, if anyone was fine it would surely be him. He'd know exactly where to place his grip, he'd be strong enough to hold on, he could probably hold onto someone else too. Those thoughts are quickly cut short when you hear yourself screaming as something, something sharp, has lodged itself into your back. Breathe, you tell yourself digging your fingers into the rock deeper. Something is tearing into your back, the pressure of the wind definitely isn't helping, and you're barely able to focus on keeping hold of the slick rocks. Through the wind you can hear more screams, shouts, too obscure to make out who the belong to, but it reminds you that you need to survive long enough to rescue Katniss, you need to keep holding on.

Finally, the movement is slowing down, at least you think it is, maybe your perception of speed has just changed. By the time the Cornucopia comes to a stop you still feel dizzy, like a phantom of the spinning. When your brain stops buzzing the pain in your back is worse than you expected. It's torturous to try and stand, but you bite your lip, trying not to groan as you stand. Your legs are wobbly at first and then you hear Finnick call your name.

“Finnick there's something in my back." He's running towards you, eyes full of concern. Your taking deep breaths to try and move through the pain, “I need you to take it out."

Soon he's behind you and before you can say anything more his hand grabs yours from behind, "This is gonna hurt a lot-”

"Don't tell me, just rip it out, like a bandaid.”

"Angel, I can't do that. I'll do it as fast as I can, but I can't just tear it out without causing more damage." His fingers are rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

You're crying a little and even though it causes more pain you laugh a little, “It's one of those stupid scalpel chains isn't it?"

“Yeah, sweet girl, squeeze my hand as hard as you need too." You're nodding, putting the free arm to your mouth to try and muffle yourself if you scream at all. Trying not to bite when you realize this is just as excruciating as the fog had been, fingernails digging into Finnick's hand as he pulls out each piece of the chain. “I've got you, angel, it's okay." By the time all the pressure from the chain has left your back you feel faint. “There we go, all done, you did such a good job." There's no chance to acknowledge him when you're letting yourself run to the edge so you can hurl into the water.

You force yourself to keep standing, “How bad is it?"

“Just deep enough to stick, but you're gonna be okay.” Finnick helps you steady yourself, avoiding the tender wounds on your back.

"Let's just get what we need and get off this bloody island." Johanna says and everyone complies.

“I can carry you, if you want." Finnick offers, already helping you across the rocks.

“I can walk, Finnick, I'm sure soon enough we'll be hit with something else that gives me enough adrenaline that I won't even feel it." You shrug, trying to force yourself to have good spirits. “And I still think hypothermia was worse so-"

He lets himself laugh, shaking his head, “You say that about everything."

“Because it's true! I was so cold that I felt like I was on fire and I was seeing things, I'm sure my back can take a few hits."

"Okay, angel, whatever you say.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You don't know how long had passed since they stripped you of your wet, muddied, bloodied clothes, or since they injected you with something that made you pass out until you woke with seemingly no injuries to remind you of the past except the stitches in your side. You do know that now they've allowed you rest, before you're thrust back into the Capitol to be seen, to be crowned. The blankets felt like the softest thing to ever grace your skin and the mattress itself is a blessing, but you can't appreciate it when your eyes bore into the wall, guilt infesting your bloodstream.

Light floods into the room and you fear that you've been lost in your head for so long it's already time for them to play dress up with your lifeless body. But his scent is something you've always known instantly, saltwater, sand, the smell of home. You don't even look at him, there's no point, you need the darkness to engulf you and let you have a redo.

“I wish you let me die in that arena." You don't recognize your own voice, so hoarse, so numb.

He took a cautious step into the room, “I know." Finnick sounds like he's already resigned himself to this, to whatever this is. You finally tear your eyes from the walls, briefly having let them pass over his figure, but doing nothing more than scooting over. You hope he got the message you silently urged for and of course he does, he gets you so well. When his body heat is by yours once again, you resent that you're able to have it, that you fought to have it.

‘You don't deserve to cry,’ is what you had begun to tell yourself the moment they grabbed you from that arena. The tears of a murderer do little to those whose blood they've shed. Yet when his hand is cupping your cheek, you feel the tears returning. The longer the silence persists, the better you'll be able to hold back from crying, but eventually you succumb to the uprising of tears and you've probably stained whatever Finnick is wearing.

“He's my best friend Finnick." Was. He was your best friend. Before you dug your talons in, chewed up the parts you needed, and kept the blood on your hands. That bright, beautiful boy that by all means you were supposed to end up with. You'd resisted that ending so much the universe had seemingly decided to make it a tragedy instead. “My best friend." His home was yours, his family was one with you, but you had to be selfish and greedy, so karma took its place.

Finnick's hands cradled your head, and you let yourself push away just to melt right back into them. “And he tried to kill you."

It made you seethe, how dare he be right, "Because I used him, I did that to him. He should have killed me, I'm not meant for this, Finnick.”

"Angel, the Capitol is eating out of your hand, you go out there, you smile and laugh, they love it. And then you walk straight off that stage to me.” You've sat up, trying to stop the hyperventilation that's taken control of your body. You can feel his hands on yours, trying to guide your breathing, but your brain felt too loud to even attempt to follow.

“Why'd you let me do it? You should've told me it was stupid, you should've let him win. He has a family who cares about him, oh my god his family!" Maybe it's not fair to blame Finnick, it had been your idea after all, but it helps because you felt like the insurmountable grief would eat you alive.

He pressed his forehead to yours, “I know, I know, angel, I'm sorry." Later you'll feel more remorse for what you said, but now you could barely breathe.

"You'd said you wanted to keep me safe and now I've screwed it all up because the world is punishing me."

Finnick had gone back to trying to steady your face, for his hands to calm you, which only works to remind you every one in a while to breathe. “Nothing is punishing you, this isn't your fault."

“No, it is, it's all my fault, Finnick! I couldn't just be satisfied with how my life was supposed to be. I wanted you so bad and pushed away my fate and so now the universe has to punish me"

“Stop it." His voice is grounded, caring but stern like the way he's been holding your face. “Don't do that, sweet girl, no one is getting retribution against you for anything.”

"What are the odds? Who does that happen to, Finnick? I just happened to get pulled in the same year as my best friend who everyone knows I'm supposed to end up with and then suddenly you want me again?”

"The odds are never in anyone's favor. And I wanted you anyways.”

You've begun scratching at your chest, which you've never done before, but the newfound anxieties seem to have taken over. But Finnick instantly is pulling your hands away. "I'm not meant for this, I'm just supposed to be the person who gets married and lives in some small house on the beach, who goes to the markets, not this.”

“And you put on a show for them, angel, and then we get to go back home and live that life as much as possible. You only have to keep the act up for them." You didn't have it in you to keep explaining otherwise, you were exhausted, although part of you told yourself you'd be better off without sleep, that you didn't deserve rest. Finnick could of course sense it all and pulled you into his chest. The warmth you'd so missed finally fully surrounding you, protecting you from everything, even your own thoughts for a little while. It was a heat you so desperately craved and the idea you'd never feel it again had haunted you when you'd almost died in the cold. So you nuzzled yourself deeper into his chest, "Get some rest, sweet girl.” His lips pressed to the top of your head.

Your brain refused to rest peacefully, but if you so much as mumbled in your sleep Finnick was there to soothe you until it passed and eventually he was waking you. For a moment, when your eyes had just fluttered open, it was easy to imagine that it was just you and Finnick back home, that none of that had occurred had ever happened. Maybe if you convince yourself of that delusion for long enough it would be an easy enough fantasy to slip into whenever you needed to give the Capitol a facade of joy. You were a victor after all.

“They're just going to do the same process that happened before the parade before your stylist gets whatever she had planned ready. I'll be there when you're done."

"Finnick, I'm sorry.”

"You don't have to apologize to me.” He understood what you'd gone through, he'd been there too and even though you knew that it still felt cruel to have blamed him for anything related to your actions.

"I-” He interrupted you with a kiss, you'd almost forgot what his mouth was like, the taste of honey on his lips.

"I’ll meet you after, angel.” He parted ways with you at the sleek, silver door to a scarily, clinical room. Soon enough you were being surrounded by a flock of your designing team to get your primped to the nines.

“You literally had me on the edge of my seat, it was divine." One of them squawked, making sure your body was completely devoid of any hair they hadn't specially planned to be there. You simply smiled as gratefully as you could, nodding along with each remark they made.

“We need more games like you, I mean they're all interesting, but you brought such a kick to it. One of the most entertaining by far!" One squealed, trimming your nails. Making a small look of disgust when he pulled out the dried mud and blood lodged underneath your fingernails.

“Oh, you'll be a must have at my big birthday gala next month. You will come won't you?” The woman with bright green hair who was powdering something onto your face asked eagerly.

“Of course, you've all done so much for me!" Your face hurt from the forced smiles as you gushed, and they oohh’d and aahh’d at your performance.

“You are the sweetest little thing, I could just burst!" The green haired woman waved her hands around expressively, the others nodding along with her.

“Anyone who doesn't already love you, will have to now!" The man announced, putting down your hand.

“Well we've done the makeup Cambrie requested, so we’ll let her know you're ready for the dress. It's simply divine. You'll wait right in there." You were ushered into a much more comfortable looking room and the smell of food instantly made you salivate. You'd forgotten how long it had been since you'd last eaten, especially something more than small fish, rabbits, berries, and nuts. Instantly you dove into each dish you could, eager to finally fill your stomach that has longed for food for over a week now.

You'd nearly eaten your fill when Cambrie’s bright voice filled the room. “I knew it would be you, I told everyone I could how much of a sweetheart you were! And now everyone wants one of my looks. You are such a blessing!” She kissed both of your cheeks,"You know what they're calling you?” You shook your head, not sure if you really wanted to know. "A Princess!” She squealed, obviously filled with glee."That's amazing to work with."

You smiled as big as you could to match hers, “Oh I'm flattered, but why that?"

“I mean look at you, the sweet, little girl from District 4 with two men pining to have her. Not a slob like some of the victors from past years, perfectly kind and refined." If it was considered kind and refined to manipulate and kill other children, then you guessed you would fit the bill. “So your dress reflects that, the princess style as one would say. I would've loved to incorporate a tiara, but since you'll be crowned at the end of the night we had to forego that."

The dress shimmered like the ocean in sunlight,"It's beautiful.” You said starting at the gown, it felt wrong to dressed in the Capitol's finest as Conway was being shipped in a wooden coffin back home.

“Just like you!" Cambrie clapped her hands together before leading you out of the room to where you'd wait to be presented back in front of Panem. Finnick immediately caught your eye and you resisted running straight to him.

“You look beautiful." He had a twinkle in his eye, that made you want to slip back into the fantasy that all of this wasn't because you'd won the Hunger Games, that it was just a regular day.

“You're not too bad yourself.” You shrugged with a playful smile. Then faster than anticipated it was time to go, Finnick squeezed your hand encouragingly. You let your smile fall for a fraction of a second to take a deep breath before plastering it back on.

