Pinky Promise | Katniss E.

pinky promise | katniss e.

𓆉 katniss everdeen x fem reader

summary: katniss made you a promise before the games, and now that she’s back she’s going to keep it.

cw: fluff!!, little angst, but not much, rain kiss scene bc why not??? sfw!!

a/n: first ever post!! might not be the best as im not that good at writing yet but thats ok. beginning takes place before the games and the end takes place after, time jumps are divided by a dash (-)

wc: 1.1k

your hands brush past the rough bark as you move briskly through the trees, keeping your eyes out. you hear a snap of a twig, causing your movements to halt as you listen closely. a hand places itself in the small of your back, causing you to let out a small gasp as you jump away, turning. you smile once you see who the hand belonged to, walking over.

“gosh, you scared me! you have to stop sneaking up like that.” you grin, katniss smiles back.

“if you’re going to be out in the woods, you have to focus better on your surroundings. who knows whats out here.” she replies and you roll your eyes playfully. she reaches out a hand which you take, interlocking your fingers as they brush against her slightly rough skin.

she leads you further into the woods, stopping at the edge of a lake. you let go of her hand and head to the edge, sitting upon a big rock that rests besides the water. you dip your fingers in, relishing in the cool sensation. katniss watches you for a moment before walking over and sitting besides you. you turn to her with a soft smile and she reaches a hand to brush the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“you always look so pretty, especially surrounded by nature.” you blush slightly, turning your head to look at the lake. she smiles at your reaction.

“i’m serious, you really do.” she says softly, watching over your features, her thumb gently brushing your cheek as she holds the side of your face in her hand.

you and katniss had been seeing each other in secret for a while, not wanting to risk anything with the chance of getting reaped still present for the next few years of your lives. you had known each other for only a few years, but it felt like forever. you chew gently on the inside of your cheek, thinking about the reaping which was upcoming in the next few days. katniss noticed the change in your face and her brows gently furrowed.

“what is it?” she asks, causing you to turn back to her. “what’s wrong?” you sigh softly.

“it’s just the reapings… what if one of us gets picked?” a slight hint of worry is in your voice. her hand still cups your face gently.

“it’ll be fine, they won’t take you from me. i won’t let them.” you shake your head slightly.

“but what if they take you?” she looks you in the eyes, gaze unwavering.

“i’ll come back to you. then we can be together.” you nod before holding up your pinky.

“promise?” you ask, to which she smiles softly.

“promise.” she confirms as she wraps her pinky around yours.

-

you sat on the couch, blunt nails digging into the armrest as you watched the broadcast of the annual hunger games. katniss had volunteered for her sister primrose who had gotten picked, and many things have happened since then. for starters, the male tribute, a bakers boy named peeta, declared he was in love with katniss. to make matters worse, you had to watch them as they kissed. you barely focused on the games after that, tuning in from time to time to get an idea wether or not katniss had survived, yet the bitter feeling of jealousy washed over you. you were never officially together, only in secret, so you couldn’t really be mad. maybe katniss just found something better and assumed because it was private then there wouldn’t be a point in discussing it. your stomach churned at the thoughts.

-

the day had come of katniss’ return. of course, she was returning with her newly found lover, yet all that mattered was she survived. at least, that’s what you tried to believe. you couldn’t ignore the feeling that washed over you when you saw the two of them get off the train together, holding hands. you couldn’t stop yourself from turning around and going home rather than trying to greet the other. you also couldn’t stop yourself from staying locked in your house, avoiding any possible encounters with katniss. you could only avoid the inevitable for so long, however.

you find yourself back at the lake you were at only a few weeks ago, watching the small tadpoles swimming around the clear water. there’s a light sprinkle of rain, raindrops falling softly onto your face. you don’t sit on the rock as you did before, instead standing off to the side. you feel a presence, causing you to turn around. you were greeted by katniss who offered a small smile.

“guess you started focusing on your surroundings.” she says slightly sarcastic. you chew on the inside of your cheek, turning back towards the lake. katniss’ smile drops as she walks over.