“You've got this.” He whispered, kissing your hand before releasing it as you walked towards the steps of the stage.

“You know her, you love her, our very own Capitol Princess and victor of the 69th Annual Hunger Games!" He shouted your name into the microphone to a resounding applause as you walked onto the stage. Making sure to wave to everyone you could each of whom flailed their arms in excitement. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we're very excited to have you back." People cheered in agreement as you let out an airy laugh in response.

“Well Ceaser, I'm glad to be back, everyone is so kind!" You were smiling so hard your nose scrunched up, in hopes that they found it adorable.

“I would ask you what you're most excited for now that you're back, but I think we know the answer to that one." He quirked his eyebrows and the audience murmured in agreement.

You felt your face getting hot and looked down shyly, “Oh Ceaser-" You tried to make yourself seem as much like a hopeful romantic, innocent girl as you could. Maybe it could reverse the effects that manipulating Conway may have had on how you were perceived.

“Am I right? Have you been able to rekindle flames with a certain Capitol Darling?" You hid your face in your hands for a second, kicking your legs, the audience laughed, and you were certain there must be cameras somewhere planted on Finnick to try and capture a reaction. "I think we know what that means.” Caesar shot his blinding smile at the crowd who cheered.

“All I can say is there are many things I'm excited to return to, and people." You'd accepted since your interview that if you did win then your romantic life would be of great interest to the Capitol, so you didn't shy away from playing into it, giving a small, longing look off the side of the stage that the cameras would be sure to pick up.

“And I suppose for now you'll make us settle for that as an answer?"

“For now, Caesar, a woman has to have her secrets." You repeated, alluding back to your original interview, and the audience gave a playful groan.

"Well then, for now, that's an answer we'll have to be happy with. But I know we're all burning to go over these highlights with you.” The highlights, your moment to try and keep up the persona while rewatching the moments already ingrained into your mind. Everyone watching seemed eager with anticipation of the cheers were any indicator.

“I wouldn't want to keep anyone waiting then." Your gaze was purposely wide and as doe-eyed as you could make it be. The Bloodbath was first, your kills, the alliance and you were able to maintain the facade as he pestered you about your abilities with the knife. You distracted your brain with how cold the auditorium seemed to be, how thin the fabric of the dress was which left you trying not to shiver. Then it was conversations with Conway and you tried even harder to play into the act while trying to detach yourself from reality.

“I know some people were definitely rooting for you and Conway in the tragedy of it all, but I have to ask, and I want you to be honest. Did you love him?"

“He was my closest friend in the world, of course I loved him." Not like how he wanted you too, or how you knew logically you should have loved him, but it was love. Your voice was soft, sweet, and trembled with the fear of tears. Which you decided could actually be helpful at some point to keep painting yourself in this light.

You could have sworn you saw audience members crying, not because they cared about you, or him, but because to them this was a tale of tragedy that added a kick to their entertainment. Caesar hummed, “But you loved someone else more?" His voice was softer in the microphone as well.

You looked at him, “Only one of us was going to come out of the arena, it wasn't a matter of who I loved more." What a lie, if it was Finnick you were certain you'd give it all up for him in a split second. Sounds of sobs filled your ears and you pushed down the anger you felt at these people for how they'd ripped your life, Conway's life apart , just to cry over it now. Next was the highlight where you'd almost died and that was much easier to talk about, besides the fact that you could currently feel how cold your nose was getting which made your body want to curl up, you took every muscle to resist that impulse though.

“What were you thinking when that parachute was flying down from the sky?"

“Honestly, Caesar, it's fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure I was hallucinating." You forced a nervous laugh which the audience returned in full force and so did Ceased. You turned your body to face them, “However since then all I've wanted to say is thank you, to all of you who sponsored me during the games." The tears about Conway you let spill in full force about this instead, silently hoping it would win even more people over. “I'm just so grateful for all the generosity you've shown me and I will forever be." The crowd gave out noises of approval.

When the coverage of the battle between your allies and the Careers began and all the way up to those you cared about most in those Games, you let your soul float into the clouds. Allowing a smiley, teary eyed autopilot to take over your brain. You don't remember leaving autopilot until you were seated in some sort of throne-like chair, President Snow giving a speech to the citizens of Panem. He turned to you and you rose as he approached you with a crown, a crown that represented how you backstabbed your way to the top.

You bowed your head slightly as he placed the cold metal on your head, “Wonderful job, my dear." He said gruffly with a smile and although you could feel your body shaking, you forced one back.

“Thank you, Mr. President."

Yet he reiterated his statement in a way that gave you chills that you couldn't understand, “A wonderful job, you've really proven what these games are about."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

"Did we leave the spile in one of the trees?” You ask, dehydration certainly isn't helping how lightheaded you felt.

Peeta nods, “Yeah, impossible to know which one though."

"I'll go find it then.” You volunteered.

"I need to give the beach a good walk around, as well, let my brain finish thinking something up.” Beetee stood up, coil of wire in hand.

“You're not going alone." Finnick objected, ready to go with you.

“I'm not going alone, I have Beetee. We'll be fine, Finnick, it's a circle you'll be able to see us the whole way around." He looked reluctant, but knew there wasn't much he could do unless he followed you around, but he couldn't leave Johanna to take care of both Katniss and Peeta.

He sighed, “Be safe." His tone was even, straight-laced, “Beetee make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

You scoffed, “I'm looking for a spile!" But Beetee nodded to Finnick. “I’ll be fine! If I need you I'll scream." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“I'll send out a search party if you're not back in 20 minutes."

You looked around the arena slowly before looking back at him, “I'm sure there's no way of telling, but I'll be back. I promise." You smiled and he's still frowning, but he kisses your forehead and lets you walk off with Beetee.

“20 minutes!" He shouts after you as you begin walking around the perimeter of the beach, looking around the trees.

“So what's your plan with that?" You nod towards the coil Beetee is fiddling with.

“We've got water, lighting, a conductor, everything we need to electrocute." Beetee responds, you're ducking in and out of the trees. Searching for where the spile could be nestled in. You're far enough that you can't really see the group through all the trees, but that doesn't bother you until you hear a scream. It's far enough away that it's faint, screams of a young girl and then Katniss. You and Beetee are looking around, listening to the noise that's carried only by the breeze, when another voice enters the cacophony. It's familiar to you, but your brain struggles to process the sound. “That's you." Beetee says slowly.

Your brain does; however, instantly register the next scream, calling your name, Finnick. Instantly you'd ran out of the treeline back into the sand, back to where you'd left the group. “Finnick!" You screamed back, heart racing in panic. “Johanna, where's Finnick?" Both him and Katniss are gone, you can hear their shouts on top of the other noises.

“He followed her in." Johanna tilted her head towards the jungle and your legs instantly started moving, to find him, to show him the screams aren't really you. “It's already closed off, you can't go in."

"What do you mean, closed off?” You get your answer instantly when your hands touch the shield surrounding the woods the screams are coming from. You see Katniss running forward screaming and Peeta comes up by you, telling her it's just the birds. What birds? She's being hounded by them as she falls to the ground and you realize the screams are coming from them.

“Jabberjays." Beetee says, coming up behind you. You let your hands trace along the wall as you keep walking.

“What're you doing?" Johanna asks, exasperated.

“I have to find him, if he can at least see me-" Her scoff interrupts you but you keep darting your eyes through the trees in this clear cage, following it.

“He knows by now that it's not really you.”

"I know that!” You don't mean to snap at her, it frustrates you that you even pulled your eyes away from the jungle. "I know him, Johanna, and if he can see me then he'll know for certain that I'm okay." You're about to turn in the jungle as you follow the wall but Johanna grabs your arm, you start to shove her off. “Let go of me!”

"You go in there and it could be the next hour, the moment those stupid mutts are done, whatever is in there you'll be stuck with.”

"I don't care!”

She grabs you again, "But he does!” The frustration makes you want to cry all over again. She's right and that infuriates you, looking back inside the bubble when you catch a glimpse of him. Sitting, knees to his chest, covering his ears as he whispers something to himself, eyes clenched shut as birds flutter around him.

You don't care if he can't hear you when you hit the wall, “Finnick! Finnick!" Johanna mumbles something, but you don't listen. Too busy trying to beg him to look your way, but he doesn't. All you can do is watch him as he talks to himself, the way his fingers dig into the side of his head, how hurt he looks. You hate yourself, for disregarding him to go search for the stupid spike, for letting him be there for you and now not being there for him. "There's gotta be a way to break it.” Your voice cracks.

"I helped design the technology, it's unbreakable." Beetee’s voice is quiet in the clamor going on in your head. You hate him too right now for giving them this, something to stop you from getting to him. Forehead pressed to the wall as you let yourself cry, let the shame take over your body. You've forced yourself to keep your eyes on him, to suffer more, a just punishment for allowing this to happen. If you'd stayed out then the screams wouldn't have ever lured him in deeper. At some point he removed his hands from his ears and began to stare forward numbly. Allowing the birds to screech in his ears with your stolen voice, you resent yourself more for not trying harder, for letting him slip into such a state even if there was nothing more to do. Centuries seem to pass when suddenly there's a silence and your head falls forward, the wall is gone, the birds are lying on the jungle floor.

Instantly you're running forward, you want to scream out in relief that it's finally over, but you're terrified to startle him. You kneel down in front of him, there are streaks on his face from what must have been tears, but now he's just blank. “Finn?" It's whispered, so as not to put him on alert.

Slowly his eyes moved to your face, at first it's somewhat untrusting, like he doesn't believe it's really you. The worry on your face must prove to him otherwise because that look is soon gone.

“Are you okay?" You know the answer is no, but you don't know what else to say, too guilt ridden to think of a way to help.

“Yeah, I'm fine." He mutters and you nod just kneeling by him.

Your stomach is churning, it felt like your blood was full of pure, unfiltered anxiety, so you force your foot not to tap, but you can feel your toes twitching. “I'm sorry.” You croaked out and he shook his head again, "No, I am, I'm sorry Finnick. I should've stayed with you, I should've-"

“Are you hurt?" His hoarse voice asks, it's numb like the way his eyes are.

“No, Finnick, I was fine, I am fine!"

“Then it doesn't matter." He shrugs.

“It matters to me." Finnick looks at you, like your words are finally sinking into him. Cautiously you bring your hands up to his, “Do you wanna go to the beach? We can, we can go there." Besides the fact he always wanted to be at the beach back home, that was especially true when the episodes of not being able to ignore the burden on his shoulders happened. Your own uncertainness made you angry with yourself, he was always putting on a facade to be strong when you needed him too and now when it was your turn, you couldn't even stop your voice from shaking. His head moved ever so slightly, “Yeah? Come on." Slowly you began to rise, keeping your hands on his as he stood as well. As carefully as you could you guided him back to the sands of the beach, to the waters.

He instantly submerged himself in the water as he sat down, letting waves rise on him. You followed suit, wrapping your arms around him and he leaned back into you. “Don't leave me either." Finnick eventually spoke, the setting sun highlighting his face.

You shook your head furiously, “I won't." Maybe you didn't understand what about you he found grounded or endeared him, but you did know you never wanted to see or even think of him the way you just had, again. You also accepted there would never be a day where you didn't think about it, what you did, how he looked, how he acted, how scared he seemed. It would haunt you and you would let it, if only to make sure it never happened again. Part of you wished the seawater would consume the both of you here, forever immortalize you with it and make sure there was never a moment you could be parted from each other's arms. Yet a larger piece of you was more determined than ever to execute the plan the best you could so you could be free of the control and mind games of the Capitol, so you could just live the rest of your life out with Finnick the way you'd both intended. To end it all, no matter what it took, so nobody else would have to live the life of the so-called ‘Victor.’

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

I cannot thank you all enough for reading, this was a longer one and I'm sorry it took so long to get out. feedback, likes, comments, reblogs, are all super appreciated and my ask box is open, I'm slowly getting through requests as well! you're all so amazing and sweet, it's really kept my passion for this series alive and I have so many ideas. again thank you all so much for reading 💋

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ravensinthedaylight · 4 months

Text

the lakes (11) // finnick odair x f. reader

previous chapter

midnight rain

4.2k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, gore/violence/death, poisonous fog, mental illness, paranoia, self-hate, terms of endearment, manipulation of someone's feelings, unedited, no use of Y/N

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Although his hands were sweaty and the last thing you needed was extra body heat, when Finnick’s fingers played with the ends of your hair and rubbed your shoulder you refused to let out a complaint. You would have rather died of heat stroke than rid yourself of his comforting touch. Especially since he'd insisted you needed to rest and this was helping you, even if the paranoia was going to keep you on edge. Your eyes stayed glued shut in an attempt to just listen to what he said, but it was too hot, and your thoughts were too loud.

The pain in your head had pretty much ceased, but the threat of infection was extreme. What would Finnick do if you died that way? Would he let himself die to protect Katniss, the rebellion? Even if in the hypothetical you would be dead, the thought made your heart still with guilt. It has consumed you more recently, the idea that like how you couldn't live without Finnick, he couldn't live without you. Of course, it didn't make any sense to you. He was him, so much to give, to offer, so beloved that there was so much more out there for him. Yet, the way he talked increased your fright that that's not how he saw himself. When his burning hand pulled its contact away from you, it snapped your head back into reality. Eyes opened as you watched Finnick walking away and heard the ringing sound of a sponsor gift.

Your hands, equally covered in perspiration, went to wipe your face of it, all in vain. “I think it's a spile." Katniss finally said, grabbing whatever item had arrived and walking to a nearby tree. You hadn't a clue what she was talking about. Were you losing it already? What was a spile?

“A what?" Finnick asked, following her. It was good at least to know you weren't delusional. Whatever it was must not be something of use back home if you both had no idea what it was. Peeta had raised from wherever he'd been laying to follow to accompany them as Katniss tapped the item into the tree. She looked at it expectantly and you weren't sure what had happened at first when they all gasped excitedly. Then Finnick was in front of you again, “Let’s get you up, angel, there's water.” Maybe that's what all this confusion was, dehydration. Without effort he had pulled you to your feet.

It was like a miracle to see clean water pouring out of the spile and Peeta pulled away to let you have your turn. The moment it hit your tongue it was so refreshing, you'd gone so long without a drink your body had almost tricked itself into forgetting how dry your mouth had been. But the water brought instant relief, you splashed some on your face before pulling yourself away to make room for Finnick.

Unexpectedly being hydrated and having the ability to drink more whenever needed calmed you more then you'd anticipated. Regardless of how exhausted your body was when Finnick urged you to lay down and try to rest once again, you were reluctant. Even if it was unlikely, part of you asked, what if you fell asleep and it was the last time you saw him?

“Finnick, I'm fine! I'll keep lookout too, you've been taking care of everything all day, you've got to be exhausted." He sighed at your refusal.

"You're so sweet, that it's infuriating. Please, angel, you need to rest. I will be less tired knowing you're not.” His ocean eyes begged yours, hand stroking your cheek softly.

“That's not how that works." He deserved rest, to lay down. You were perfectly capable of staying there with Katniss. The darkest depths of your paranoia asked you why he wasn't comfortable letting you watch over, if didn't trust you. However, the thought was gone as soon as it made its appearance, if there was one thing you knew it was that you trusted him.

“Please." He whispered and you sighed before mumbling an agreement, there was no way you'd win this argument.

“Will you lay by me?"

He stared at you for a second like he was contemplating, “I’ll just be a few feet away, just on watch.”

You wanted to ask him why he couldn't just do that while laying with you, but you knew he wouldn't say no if there wasn't a reason. Maybe he planned on trying to gain more of Katniss’ trust by staying up with her. Regardless it's not like you would be able to fall asleep if he wasn't there anyways, you couldn't remember the last time you had. It was as if the moment he was away you lost all body heat and couldn't rest unless he was there.

The idea of even verbalizing that made you feel guilty, so you just rolled your eyes and began walking in the other direction to lay down. "Fine."

You could sense his own eye roll at your dramatics and you found yourself a spot between the roots in one of the trees. Staring at the sky through the tree branches when Finnick’s voice reached you through the still air, “Your eyes are still open." You turned your head his way to throw him a glare which he simply laughed at before turning to walk closer by Katniss. It was easy to get lost in your thoughts, the sounds of insects chirping and buzzing somewhere. It was almost peaceful, if there hadn't been the looming fear of death.

This was interrupted when a banging noise cracked through the arena, you shot up, but there didn't seem to be any actual danger. You could see Katniss and Finnick looking up at the sky which quickly ceased. With no threat at hand you cautiously laid back down. Not long had passed before you heard footsteps coming in your direction, you turned your head to the noise.

“You're supposed to be resting." Finnick remarked, laying down by you.

“I'm trying." You scoffed and he raised his eyebrows with a knowing look in his eyes, “Aren't you supposed to be keeping watch, or did you feel guilty for refusing to comfort your wife?"

“If she's going to stay up and keep watch then I might as well sleep. Shows her I trust her too.” His warm arms wrapped around you as he gazed at you. The paranoid voice was back, gnawing in your brain, asking why he wouldn't let you keep a lookout with them. “You okay?" He asked, brows furrowed.

“Yeah." You muttered, shaking away the intrusions. “Well that's good because I couldn't have slept without you anyways." Snuggling deeper into his arms as your noses touched.

“Glad I could be of service then, Mrs. Odair." Finnick pressed a kiss to your lips. Tucked into his arms you were finally able to push away most of the fears, to act like it was just you in Finnick’s arms, falling asleep under the stars. Like you were at home, just the two of you in love. Maybe if you thought about that long enough you'd find the few and far between relief of a sweet dream about the two of you. You tried to convince yourself that you were on the beach with him, that he was keeping you warm as the salt air grazed your face. That the moonlight would shine on the ethereal waters and brighten your face. Eventually you were able to drift into sleep thinking about those fantasies, or maybe they were memories, who knew your brain felt like it had been on overdrive. However, your comfortable rest was interrupted when Katniss was screaming in pain and urging you all, desperately, to run.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“We should start staking out the Careers, find a plan of attack." This was the beginning of the end, you told yourself, once they were gone the four of you would have to do the same to each other. But Marlowe was still right, as a team you needed to get rid of the biggest threat.

"How are we supposed to find them?” Birch asked, looking around incredulously.

"The arena can't go on forever, plus they'll be confident enough to start fires and be louder.” You sat on the muddy ground, throwing your knife into random spots. The arena had begun to warm up on day 5 and the rain had become progressively warmer until day 7. Although the lack of pouring rain was a blessing, it was also a curse since it made finding water a priority once again, and there wasn't much iodine left.

Besides natural causes you'd assumed the other tributes who's faces you'd seen in the sky at night probably died at their hands. It was almost harrowing to think about how you could very soon die at their hands as well, but you had to trust that your group could overtake their’s.

“They're probably at the Cornucopia, that'd be typical." Conway’s arm was resting lazily on one of your shoulders. Marlowe nodded her head in agreement. “We should eat and then head that way."

You pulled a backpack closer to you, “I'll get the net."

“Marlowe and I will go check on the snares if you guys try and get fish." Birch and Marlowe headed off as you pulled the net out of the bag. Rising off the ground to find the nearest body of water.

You listened to the birds chirping before Conway broke the silence, “I don't know if I can do it." His admission was quiet, like he was nervous to say something.

“Do what?" You turned your face to look at him, his eyes glued to the ground.

“Kill them, the Career pack."

“You had a higher score than some of them and you're plenty strong, I'm sure you'll be fine."

Conway exhaled, he looked at you incredulously, "Not like that. I mean I don't think I can kill them, let myself kill them.”

"You killed in the Bloodbath."

"Only once and it's eating me up inside."

You stared at him in silence for what felt like an eternity, but was really just a few seconds. Before you tore your eyes away from him to look at the scenery around you, "Then don't, I’ll do it.”

"You've changed a lot, you know.” This caught you somewhat off guard, but you kept a straight face as you walked.

"I don't think I have, really.” Except in matters of paranoia and distrust which had greatly expanded, it really felt like at your core you were still you.

"With respect, princess, I don't think you would be as willing.”

"At home we weren't in these circumstances.”

"Seems there's a lot about you I don't know then.” The sound of his footsteps had stopped, so you turned to look at him. The two of your stared at each other, he seemed to be coming to terms with something and that made you nervous.

“I'm not saying I want to, just that sometimes you have to do what it takes to survive. Even if it's difficult or-”

"Untrue?” Conway finished, your stomach knotted. What was he getting at?

You sighed," Yeah, I guess.” He stared at you longer before he nodded his head and walked forwards. His aura was all off and it made you somewhat panic. “I'm sorry if that upsets you that I'm doing what it takes to go home." Your voice was more frustrated as you followed him. Finnick would have understood, the longer you went without him the more you longed to be with him, to be with someone who really got you.

He stopped walking and grabbed your arms, “It's okay, I understand. It's just hard to come to terms with when you remember that this is all designed to bring that out in us. To see the other side, not through rose colored glasses.” It was like he was having a different conversation that you weren't being let in on. An echo in your voice told you were done with your facade, that he'd figured it out, but you quiteted it. You'd done everything you could think of, why wouldn't he believe you?

Conway leaned in and kissed you, it was soft, sweet, like he'd never be able to kiss you again. He pulled away and gave a small frown as he looked at you longer, “We should go, we’ll probably find a pond of something soon." He began walking off and you stood still for a few seconds, mind trying to grasp what was going on. But you followed and he fell back into conversation about home as you netted for fish.

Eventually you'd all returned with your goods to eat before setting off towards where you'd assumed the Cornucopia must be and therefore, the Careers. It was a long, boring, pain seeking them out, observing their moves, planning your attack.