“hey, what’s wrong? you’ve been avoiding me ever since the games…” she starts, reaching her hand towards yours. the metallic taste of blood slightly fills your mouth as you bite harder down. you focus your gaze on the tadpoles.

“i’m surprised you even noticed, considering your new ‘star crossed lover.’” you mutter. she brings a hand to cup your face and turn your head towards her. your gaze finally meets hers, her hands are softer than before.

“he’s not my lover. it was for the games.” she breathes out a small sigh through her nose. “you are my lover, nobody can change that.” she smiles, and you feel your heart quicken.

you had been jealous of the boy, enough to not see the accomplishment katniss had made by winning the games. you offer a soft smile, shaking your head slightly.

“i guess i was jealous.” katniss lets out a small laugh.

“why?” you gently bite on your lip, looking down.

“because he got to kiss you.” katniss is silent for a moment, her thumb brushing your cheek.

“he doesn’t get to kiss me now.” she says quietly, causing you to look at her once again. her eyes are soft and she smiles slightly, and she starts to lean in. your eyes flutter shut as her lips meet yours. her lips are slightly chapped, but you could care less. she had come back to you. 

the rain seems to fall harder as you wrap your arms around her neck. after a while, you both pull away to breathe. you smile at her, fingers brushing through her hair she had chosen to keep down.

“i told you, i promised you.” you nod, giggling slightly. you take a moment to look her over, sensing a new level of maturity she gained from the games. even at sixteen, she seemed older.

“what?” she asks, causing you to focus.

“you’re just so pretty.” you say, and she smiles. you giggle slightly as she places another soft kiss on your lips.

she takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers together. you lean your head on her shoulder and look back to the lake, the rain going back to a slight drizzle as it splashes gently on the water.

Cherry Wine

[ next part ]

you meet your soulmate every night in your dreams, and tonight is no different. you just wish you knew his name is all.

tw: emotional cheating (maybe?), talk of abusive relationships (nothing descriptive, just mention), allusions to prostitution (I don't think it's outright stated?), mention of drowning, let me know if I missed something!

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i may or may not do another part depending on if people like this. idk it was really cathartic to write + i kinda wanna expand on reader's background + writing them meet

This was the only time you could ever meet. When the waves crashed over a dark beach, angry and relentless. Not even the moon existed in this place — nothing but skies as dark as the water stretched on forever. Even still, you looked forward to it every night. Sitting on the beach with him as the waves continued raging, until they eventually overtook you and you woke up gasping.

He insisted the beach never looked this dark. That it was never this terrifying. That it didn't continue to rise until it tried to drown you. He promised that one day, when you finally meet, he’d show you how lovely the beach truly was. How bright and warm the sun was, how cool and gentle the waves were when they lapped at your ankles. You didn't think you'd care what the beach looked like as long as he was there. If it was important enough to him to somehow make it through both of the clouded grays tormenting your minds, it was important to you too.

As long as it was him and not her. As long as it was the boy who’d hold your hand, who'd rub his thumb across your knuckles mindlessly, who’d try to comfort you and make you forget about your home life. On those nights, when he seemed able to calm you down, the ocean remained calmer for a longer time. On those nights, you half believed his promise of the beach being kind.

Even now, he looked so at peace standing by the rushing water. There wasn't an ounce of fear tensing his wide shoulders. Despite all his problems — at least the ones he confided in you — he still looked happy. When he saw the outline of your figure, a wide smile split across his face. He always beamed when he saw you — as bright as the sun, as pretty as the stars, as delphic as the moon.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice barely carried to your lonely spot on the beach. He started towards you, his smile never faltering. You followed suit, as fast as you could in the wet sand. “You look as pretty as ever.”

You knew he was messing with you. You were covered by your silk nightgown, arms crossed on your chest tight, trying to ignore the wind that nipped your skin. Still, though, you returned his smile with one of your own. “You look warm.” You answered back, laughing softly. “Be honest — is that real fur?”