“Maybe if we wait them out they'll just turn on each other." Birch was crouched down in the long grass. “We could hit them when they're already untrusting." His thoughts were interrupted by a piercing scream. Your heads all snapped to look across the opening where the noise had come from. One of the Career’s was running towards the two waiting, as she ran a cannon went off. You couldn't hear what she was saying, but she looked frazzled, like she'd been running for her life.

“Looks like our window now, then." Marlowe muttered as she began trudging through the mud. You weren't sure that would be a great plan, that any of this was, but everybody else seemed to agree. Hiding the bags in the grass as they followed her. This wasn't well thought out enough. You tried to appear as though you agreed as you walked behind.

“Come to kick us when we're down?" One of the boy’s, Otto, yelled out. You cursed everyone for not trying to be more sly, not waiting until they were more off guard.

“What happened?" Birch asked, hatchet firmly in his hand. He nodded his head to the girl from District 1, Satin, who was shaking, legs covered in mud.

“There's these horrible crocodile creatures in the swamps." Satin's voice was shaky, she was forgetting herself, that she could die, and you pitied her. You recalled seeing her volunteer, but here she was struggling to maintain composure due to some Capitol mutants, it was gut wrenching to think about the shift between the glory and terror that must have occurred. Finnick had ensured that any Capitol propaganda about the Games and their respect was uprooted from your brain the moment he could.

“They got Aulus." Arria, you believed her name was, the female tribute from 2, said. Her voice didn't even quiver, but you could see some sadness in her eyes, that would've been her last connection to home.

“I'm sorry." Conway was so sincere and everyone stared at him for a second. You didn't know what it was in, respect for his kindness, disbelief because he was just another obstacle in winning, anger because he was a threat.

“Thanks for not just attacking us though, I’ll remember to say how compassionate you all were when I'm on my Victory tour." Otto’s scalpel chain was lunging forward, and unassuming Birch who'd stepped too close by got nicked across his arm as he tried to move out of the way. Hissing as he threw the hatchet at Otto, who turned to miss the weapon. Regretfully all you could think about was how much of a coward the boy was when he made a run for it as Birch scrambled to gather his weapon back.

“Get him Birch!" Marlowe screeched out as he followed. Then Conway was groaning as Arria slashed at him with her sword. Insticinually pushing his spear forward which caused her to shriek as it planted itself into her leg. You hated how slow everything felt like it was going, usually the climax of a Game's felt more rushed to watch, maybe this wasn't the real climax though. She slipped a bit as she tried to pull the spear out and stab at him with her sword. He had the clear upperhand now, to kill her, but he wasn't taking it. Just staring at her with pity.

‘I’ll just have to do it,’ you told yourself and threw the knife into her head. Conway’s face was hit with the splatter of blood and he stared at her body with shock as the cannon went off. Looking at you as you pulled the knife out of her head. You were disgusted with yourself, but desperate time called for desperate measures and you were so close to being able to go back home, see Finnick, feel the ocean, give to your family, to let that all pass up because he didn't want to kill her.

“Somebody had to do it." You muttered out numbly and then looked away at the yells of Marlowe and Satin. A pitchfork had been used to create a nasty hole in Marlowe’s leg and there was a bleeding gash in Satin’s side. Marlowe was able to plug the machete in just deep enough before Satin had gone back to her with the pitchfork and there was that terrible canon again.

“Come on." Conway’s hand tugged at yours and before you could ask questions he was pulling you along as he ran.

“What are you doing?" You asked when you finally gained comprehension.

“We have to go, Birch is gonna kill Otto and then it's just us left." You were back in the long grass, “We'll prolong this if we go hide, here, put the knives in the bag and we'll go find a new place to camp." Conway said breathlessly.

“It would be more fair for us, too all just fight it out now, all together."

“I heard them talking, they were gonna gang up on us and they're so strong, especially together." Your heart was starting to race, maybe he was right this surely was starting to feel climactic. You couldn't help that you were looking at him with suspicion though.

He must have sensed this though because he kissed you, “Trust me." Conway whispered out, hands taking the knives from you to place them in the bag. You nodded, if he was still kissing you he must believe you, and the Conway you knew wouldn't kill someone he loved. Then another cannon went off, either Otto or Birch, “Let's go." His explanation still didn't feel right but you nodded and followed. Blindly following your childhood best friend, the man who loves you and you could love back that way, into the marshes to try and keep you both alive for just a little bit longer.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The screams of pain were instantly enough to stop you from being any sort of tired when you awoke.

“The fog is poison!" Katniss screeched and ran forwards. You could see the cloud of it rolling down towards you all and Finnick was immediately pulling you up, urging you forward.

You were all sprinting as fast as you could, eyes desperately searching for somewhere new to aim for. The fog seemed to be everywhere, like it was getting faster and surrounding any place you could have thought to sprint. You could feel your heart pounding in your skull as you scrambled. Willing yourself not to pause when you heard Katniss cry out quickly followed by Peeta. Your blurry vision is still able to make out their figures though which helps you keep going. Suddenly Finnick had tripped on one of the many vines and was yelling.

“Finnick!" You were screaming, trying to pull him forward out of the fog threatening to completely engulf him. He stumbled forward.

"Come on, angel.” Despite the searing pain he must have been in he grabbed you and then the fog hit one of your calves. You nearly fell forward as you howled out at the harsh, burning that blistered into your skin, enough pain to make you feel like you were going to throw up. Finnick yelled your name and forced you to keep running in any direction away from the fog which seemed to be in any direction you turned.

“Peeta!" You ran towards Katniss, Peeta was on the ground. Motionless besides the twitching muscles around the areas where the boils had taken over. “I can't carry him." Her voice was broken.

Finnick nodded, “Keep up." He looked at you somewhat sternly, but it was more coughing it out. Katniss and Finnick supported Peets and began moving forward as the looming cloud of death crept up. It was hard to move forward, your legs felt like they were going to melt off into a burning sludge. You felt guilty when you arm gripped onto Finnick's free one, trying to keep balance. Then the agonizing pain took over again, unbearable and shooting across your back. You swore that you could hear your skin sizzling in the fog, it was hard to keep your eyes from falling shut, from letting yourself collapse into the ground. Until you were rolling down a hill, the feeling was so harrowing that you let yourself tumble down and then lay dejected, waiting for the fog to consume you.

Katniss’ cries didn't even make you move, the fog must have got her, and this was all for nothing. We'll all die in the arena and the Games will go on next year and every year after that without incident. “The water, it helps!” She called out and you finally pried your eyes open, wincing at the excruciating feeling when you tried to move. Eyes trying to adjust as you crawled forward, trying to silence your whimpers, the pain felt nearly unendurable.

“Finnick." You croaked out, searching for him amongst the roots. Peeta and Katniss’ exhales of relief signaled to you where the water could be, but it wouldn't have felt right to help yourself before you could find him. Your eyes adjusted enough to see a figure laying not far in front of you, “Finnick!" Fingers clawing into the dirt as you pulled forwards not even wanting to think about what it would be like to try and stand again. Hands eventually landing on his chest, trying to shake him awake, he wasn't responding, and whatever pain you'd felt physically was somehow overwhelmed by the harrowing panic settling in. “Come on, Finnick, we have to go.” You tried to drag him towards the water, gasping out in pain as you tried to pull your own scorching body across the ground with his. “I can't get him." Your voice was hoarse and Katniss and Peeta was by you.

“Go wash yourself off, it gets rid of everything and Katniss and I will grab him." Peeta tried to reassure, crouching down. You tried to shake your head, nothing felt reasonable right now, you were too panicked, gripping onto Finnick tighter.

“Finn, you have to wake up. Please, I need you, please wake up." Hands were trying to grab your arms and you weakly tried to stop them. "I can't leave him.”

"You're not, we need to get you washed off and then we'll get him too.” Peeta said, pulling you up to lead you to the water.

“Get him first." You choked out, the physical pain, the emotional pain, all of it compounded was too much.

Then Katniss was pulling you forward from where Peeta had gotten you, she cupped her hands in the water, not dragging you in. She poured some of the water onto your arm and you could have sworn you saw steam leaving your skin as you nearly yelled at the increased pain before the relief.

“Come on, this is good, you can help grab him once you're better." She reassured, helping you pull yourself the rest of the way in. You nodded now and shrieked when the water overwhelmed each blister, the wisps of the poison leaving your body.

“Thank you." You stuttered out, but she was gone and Finnick was being dragged in by her and Peeta. He was screaming when he hit the water and you grabbed his shoulders as he tried to fight against it. “It's okay, it'll feel better, it's getting rid of it." You tried to reassure as he kept fighting back. “Finnick, Finnick, you're okay, this is helping.”

“We need to get our weapons." Katniss said to Peeta who ran off as you kept holding Finnick in the water. Finally Finnick’s eyes fully opened and you signed, letting yourself smile.

“I thought you were gonna die." You stopped holding down his shoulders to wipe away all the tears that had fallen from everything and the water itself.

He stood up, laughing, “Don't be too disappointed, I am in fact, still breathing."

You laughed in disbelief before wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could, terrified that in a moment this could all melt away into a reality where he hadn't woken up. “Good.” Finnick kissed the top of your head and didn't think you'd ever be able to tear yourself away.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so much for reading, I'm so sorry this took so long to get out I've been swamped recently. all the support has been appreciated so, so much and I love you all 💕 feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are all greatly appreciated, my ask box is opens and I'll be getting to some of them soon to branch the time between the next chapter. thank you all so much and I hope you enjoyed this chapter 💋

247 notes · View notes

ravensinthedaylight · 4 months

Text

the lakes (10) // finnick odair x f. reader

previous chapter

midnight rain

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, manipulation of someone's feelings, hypothermia which I did my best to research, near death experiences, reader has familial issues, mental illness, self-hate, terms of endearment, backstory heavy, no use of y/n, unedited, the love triangle that was never really a love triangle

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“What do you think would have happened if this never happened to us, if it was just you and me, at home?" Conway’s voice pierced through the night air, you could hear every breath as you laid on his shoulder. Desperate for some type of body heat.

A question that you could answer truthfully, “Eventually we would have gotten married and you'd have taken over your family business, your sisters and I would have absolutely made the most out of everyone in the marketplace.” As much as it hurt you to think about, you doubted Finnick would have come back to you if none of this had occurred. He'd leave you alone to “protect you" as he claimed without an obvious reason and your love would have faded into an unfinished fairytale of what could have been in the back of your mind. You hated to think about it, but Conway was the person you would settle to be with if you couldn't have the love you wanted.

“You really think so?" His fingers were tracing something on your sleeve that you weren't focused enough on to try and decipher. “My family, everyone at school always thought so, but you could have anyone you wanted." No you couldn't, the person you'd wanted most in the world had pushed you away, the only person your soul ached for.

“You could've had anyone to Conway."

“No, I couldn't have." He shook his head with a bitter smile.

“Yeah, who was that one girl?" You scrunched your eyes shut trying to recall her name, “Meena!” Your eyes snapped open,"You dated Meena, she was sweet.”

"Only to try and make you jealous.” He muttered, softly. Finnick had always remarked how Meena looked like you, how Conway was unbelievably entranced by you, for reasons you'd never understand. You didn't know what to say back, it hadn't worked, you'd actually been ecstatic for him to have found someone. "I wouldn't have picked Meena.” He wanted you to say you wouldn't have picked Finnick, you could tell, but you couldn't say that.

"Then, it would've been you and me, and I would have driven you mad.” You averted, giving a breathless laugh.

There was a glimmer in his sad eyes and he gave a slight smile,"No you wouldn't have.”

You smiled and nodded, "Oh I would have, I'd want to do this and that, when all you wanted was to stay home. Then you'd want to go crawfishing and I'd grumble to stay in bed.” It would have been good enough, satisfying enough, but it would never be what you and Finnick could've had. You were both creatures of extraversion, you'd go where he went and make do, if he wanted to fish you'd go along to read or let him convince you to join, if you absolutely refused he'd eventually yield to you. If you'd decided to rot away in your head Conway would desperately want to help, but Finnick would, he'd take care of you, but also force you out of it. If Finnick was everything you needed, everything you wanted, everything you yearned for, Conway was perfect for everybody else.

“That would've been okay with me." Okay. Not like puzzle pieces fitting together, just two books sitting by one another. “Kids?" There was the other thing, Conway would be a great father and needed to be in a sense, but it scared you. How could you raise a child if they were constantly close to being thrown into the predicament you were in now? You would have loved to have kids if the government was different, if none of these chains were locking that up, and Finnick was the same. Children would be perfect in another world, another time.

Yet you humored him, “How many?" No kids would be in danger since both of you wouldn't be able to come out of this alive.

“Four?" Conway leaned tilted his head to the sky, “Two boys, two girls."

“Five, three girls, two boys, take it or leave it." If you tried hard enough you could somewhat convince yourself it was just the two of you, back home, living the life everyone expected you to live. To imagine you'd just settled. He was handsome, so handsome any girl would have adored him, he was sweet and hardworking. His family cared so deeply and was basically your own. The universe stretched itself thin for you and Finnick, if it stayed still it would've been you and Conway.

He laughed and looked back at you, “I'll take it, any day, I would have taken it." He had to know, if you got out you would run right back to him, but the fantasy was better than thinking about that, at least it was easier at some points to tell yourself Conway knew. “Would you take care of my family?" He whispered, face settling into some type of seriousness.

“Of course I would." Even if you'd never be able to look at them again after what you were doing which they surely knew about, you would pour as much money into their pockets as you could.

He looked away from you, his eyes glossy with unshed tears as he stared into the dark. Like he was ashamed to say what he was going to, “It's just, it's always been all of us. They begged me to come home and I don't know, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. And you-" Conway choked on whatever he was going to say, “I'm sorry, I don't want to be an ass, I'm just trying to be honest." He wiped his face of the tears that weren't even falling, but you could see it all on his face. It made you absolutely ill with yourself, he was right, his family was so tight-knit it would be a major hit to all of them if he was gone. Yet here you were playing with him like some sort of toy to get you to the top. He was spilling all of his heart to you, saying what was hard to say and you pulled strings. You buried your face in your freezing hands.

“It's okay." Your voice was muffled, eventually pulling away as you looked at him. “You're right, you don't have to say it. But even if they aren't like yours it doesn't mean they don't need me, I'm the one in the markets, Conway. Mom’s too sick to do it, Dad has to go out and work, and Avonlea has to take care of Mom. No one else is going to do it and they wouldn't have to worry about that anymore.”

It was unsaid that even if that happened it didn't mean you'd break the seemingly impenetrable walls of their bond, a trio you weren't meant for. Maybe it wasn't worth it, if you got out you'd help them, but wouldn't be part of their team, you wouldn't be able to look at Conway’s family without being eaten by guilt on the spot, your best friend would be dead and it would be your fault, all you'd really have is Finnick. But maybe that was enough for how desperately your soul longed for him.

“I'm sorry."

“It's not your fault." You didn't blame the Games either, as far as you were concerned you were the only one to blame. You didn't know when you'd begun to cry, but the way the biting cold hit your wet face made you shiver.

Then his arms were pulling you closer, “No, that was wrong of me, I didn't want to make you cry. Your family is just as important as mine." That only made you cry more. If you weren't so unpleasable you could have been content with him, happy even, that wouldn't have stopped this from happening, but maybe you would have felt less guilty or let yourself die with him, the way you would die for Finnick.

“You're too good to me, Conway. Much too good, you deserve a Meena." You were trying to wipe away your tears, but they were coming much too quick.

" I don't want a Meena.” Then his lips were on yours and for a second it was comforting, which only fueled your nausea. It didn't matter that you were young and confused because you knew he wasn't the one, that this had been what you wanted from him just so you could be with someone else. That beautiful, kind Conway was a means to an end and this was all supposed to end one way.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It was hot, sweat was clinging to your skin, and your head still stung. You almost couldn't bear to be too close to Finnick and his unnatural heat that was usually so comforting, but he was hovering around you so much that it was nearly impossible to get a few steps away as you all ran through the jungle. Cannons began booming off one by one as everyone finally decided to sit down. There was more guilt this time, most of these people you knew pretty well and had spent time with in some capacity over the years. Even if you hadn't killed any of them, you were still alive when they were gone, how was that fair? Nothing was, nothing had been for so long, never in your lifetime.

“I guess we're not holding hands anymore." Finnick laughed and it caught you so off guard that you couldn't help it when your scoff turned into a laugh as well. Hitting your forehead on his shoulder. The irony of it all, how you'd held hands in solidarity against the Capitol only to tear each other's throats out down here.

“You think that's funny?" Katniss asked, you understood why she was so appalled by his comment, you truly did, but his comments had always evened out your thoughts before they became all consuming. His humor brought light to the dark.

"Just a little bit.” You demonstrated with your fingers, even though it was definitely more than that.

“Everytime that cannon goes off it's music to my ears. I don't care about any of them.” He pointed at the sky, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good to hear." Katniss pulled some weapon out of her quiver to point his way. You couldn't help yourself when you tossed one of your knives up to catch it, as badly as you needed Katniss out of the arena you wouldn't let her attack Finnick. Even if he could defend himself, which he demonstrated perfectly well as he held his trident right back at her. At the end of the day you two were still the team, you could only get her out if she'd cooperate and it would be very unlikely if she went for Finnick that she'd trust anybody after that.

“Wanna face the Career pack alone? What would Haymitch say?" Finnick’s brow quirked, you briefly made eye contact with Peeta. He looked so uncomfortable, looking for an opportunity to decrease the tension.

“Haymitch isn't here." Katniss replied, not backing down. Peeta began to stand.

"Let's keep moving.” His voice broke the tension when Katniss stood as well, maintaining her own eye contact with Finnick, she looked so untrusting, so angry. Finnick grabbed your free hand as you stood. Then he was behind you, slightly grabbing the back of your head.

“We should have cleaned it, you could get an infection." Finnick frowned.

“I'll be fine, Finnick." You smiled, it wasn't like the plan was supposed to take longer than a couple days. You doubted you would die of an infection in that time. Planting a light kiss on his cheek before you tugged his hand to keep walking.

“Let's not tempt the fates." He muttered, silently insisting to be the one who pulled you along instead. Peeta was cutting down the vines as you all walked forwards, making way to see ahead. You glanced at Finnick, how could he still be so breathtaking when he was dripping with sweat? Maybe you were too lovesick for disgust at this point, but it amazed how despite all the grime the bronze of his skin still shone and you would have bet people would still line up for a minute of his time.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer." He flashed those pearly whites at you and you rolled your eyes despite feeling your cheeks get somehow hotter.

“You're a real comedian, Odair, I'll give you that. I mean I'm basically dying of laughter." You deadpanned, rather unsuccessfully, when you stumbled over some branch. Finnick's hand helped you maintain balance, but he was laughing at you just as quick.

“Angel, you don't need to fall for me, I'm already your husband. There's really no need to be so desperate." You playfully hit him.

“And you're just so helpful, I could have died.” You shrugged, over exaggerating as much as you probably could.

"That would have been a rather pathetic way to go, don't you think?” He teased, "And after all that talk about how you could take care of yourself.” Finnick tutted and you shoved his shoulder again.

Katniss' scream instantly tore you out of the moment," Peeta, no!” The machete hit some sort of forcefield ahead and he flew back, roughly hitting the jungle floor. She was immediately scrambling for him, grabbing his face. “Peeta?" Her voice shook and it hit you that maybe it wasn't an act like you and Finnick had theorized, maybe the bare bones of it all showed there was a pure, raw love there even if it didn't always seem that convincing to people who weren't Capitol citizens desperate to eat up any act. “He's not breathing. He's not breathing, he's not breathing! Peeta!” Katniss cried out and Finnick immediately ran to him, pushing Katniss away.

She'd pulled out her bow when you ran up, “Katniss he's just trying to help." You put your hands up as you slowly approached her, she looked panicked, confused and Finnick's lips were on Peeta’s. It looked like her brain was running so fast it hadn't even registered that it was CPR. Finally it looked like it had clicked and she put the bow down, running back over Peeta. You followed, cautiously placing your hand on her shoulders. “It's okay, he's gonna be okay.” You couldn't know that, but it was all you could think to say.

“Peeta, Peeta." She was begging, voice trembling and you saw yourself in her. You'd be the same way if anything happened to Finnick, her desperation proved to you that beyond all else she truly was in love with the boy from the arena.

“Come on Peeta." Finnick said gruffly, doing rough compressions on his seemingly limp body.

“Peeta, please wake up." Katniss was cradling his head and you squeezed her shoulder trying to be as reassuring as you could.

“He will, Katniss, he will." You nodded mostly to yourself. Her body was shaking from her tears.

"Please wake up.” Her body rocked back and forth as Finnick muttered continuous "come on’s,” continuing his attempt to revive Peeta. Suddenly he was gasping for air and Finnick sighed in relief. “Peeta! Oh my god!”

“Be careful, there's a forcefield up there.” Peeta said softly and Katniss laughed through the tears before kissing him. By now you doubted anyone could think their love was all a performance, it made you want to cry as well. Finnick's hand slid back into yours, squeezing it. Telling you that you were in fact on the same page, it amazed you how with looks and touches it was as if nearly every thought the two of you shared could be communicated.

“Oh my god, you were dead. You were dead, your heart stopped.” She stroked his hair, like she was terrified she'd never get too again.