For a moment, he was confused, as if he had forgotten all about the fact he was dressed to the nines. Looking down, he remembered. He wasn't at home and he didn't have the energy to change. He was quickly shrugging the coat off and draping it across your shoulders. “No. No, it's faux. In fact, if you look right here,” He stood behind you, lifting the arm of the coat closer to your eyes. “You’ll see how the fibers melted together.”

You wanted to look down at the sleeve, but you were distracted by the way his chest pressed against your back, how his arms slipped underneath your arms and wrapped around to your front, how his slow breaths were warm against your skin. You didn't think you’d be cold anymore, with or without the fur coat.

“How did they melt?” You asked curiously, your fingers clutching the open sides of the coat closer to your body. It smelled like honey and strawberries, it smelled like him. It washed over you, erasing the smell of cherries and wine. It made you forget.

“Well,” Finnick hummed, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder. You were sure his eyes were closed softly, intent on listening to you breathe and the sound of the ocean. “Would you believe me if I said I couldn't tell you?”

You pushed the disappointment that buried deep in your chest, a feeling you were all too familiar with. But, despite the hollowness in your chest, you nodded. You understood better than anyone why some things, even with your soulmate, had to be a secret. “I would. Makes it mysterious,” He laughed, which made you smile. “I can make up all sorts of stories.”

“Oh really?” Your words had caught his attention. You knew because his nose pressed against your neck. You knew because you could feel the smirk form. “Like what, darling?”

You didn't respond. Instead, you looked at the ocean, which had since calmed into a low roar. His large hands splayed across your stomach, pressing into your ribs as he tried to warm them between the silk of your nightgown and fur of his coat.

You wished you could have known his name or the district he lived in, but that wasn't allowed. Anytime you tried, the ocean screamed or washed away the letters in the sand before they were even formed. Or the sky darkened so much you couldn't see your own hands, most certainly not each other's lips.

“Mm. I don't know.” You responded quietly as your own hands slipped through the arms of his coat and wrapped around your waist. You held him closer with the excuse of trying to warm his hands up. “If I told you, it would ruin the mystery of it.”

“That's true, love.” He pressed a warm kiss against your neck. It filled you with so much warmth you thought you’d combust into a million stars. “I look forward to this every night. I'm sorry I couldn't make it last night.”

His apology threatened to split your heart in half. There was no reason to apologize in your eyes. Sure, the hollow disappointment that filled your aching chest when he didn't arrive hurt, but it wasn't his fault. You knew that something needed his attention more than you. “It's okay,” you promised. “I’m not mad.”

“I know,” Finnick mused softly. He pressed another warm kiss against your neck, your bodies swaying together. “But, you still deserve the apology.”

You swallowed thickly, forcing the lump growing in your throat back down. As if the ocean reflected your emotions, the waves started crashing against the beach in larger pulls, nipping your toes with icy cold water. He was everything you wished she was. Even after everything, an apology never slipped past her lips. Not that it would've made a difference anyways, because her actions never matched.

Not wanting to lose you just yet, he hummed once again. His fingers found yours and interlocked them. As if on instinct, his thumbs brushed across your knuckles tenderly. “How’s your wife?” He asked, but not really caring in the slightest. He wanted to find everything about you out, about your life, so that he might be able to find you and whisk you away.

You took a moment to respond, not trusting your voice. “She’s fine.” You felt him squeeze your hand, encouraging you to continue. “She’s, well, she’s stressed. She won't tell me why, though, so I can only help in limited ways.”

“Limited ways?” He questioned you, knowing better than the sweet way you put it. It wasn't fair the way she had the audacity to turn your skin cherry red. If he could have fixed it, he would have. You’d never have to worry about her again.

“It helps.” You insisted, eyes burning. Humiliation clawed your throat. Part of you wished you had never told him, but then, he wouldn't be able to comfort you. To be the one thing saving you. “She doesn't mean it. The anger just takes her over and overwhelms her.”

“Still not a reason to hurt you.” He reminded, and you could tell he was on edge. His fingers tightened their hold, holding you closer to his chest. “What was it this time?”

You pursed your lips as you debated whether or not to tell him. You decided against it. “Would you believe me if I said I couldn't tell you?”