“It's okay, it's working now." Katniss hugged him before they worked to get him standing up again. She was so soft, so caring, which you knew from the act with Rue the year before, but it was so moving to see in real life. All the things that really made her such a good symbol of the rebellion, not the hate for the Capitol, the love for other people.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

By day 3 it was pouring down freezing rain, buckets of it. Only a few more cannons had gone off and you couldn't reason how this would make the games more interesting, watching people die of pneumonia or something of the like. You'd figured out the boots were made to be pretty resistant to water and prevent as much sliding in the mud as possible, but it was basically up to your ankles in muck. Trudging along was a chore within itself, you couldn't even start a fire to keep warm, even if you'd strung up the tarp to keep it from the rain the wood around was all soaked. Every once in a while the four of you would string a tarp in the bare trees, one on the ground, huddle together for some sort of heat, lay the small plastic covers on you and pass the match between your hands as quickly as you could. Before they could burn out and you were terrified you'd run out, that all sense of heat would be gone.

You'd been so cold and exhausted that it took everything in you not to groan as the four of you picked berries. Grateful that Conway had paid enough attention at that station to know which one's were poisonous. Your hands were so numb it was nearly impossible to grab them, nevermind the fact that you were being soaked in the frozen droplets since it was Marlowe and Birch's turn with the plastic covers.

“Your lips are blue." You were startled when Conway was suddenly in front of you, staring at you with concern. You tried to move your hand to touch your lips but it refused to do what you wanted. Then you mumbled something so incoherent you couldn't even tell what you'd been trying to say. His hand pressed to your face, which you only knew from being able to see it. “She's like ice." He looked at the other two anxiously.

“Me too." Birch muttered and Marlowe shot him a glare before approaching you. Fingers touching your neck, searching for a pulse.

“We should set up the tarps, get her out of the rain.” Marlowe advised, looking at the two boys. "I think she's hypothermic.” Everything was a rush to you, it was so confusing. Why were you out in the woods? Conway was here, but who were these other people? It was hard to walk when Conway had led you into the makeshift shelter. “Her jacket is soaked through, hopefully her shirt isn't as much, we should take it off."

“That'll make her more cold." You were pretty sure that was Conway's voice.

“Water makes it worse anyways." The female voice rang out in your ears. Before some other ringing sound came through, this time you were sure you weren't delusional when everyone else's heads looked around. Conway instantly stood up to search for whatever it was.

When he came back it wasn't him you were seeing, there was Finnick. Gorgeous, sunshine Finnick. Your lips tried to move to say something to him but it was too difficult. By the time you felt them move an inch he was gone and it was Conway once again.

“This is huge." He remarked, bringing in some sort of package. Were you ok the boat? None of your surroundings made sense.

“Must have incredible sponsors." Another male voice rang out, who was that?

“It's a blanket!" Your jacket was being torn from your stiff muscles as something surrounded you. Was wrapped around you and your head was laid down. “You're gonna be okay."

"There's a broth too.” The female voice said again, you were seeing Finnick again standing over you, wait no it was your father. Hovering over you as if you were your mother. You just wanted to rest, this was all so overwhelming. Whoever it was was urging you to open your mouth to put a spoonful of something inside. Which was extremely difficult but eventually you managed to, the swallowing was even harder, but it did fill your insides with a pleasant warmth. Everything was such a rush you didn't know when you'd slipped into sleep.

You knew eventually you'd woken up, feeling somewhat warmer, more conscious. You knew people's names at the very least. Conway had his arms wrapped around the blanket, providing even more heat. Marlowe was laying by your side, trying to exude more heat even though she cold herself and Birch was by her side.

“You're lucky to have a mentor who could get you something like that and the sponsors to support it, most people die of hypothermia in under an hour, at least back home." Marlowe said when you'd looked at her. She wasn't bitter or angry about it, at least not at you.

“Yeah." Your voice was so hoarse you almost didn't recognize it. “Thank you for not leaving me for dead. I wouldn't have blamed you, the probability of me dying and dragging the group down waiting for me was pretty high.”

Marlowe just shook her head, "No us four until the end, we'll talk about it more then.” She looked back at the top of the tarp, listening to the rain drops. " When you're done being on the brink of death you'll share the blanket though, right? It's freezing out here.”

You let yourself smile a little,"Yeah of course.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

I literally cried writing this guys, I thought it wouldn't get it out but happy new year!!! I'm so grateful for all you reading and interacting with this story, I'm ecstatic that so many of you love my brain rot ideas. if you enjoyed feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are all super appreciated and my ask box is always open even if I'm super slow about it. love you and thank you so much again 💋

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ravensinthedaylight · 4 months

Text

midnight rain // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.

chapter two

sequel

warnings: descriptions of gore, violence, character death, hurt/comfort, allusions to trafficking, secrets, reader is 17 and finnick is 18, inaccurate timeline, finnick might be ooc idk I'm not good at telling lmao, part one ??, unedited, ANGST, fluff, no use of y/n, pet names like angel and my love, the title will make more sense when I get all my ideas out in the possible next part, so long, I'm so sorry

2.9k words

Waking up in his arms is what saved you, every night when you were thrown back into that arena shivering in the cold, the warmth of him wrapped around you would guide you back to safety.

Safety.

Did you even have that? Comments made in passing by former victors and my Finnick’s attitude made your stomach turn. What truly lay ahead for you post the games? You couldn't focus on that yet though, right now you'd just have the muster up the courage to finish up the grand Victory Tour. Your reward for losing your humanity, for the blood staining your hands.

Finnick grumbled into your shoulder as he began waking from his own so-called rest, which you could only imagine became more torturous as time went on. Or not, maybe you'd become more numb to it as the present forced itself onto you rather than the ghosts of the past. Sunlight streamed down on his bronze skin, he nearly shimmered. It was as if the gods knew he deserved to be blessed with something for all the tribulations he faced.

“I'm supposed to be the one watching you sleep." His saccharine voice filled your senses like honey, the sound of sleep adding a rasp, in the mornings he was like honey and toast.

“Sorry I couldn't resist your charms and I didn't want to disturb your rest, golden boy." You smiled as he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Your rest is much more important, it's your Victory Tour. You've got people to face and impress, be the Capitol’s Princess." He said it with a smile you could melt for, but behind his tone you could sense bitterness. Unsaid words he wasn't ready to reveal to you, something that had broken you apart one, and then led him back to you, into his warmth.

“Finnick-" It was a hidden tone that terrified you. What had he been keeping locked behind those honey-dripping, sweet-talking lips for so long? When would he hand you the golden encrusted key to his secrets?

“Come on you need to get dressed, angel. You have impressions to make.” He didn't want to talk about it, he knew when you were trying to pry and wasn't ready to reveal what he kept hidden. You did need to get ready though, today was District 7, the allies you'd had to betray. Just the thought of it made you want to retreat further into the warmth of the bed, the blankets, of his arms but he was unwrapping himself from you without another word.

Maybe if he couldn't tell you were trying to make him reveal things he would be slower and gentler about preparing you for what lay ahead, but he didn't want to stare into your pleading eyes and spill his secrets. Which is why he'd torn himself from your love in the first place.

"Stay on the script, you did what you had to do to survive. Charm, but it's not the families you're doing it for, it's them.” Them, the Capitol, eagerly awaiting your filmed performance. You nodded as Finnick wrapped his robe around himself. He made no eye contact as he left the train car and you felt yourself running cold. You were alone again, with your thoughts, soon your Capitol assigned team of designers would be here to dress you up like a paper doll.

You were frail and delicate, but lethal when it came down to it. Your tears were iconic for fragile femininity, but manipulation to win against those with stronger senses. An image you still needed to abide by, even if you'd rather lay down and fall into your head for eternity, punishing yourself for it all.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

There he stood, face firm as he readied the hatchet to slice straight through your brain.

“Birch, you don't really want me dead. We don't have to turn on each other, we can talk about it." You reasoned, tears brimming your eyelids.

“Why? Like how you were planning to talk to him about it too?" Birch nodded to the lifeless body nearby.

“He attacked me!" You defended, that would be the argument. The sweet tribute who had such a big heart, but did what she needed to survive.

“Because he knew you were trying to use him, sorry we couldn't all fall for your charms. All of us have homes, families to go back to. Of course I don't want you dead, but they need me.” He was pleading too and if you looked hard enough you could swear he was about to cry. Before you could say another word the hatchet flew from his hand and you dodged it just in time. Birch began sprinting towards you. If he got his arms around you there was no doubt he could snap your neck in a split second. His strength was one of the reasons he was such a good pick to ally with.

You were unsteady on your feet as you ran away, fumbling for something to throw, to block his advances. The hatchet had lodged itself into the ground not far from you, he knew you were going for it and the adrenaline was speeding him up. You grabbed it, stumbling forward as soons as it was within your grasp, turning forward. He was so close and paused a second. You'd be more dangerous close by then at a distance now, he'd helped you practice throwing different weapons in training which you were decent at. Decent enough to be a threat, decent enough that he regretted it, decent enough that you regretted it too, using his kindness to win against him.

But this was all too slow, he needed to either win or lose. So he gave up on the reason and barreled forward. You barely had enough time to think as you pounded forward as well, slicing into him, not deep enough to kill, but enough to injure, for him to stumble back a second. You didn't have time to take a second and thrusted the hatchet straight into his chest, definitely deep enough to kill. The sight of the blood trickling down his bottom lip as he fell backward blurred your vision. She was still left, you didn't have time to feel guilty yet you did.

“Mom, Laurel-” He choked out before he went completely stiff and the cannon rang out. Flashes of his mom and his little, 10 year old sister, shivering and shaking by her mother and his image stared with cold eyes at you. Giving your grand speech about his bravery and next thing you knew you were screaming.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Hey, hey it's okay. You're not there, you're right here. I've got you." Warm hands shook your shoulders as you woke with sobs wracking through your body.

That's the problem you thought your mind was racing awake, he had people to take care of you had selfishly picked your family over his, over all of there's.

“I know, I know, I've got you." Finnick enveloped you within his arms as you let your tears streak down his shoulder.

“How am I supposed to look at them, Finnick? How am I supposed to congratulate them for their child’s bravery when I took their babies away from them?” Your voice was creaky and louder than you'd expected.

He pulled you off his shoulder, facing you, his sea green eyes pouring into yours. “With a smile, this isn't about them, or for them. This is for Snow, you're still playing the game. I can't tell you it gets better, but you have to remember he's watching and you need to follow his rules." You nodded robotically, the old Finnick would have comforted you more. But, this Finnick was still recovering too and he was doing his job as a mentor. Keeping you safe from the vultures and their outrage if you didn't play the Capitol’s Princess good enough.

“Can you stay?" You whispered, even though he always did.

“Of course, angel." He pressed his warm lips to your forehead, engulfing you within his arms. You lay with him knowing if you fell back asleep with images of her family would echo within your soul, haunting your dreams. Finnick would ground you back, his comfort would stop you from screaming in the real world, keep your protected, but not the flashes of what you'd done. “You need to sleep, you have to do it all again tomorrow."

“I know." You wiped down a stray tear streaking down your face. He looked serene in the moonlight glow even if his eyes spoke a different tale. One of worry, one wondering how much longer until the waterfall poured himself out to you. “Finnick, I know things aren't the same between us, they haven't been, and I don't know if you even want them to be. But please, please don't ever leave me. I need you, to keep me from just floating completely away. To remind me why I won."

Your choppy voice broke his heart even more, he didn't know how much longer he could do this to you. He wanted to be as he had been for you, but the chains bore too heavy right now. There was too much on your plate to add more brutality to it.

“I would never even consider it, angel. I felt selfish for it, but you keep me grounded too. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you." His voice was softer than usual, wasn't as teasing, it was so pure, so lost.

“You're not selfish, Finnick. I know you've always just wanted to keep me safe, even if I don't know from what and you can tell me in your own time. I'll wait for you to come back to me."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. You were so sweet, so in need of his protection. He couldn't let them do to you as they did to him, but there was nothing he could do to protect you except keep it away as long as possible.

“You need to try and rest, sweet girl." You hummed in response, knowing that wouldn't happen.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Just you and me then." Her voice was always so rich, accented and friendly but strong. It was like dark chocolate, with a hint of caramel and raspberries. But now, it was exhausted. You'd trusted her more then anyone else, related to her even if your tactics were different. Even when the men had tried to split up as if it was District against District. Really they'd just been trying to get the two “weaker" girls out of the way so they could fight it out amongst themselves. Marlowe had been much too smart for that though. She'd fled from Birch the moment she sensed his demeanor change.

You'd both silently hoped the other would be dead, so that it wouldn't come to this. You and Marlowe fighting for your lives, your families, all as a silly little dance, a pageant for the rich.

“Just you and me." You repeated back, voice so soft it could be caught in the wind and drift away, feathery.

“I'd say we should just split up and wait to see who dies out first, but we both know you're much more popular than I am." She smirked with sadness twinging her features.

“They like you, Marlowe. You're fierce."

She laughed harshly, “So are you, but you've balanced it out. Anyways I'm sure if we did do that they'd send something out for us. It's all for the show, isn't it?" Marlowe wouldn't cry but you could feel the exasperation, the anger, the tears that would never spill in her wavering voice. “Isn't it?" She shouted into the sky. You could tell she was giving up in a sense, not scared of angering the Capitol. But that didn't mean she wasn't still a threat, if anything her wrath made her more of a danger in the moment. So as she started into the sky you made a run for it, grabbing the spear left by Conway. Oh, Conway.

There was no time to dwell on Conway or Birch. Right now you need to focus on your plan, gaining the upper hand. You needed to be in the water. Which wouldn't be hard, this was a marshland after all. Spear in hand you ran as fast as you could, enough distance would give you enough time to think of a more solid plan. Marlowe shouted your name, but you ran until your legs tumbled into the warm water, sweat ran down your face as the mugginess clung to your skin. You whipped around to where her footsteps headed towards you, gripping for dear life onto that spear.

“Was this your plan all along? That's what Birch always said, you'd play the part of a darling, of a ready to cry her heart out sweetheart just to stab us all in the back, especially with that training score.” She shook her head, dismayed. " But I get it, I really do. This is what they do, pin us against each other. If you wanted me to die you would have thrown that at me, but you haven't. But I can still win this thing.” The tears were burbling up again and before you could throw the spear into her she'd tackled you from the side.

Your lungs filled with the muddy water and you gasped for air that wasn't there. How ironic it would be, you ran for the water to have the upper hand and it would be the end of you. Your grasp had loosened on the spear and you desperately tried to find it in the water. Your arms failed, you kicked forward, but Marlowe was just as strong as Birch would have been. For a second you were able to lift your face out of the water and take a gasp of air before her hands plunger you back into uncomfortably warm water.

You saw images of Finnick, how disappointed he would be in you. How heart wrenchingly broken he would be to know he pushed you away to ‘protect you’ and there you were dead in the dirty marsh water. You wanted him back desperately, for him to trust you again, let you back within the walls of his mind. Suddenly your hands finally wrapped around the spear you'd been desperately searching for. With all the energy you had left in you, eyes searching through the murky water you aimed as much as you could.

Suddenly her rough fingers holding you down loosened and you forced yourself up, gasping for air. Hands still on the handle of the spear and you felt the warmth of a thicker liquid falling down on you. Straight from her neck, you'd gone straight through her throat. The cannon rang out, a voice proclaimed you the victor of the annual Hunger Games, but all you could do was bawl. Mumbled apologies, she didn't deserve this, nobody did.

Pictures of her mother and father glaring into you for taking away their only baby as you announced your loyalty to the righteousness of Panem. You weren't screaming yourself awake.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick hasn't fallen back to sleep, but your sniffles and the feeling of your hot tears on his arms made him glad he hadn't. That he could be here for you when you woke up once again, needing to know there would be no more death. Other things like ahead, but there would be no more arena.

“Angel, it's okay. Let it out, I'm here for you." He spoke with so much confidence that your drowsy self simply nodded as you cried and tucked yourself into his arms even more.

“Finnick?" You mumbled out through your groggy mind and tear filled throat.

“Yes, my love?" Even when your vision was blurred he looked ethereal, a god send in your time of need.

“Can you just tell me something happy, just whisk me away, please?" Finnick kissed the top of your head.

“Of course." The begging way you said it, pumped his veins with guilt. He's been too harsh, too much of a realist. Which wasn't how your relationship operates, he couldn't just talk to you like a mentor when you'd always meant so much more than that.

“Angel, after we get through this we're going to live in a beautiful house overlooking the beach. I'll annoy you but dragging you out to fish-” He began before you interrupted him.

“You could never annoy me, Finnick." You said softly and he pressed his finger to your lips.

“Shhhh, just listen and rest. I'll annoy you and boss you around it, as you like to say. I'll collect sea glass to make you beautiful things, we'll dance in the sand, and every second I'll think about your hands in mind, your soft hair wrapped in my fingers, your lips on mine. We’ll be so drunk on our own pleasure all of this will be a figment of your imagination, I'll cook for you, and we'll get dressed up to go nowhere before we just end up swimming the night away." Maybe he was lying maybe if Snow had his way it would break you like it had broken him, but maybe with your kindhearted way you'd simply build him back up and your bond would be stronger than ever.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Sorry this is so long, but I left out so much I was thinking about. Especially about the games so maybe there'll be a part two if y'all want. Thanks for reading, likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated.

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ravensinthedaylight · 4 months

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What should I write next?

#wanda maximoff #emily prentiss x daughter!reader #emily prentiss #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader

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ravensinthedaylight · 4 months

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The Aftermath - Sequel to 'The Endgame' - Winterwidow x Daughter Reader

Requests: Open/ Masterlist

Summary: The loss of a child is something no parent should ever have to go through. Unfortunately, Bucky and Natasha had to go through it twice in both of their lifetime. Sequel to ‘The Endgame’

A/N: Guess who’s back, back again, shady’s back. (please like and comment tysm)

Warnings: Major character death, swearing, mourning, lmk if there’s anymore

Both Natasha and Bucky were going through the boxes that Steve had left them.

Steve watched the pair solemnly, he placed the last of the boxes down on the coffee table, but didn’t dare open it. Boxes of your things filled the room. They were filled with your clothes, stuffed animals, trophies, medals, pictures, books and even more.

One of your sweatshirts were on the coffee table, also, having been discarded there just minutes before when Natasha had smelt it.

It smelt like you, well, so it seemed anyway. It smelt like your perfume and shampoo. Lavender and Coconut.

It wasn’t the scent she remembered from when she would bury her nose in your hair while kissing your forehead good night, the familiar childlike scent of strawberries and vanilla. The scent that would never again be smelt by her with fondness, but with grief.Some would call this a coping mechanism so that they wouldn't feel guilty for not being able to be there. But it made them feel even worse knowing how much they really missed out on.

Steve sat on the sofa, giving little details about each of your items, your mom and dad didn’t say anything, but they would give Steve a small smile or huff of laughter if what he said amused of interested them.

They wanted to know what you were like before you-

-While they were gone.

They had missed five years of your life. The last years of your life. And it fucking killed them.

A lot of your stuff was damaged to to Thanos destroying the compound but Steve’s section was the furthest away from where the bombs had hit, and some of your stuff had been left in Tony’s cabin, where you would sometimes go to sleepover.

Alpine and Gurt were left unharmed, too. And Bucky was relieved to see Alpine again, and Alpine was happy to be reunited with Liho, who had been blipped along with Nat and Bucky.

In the boxes were items such as baseball caps that were signed by your favourite players, most had dirt on them, and Natasha refused to wash them incase the signature washed off along with it. There was a few that were perfectly clean, those had been kept in a box in your room at Tony’s. It was a pretty big house and Tony had given you and Kate a room to share. Tony had even given Nat and Buck two that he had purchased for your next birthday, too, even though you had never directly owned them, you were supposed to, and in a world where everything went the way it was supposed to, you would have received them.

Under the caps were your sport trophies, rewards and medals.

“Y’see that one right there?” Steve said as he pointed at a medal that was mould to look like a volleyball.

Natasha and Bucky both nodded as Bucky picked it up.

“That’s a participation medal. She was fifteen when she got it.” She told them. “She played the game with Kate. She didn’t get medals that were only for participation often, she got better ones. At least not when it came to sports. But this time it was different, y’see. It was your birthday Nat.”

Natasha looked over at him, surprised.

“She... well she wasn’t herself on certain people’s birthdays. Like the two of yours, Wanda, Peter, Clint and Sam’s. She just... you could tell that her heart wasn’t in the game. There was another girl on the other team, noticed Y/N wasn’t into it and started to say some things to her.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“What things.”

“Things that really upset Y/N. The girl told her that if either of you had seen how bad she was playing you’d both be really disappointed. I think that really hit close to home for Y/N. Y’see, for her that was a really hard year.”

“Y/N thought we would be disappointed in her for playing a game badly?” Natasha’s voice broke at the end of the sentence.

“I think that was the year Y/N was really second guessing herself. Her grades were all B’s, which is great considering what she was going through. But Y/N was too hard on herself, she was always like that, you guys know that. She had this halo around you guys, she looked up to you both so much and that didn’t change after the blip. She didn’t think that you would ever come back, she seemed to think that if she got straight A’s and excelled in sports she wouldn’t have to wonder wether of not you guys would be proud of her, because who wouldn’t be proud of that, right?”

Natasha and Bucky didn’t know what to say, it was Bucky who eventually spoke. “But we loved- we love her so much.”

He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘loved’ in past tense. He still loved you so much. You were only gone for two weeks. But your death had brought so much pain to both him and Natasha, the pain was incomprehensible.

“And she knew that, Buck. I think that’s what she missed the most. She missed the love you provided. I mean she had gone without anyone loving or caring about her for seven years, but then when she finally gets her mom and dad back and you’re giving her all the love she had spent those seven years wanting and then all of a sudden you’re gone, that’s gonna have a huge impact on the kid.”