He sighed softly against your neck and picked his head up to kiss your temple. “I would.” A beat passed before he continued. “But, I wish I knew so I could kiss it better.”

Your head dipped as you smiled softly, swallowing the laughing sob that swelled in your throat. You knew he was entirely serious, that if you told him all the broken parts of you, he would spend all the time he had fixing it. It was tempting to tell him, so that he could kiss it better, but there wasn't enough time in the world for him to do that. Not with the ocean at your ankles now.

“How was work?” You asked, gently trying to change the subject. You didn't want to think about her. Not when he was here, holding you closely. In this dreamscape, where you got to be with your soulmate, nothing else mattered.

It was you, your soulmate, and the ocean.

It was his turn to contemplate whether or not he told you. A heavy sigh escaped through his nose, his hands guiding yours over your stomach. He squeezed you close, as if just having you there made it easier. It probably did.

“Stressful.” he admitted, debating how much he should truly tell you. “Last night was hard. Tonight was even harder.”

Your head fell back against his shoulder, turning inwards so you could kiss his neck. His breath caught in his throat, the longing of truly holding you threatening to suffocate him. You felt the water crash against your knees and pretended to ignore it.

“I’m sorry, love.” You whispered, and he knew you felt it deep in your bones with how tight your voice sounded. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

His initial answer was almost no, but he decided to offer something. “Just tired of people thinking pretty jewels and expensive gifts make what they do acceptable.”

The fur coat grew heavy on your shoulders as you realized it was one of his gifts. He would have never worn something so gaudy. Part of you wished you realized the moment he put it on you, so that you could've dropped it into the ocean and watched it disappear from the dreamscape altogether, forever.

“Or fancy baths that smell like mulled wine,” You offered in addition. You felt him smile despite the dark narrative. At least you had that in common; the way those in your life refused to see you as human.

“I much prefer my baths with flowers.” He laughed, kissing your cheek. “Sea thrift, to be exact.”

The water at your thighs didn't bother you. Not with him behind you, holding you tightly. Not with him kissing your cheek — careful not to brush against your lips. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him fully, but he insisted on waiting until he saw you in person. Until the moment you saw each other awake, you’d have to make do with this. But, he made up for it all with his doting and warm affection.

“Sea thrift?”

“Sea thrift.” He nodded, instinctively holding you closer to him. His fingers squeezed yours so tightly it hurt, but you didn't stop him. “Armeria Maritima. With as many books as your wife has, I'm sure there's one about them.”

You raised a brow, giggling. The sound made his chest swell with warmth. He loved you so much he was sure it would kill him one day. “Are you giving me homework?”

“Something to remind you of me tomorrow.” He answered — more so corrected. He would have loved to sit on the beach with you, card his fingers through your hair, and watch the waves, but tonight wasn't the night.

Usually, you got to spend almost all night together, only being torn apart when it was time to wake, but not tonight. Not with him away from home. Late to bed and early to rise. Your favorite moment was when you got to lay together, your head on his chest, half asleep with the buzz of the waves.

You were sure the beach could be a kind place. Full of kind, warm waters and sands. Even without ever visiting a real beach, it was your happy spot. All because of him. He pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I expect you to be able to tell me all about them.”

You turned around in his arms and buried your face in his chest. Her fingers gripped his white shirt, as his own slipped beneath the fur coat and clutched your silk nightgown. He didn't want to wake up. Not yet. It felt like he had just fallen asleep, and it truly wasn't fair that it wasn't your pretty face he got to wake up to.

“I love you, sugar.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You struggled to keep your head above water, but still found the voice to whisper back. “I love you, too.”

power and control | finnick odair [part one]

next part

grabbing his wrist and jerking it, twisting it away from your jaw painful enough for him to grunt out in pain and drop the hairpin – your grasp tightens around his limb as his expression twists to one of pain. your stomach churns and heart cracks. “it’s been a while, odair.” you spit coldly as your glare burns into his pretty sea-green eyes. twisting his arm further, he grunts out and nearly falls to his knees. hearing your mentor shout after you, you ignore her as you look into finnick’s eyes. “i’m heartless – you said it yourself. the only thing stopping me from breaking your arm is the vindication that’ll come from killing you in that arena myself.” and as you hear the steps of your mentor closing in, you roughly release finnick who narrows his eyes at you in a hot glare.