Natasha put her hands over her face and tried to suppress the tears.

You were born to her in the Red Room as part of a little project that Dreykov had put her up for, Dreykov and HYDRA came together to have more super soldier babies created, this was of course before Natasha’s graduation.

Nobody had anticipated her and Bucky falling in love before the project had even been announced, and it was by pure luck that they had been assigned to each other.

Both Bucky and Natasha had been told that they would get to raise the baby in order to teach them whatever they both knew.

The arrangement had seem ideal, and the two super soldiers had been so blinded by their love and their idea of a family that they believed it.

You were born nine months later, Bucky wasn’t present for the birth, he wasn’t allowed to be, which they now knew was for the fear of him being able to overpower them out of anger when they would try take their little one away.

They had let Natasha hold you for two minutes. She would think about and cherish those two minutes for the next seven years.

The second they placed into her arms you had stopped crying.

Natasha couldn’t believe something so beautiful and pure had come out of the love she shared with James. But there you were, blue eyes staring up at her green ones.

It felt as though the second you stopped crying she had started to cry of joy, she hadn’t cried since she was eleven and being taken with Yelena back to the red room.

You were her beautiful girl and she couldn’t wait to raise you with James by her side. Y/N Rebecca Romanova Barnes is what she called you, she and James decided in it two weeks prior, Y/N was a name Natasha thought to be beautiful, she had picked that out, while Rebecca was the name of James’ little sister whom he was close to as a child.

Although soon her happy tears turned to ones of anguish when you were ripped from her arms by one of the doctors.

“Your baby is sick, Natalia!” He yelled at her. “She won’t make it through the night.”

For seven years Natalia didn’t know wether or not he had lied. Which of course he had.

Bucky had been told that Natalia hadn’t survived the labor, and that their baby, you, had a lung disease that would take her within twenty-four hours.

He had never felt such pain, not even when he fell from the great heights that cost him his arm.

His love was dead, and his sweet daughter was soon to follow.

They let him hold you for the same length of time they let your mother hold you.

“Did Natalia tell you her name?”

He asked the doctor who shook his head.

“Her name is Y/N Rebecca. I want her buried where ever the rest of my family had been buried. Please. Her name is Y/N Rebecca Romanova-Barnes. Do you understand? And I want Natalia buried there, too, with our daughter. Not in some random forest or field where her grave isn’t even marked as such.”

He looked at you and you looked back at him. You looked perfectly healthy, he could already see the red hair on your head, although you had his eyes, he knew that you looked more like Natalia than him.

A kiss was placed on your forehead before they took you from him.

To Natasha, it felt as though you had been ripped from her arms all over again.

You had made it five years, you were so close to getting them back just as they were so close to getting you back. But you had died just a few hours, minutes even, before they were returned.

Nobody would ever be able to comprehend how much the both of them thought about that detail.

After five long years, it was a few hours that ripped you from them again, the took away all your opportunities.

They had been informed of your desire to be become a doctor and they couldn’t have been more prouder. You were stepping away from the dangerous side of the life you were born and brought into. You would still be helping people but in a way that was still much safer for you.

But you could never be that doctor you had wanted so desperately to be. Because you were dead. Your body was on Vormir, despite how much Bucky and Natasha begged for it to be retrieved it was hopeless, they were told by every single person that they asked that it was far too dangerous.

Did they think that they didn’t know that? You had died on that god forsaken journey, but that was a sacrifice, a sacrifice they both felt should be honoured by giving a proper funeral with a body to bury.

Not a single person understand their pain. Everyone else got their children back. Clint and Laura got their daughter back.

Natasha couldn’t help but lie awake at night and wish that you had allowed Kate to do it instead. She wondered why you were so willing to leave them.

She was proud of you, so was Bucky. You had given up everything, your future, happiness, your entire fucking life for Kate and trillions of others. But that didn’t take away from their sense of loss.

When they had first been informed about your death there had been denial. They were convinced that you came back along with everyone else. They were so sure of it. But overtime it became clear that that wasn’t the case, in turn they told themselves that they could find another way to bring you back somehow. That didn’t work either.

The anger set in soon after.

It was anger mainly directed towards Steve, Bruce and Tony. How dare they allow you to take part in the mission. Especially one to Vormir.

Natasha felt it was a form of betrayal. All the three men knew Bucky and she would never have allowed you to do something like that.

As much as Bucky hated to admit it he had been angry at you for a while, also.

He wished you would have walked away. Your life wasn’t worth what was given in return. So many people would say otherwise. But those people didn’t know you as he did. You weren’t those people’s child. They didn’t know how pure you were. How beautiful you were on the inside. How smart you were.

To them you were just a prop. To them you were just a sacrificial lamb. And Bucky couldn’t stand that.

Then there was bargaining.

They went to Vormir.

And they saw him. They saw the Red Skull.

It had been a long time since Bucky had seem him. But for him, it wasn’t long enough. The bastard deserved death.

They had begged him for them to be able to see you. Just one last time. Just to say goodbye. The goodbye Bucky had said in Wakanda was not nearly as good enough.

Natasha didn’t even get a goodbye.

For Bucky you had been right in front of him one second that then you were gone. Dead.

For the two of them you were there one minute then gone the next. Literally. To them those five years had been ten seconds.

The Red Skull told them that the only way they would see you again was if they looked down.

Neither dared to do so. Look down the cliff where you probably were.

They didn’t know if that made them selfish. That they had wanted nothing more than to see you once more, yet hen they were really given the chance they didn’t take it.

But they couldn’t see you like that. You would have been unrecognisable.

They didn’t know what to do anymore. So they left.

Then there was the depression. The part they felt would never leave. The part that would forever be unbearable.

The life they had both yearned to have with you had been pulled right out from under them in what seemed to them to be a matter of seconds.

Now they were doing whatever they could to assure themselves that you had lead a happy life those past four years.

Which brought them here.

When Natasha removed her hands from her face she felt she could suppress the tears a little longer until Steve left.

“I think... I think that over the past year... I think it was getting better. I think she accepted it. She accepted that everyone was gone. She had learned to be grateful for who wasn’t gone. And she was beginning to cope better.” Steve said solemnly, watching the faces of his two best friends intently, wanting to know what they were thinking.

Bucky picked up a picture of you and stared at it.

He felt like he hadn’t seen this girl in the picture before.

The girl in the picture was his little girl. His Y/N. But you didn’t look the way you did when he was blipped. The girl- woman- in the picture wasn’t a child. She wasn’t twelve. And that hurt him like hell.

He and Natasha both missed even more of your firsts that they already did from when you were a child.

They missed your first day of high school and your first game of each individual sport you played. They missed so many birthdays and Christmas’s, Natasha and Bucky had been planning on gifting you a cat, although Tony ended up fulfilling that plan on your birthday. It wasn’t them watching all your games, it was Steve.

They had purchased a home out of the city and away from the compound to retire and to raise you together, to provide you with a happy childhood with loving parents. But instead they were taken from you, and you were raised as an orphan at the compound only to die a half an hour before they came back from the blip.

That was a horrible thought for them. Five years without them only for you to miss out on getting them back by half an hour. Half an hour. Life fucking reeks of shit.

“if I ever lay eyes on that little-”

“It happened years ago, Natasha. Hurting that girl won’t bring her back.” Steve replied as he patted his friend’s shoulder, trying to comfort her. “Nothing will.” Natasha mumbled, her eyes seeming far away. “My baby’s dead. She’s dead. They told me she was dead two weeks after she was born, I mourned her. Then I learned the lied and I got her back. I felt the moment of sweet relief and I held her in my arms that I swore that she would never leave again. And now I have to mourn her again, but this time she’s actually gone! I have to mourn my baby twice in my life! No mother should ever-ever have to-”

Natasha stopped speaking the second her voice gave into the tears and she was pulled into Bucky’s loving arms.

“She would want us to find happiness, Natasha.” Bucky murmured into her hair, though he didn’t know how to do that himself. How could he find happiness without you there? You were his child, his only child. He had lost you once before too, so he understood what Natasha meant. Twice. How could a parent ever get past losing a child twice.

“I know.” Natasha cried. “I know, dammit. But what I don’t know is how. She was- It- it feels like she was just 12 James! It feels like a year ago to me that she was 11! But we suddenly turn to dust in a fucking field in the middle of Wakanda and we miss 5 years with her? The rest of her life.”

“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same way.” Bucky sighed.

Natasha was never one to cry. Ever.

She had survived the Red Room. She had trained in some of the most horrific places this world had to offer. She was like steel.

But she couldn’t do this.

She couldn’t keep herself together while knowing you were lightyears away on a different planet. Dead.

“We’ll find it, Natalia.” Bucky said, tears in his eyes. “We’ll find happiness again, we’ll do it for her. We’ll live everyday for our daughter. She gave her life so we could return here. We can’t let that be in vain.”

Natasha picked your sweatshirt back up off the coffee table and squeezed it before nodding, listening as Bucky continued.

“We’ll retire just like we wanted to do before, ok? We’ll go somewhere where nobody will ever be able to disrupt our peace, we’ll bring the cats. We’ll bring her things, from before the blip and after. She’ll never really be gone as long as we have the memories, Nat.” He sniffed. “We can live on a farm, like Clint. She liked all his animals, remember? Or we can live by the sea. She loved the sea, she loved the waves and running by the shore, you remember that? I bet she’s up there right now at peace, free even. Running by the water, listening to the waves.”

Bucky watched as Natasha glued her eyes shut and clutched the sweatshirt tighter.

“We’ll see her again, Natalia. But not for a while.” He forced himself to smile at the love of his life. He had to be strong for her. “And when we do see her, I want to be able to look her in the eye and tell her that we’ve taken our second chance and lived our life to the fullest. The second chance that we have because of her sacrifice.”

Natasha sobbed again. “But-But I can’t let her go.”

Bucky shook his head. “We won’t. We’ll never do that. She’ll always be the first thing I think of when I wake up and right before I fall asleep. We don’t need to get over her death fully, we just need to learn how to cope.”

The Black Widow wiped her eyes. “I’ll always miss her.” She sniffed. “Always.”

Bucky placed his palm on her cheek. “I’ll miss her just as much.” He murmered. “Always.”

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@wackymcstupid @battleg03 @griffin-girl-r @natashasnoodle @tynix @violetromanova @blackwidow-3 @simp-erformarvelwomen @shin-conan-kun @youre-a-total--poser @padmeswife @adriennegutierrez @dumb-fawkin-bitch @ripofflizzie @circe143

#bucky x natasha #winterwidow daughter #winterwidow x daughter #winterwidow x daughter!reader #winterwidow #natasha daughter #Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff daughter #dad!bucky #Mama!nat #bucky barnes x daughter!reader #parent bucky barnes #parent natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #bucky barnes daughter #bucky barnes x teen!reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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