a glare of hatred.

you find yourself in the games again. hated and beloved by two vastly different sides, puzzled by ominous instructions, and in a far more deadly territory than before - yet what seems to be the biggest obstacle is the handsome capitol darling with tan skin and bronze hair. your former love, finnick odair, and the not so former feelings you harbor.

tags found below.

this story is a sequel to a story you can find here. it is advised to read that story before you read this one. thank you.

cw: none!

part one.

“i guess there are some perks to being a capitol wife.” you exhale shakily as you look at hemlock with no tears left to cry or screams to rip out.

all you can feel is the buzz of death, the searing hotness of shackles around your wrists, throat, and ankles. how stupid were you to think you could escape the games? you’d given up everything for the sake of security and safety not just for yourself but for the ones you loved. the ones you love. and they’d been reaped just as you had. with some pull, you get to say goodbye unlike the other tributes. and while you initially believed you wouldn’t be able to cry anymore, your heart squeezes and your eyes sting when you look to your son. he reaches out with chubby fingers and hands.

“my baby…” you shakily exhale. he babbles a cute ‘mama’. your brows sew up and you exhale shakily as you rush to a silent and solemn hemlock. the child boy smiles happily when you scoop him into your arms. your eyes squeeze shut and you keep your cries silent as your arm holds him close while the opposite hand holds the back of his head. blinking softly as tears roll down your cheeks, you exhale shakily as your son embraces you while toying with the clasp of your pearl necklace. your eyes flutter open and you look at hemlock with a hot glare, eyes narrowing. “i don’t have time to get into how you ruined my life and how this was all for nothing. if i die–”

“you’re not going to–”

“if i die.” you repeat harder, sharper as tears roll down your cheeks and you gently rock the child in your arms. “you can’t let him grow up like you. like any of the capitol bastards – my son won’t live to be a heartless monster that thrives off the misery of the poor.” there’s cracks in your voice, a tightness where your heart pounds in your throat. your husband but not your love wears furrowed brows and a solemn expression you absorb with a soft scoff. shaking your head gently with a bitter smile, you tilt your head. “getting sentimental, hemlock? what happened to your–” and before you can finish your jab, he steps forward and embraces you with your child in your arms. your eyes widen.

hemlock has never embraced you out of pure intentions. it always came before something, usually sex. when he turns his head towards your ear, you hear an archaic language fold into your mind. blinking rapidly as your mind translates the language only 0.5% of panem can still speak – your eyes widen and your lips part in surprise. hemlock steps back and you exhale sharply, confusion and recognition burn through your mind as he slowly takes your child away from your arms. hemlock nods firmly, his brows furrowing tightly as he glances around the room. “please. i know you don’t love me and i don’t love you…but i care. i always have. if you want to live – do what i said. if you want to come back to him, do what i said.” and you exhale shakily, when your son begins to cry and reach out towards you.

but the doors swing open. “time’s up.” a white peacekeeper offers roughly and you drop your hand from reaching out to the wailing boy. confusion ceases your crying, a coldness stops you from screaming and tearing at your own throat again. wide, teary eyes can only watch as your son cries for you while hemlock holds him close. the two disappear through the wooden doors before they slam shut and you’re alone. all alone. blinking rapidly and exhaling shakily, you drop your face into your hands and shake your head gently. hemlock’s words echo through your skull as your eyes flicker to your mentor who walks in, her brows knitting as she meets your gaze.

you soon find yourself on the train. files fall down in front of you and you’re left to your own devices at a table adorned with a beautiful dinner. a glass of wine rests in your hand as your eyes flicker through the files gathered on the tributes you’ll be going up against inside of the arena. all past victors, people that have not only lived through the games but may have improved drastically. but you find confidence in yourself as much as you find buzzing anguish, dread, and ferocity. everyone no doubt believes you’re a pampered capitol trophy wife – maybe it’s grown true over the years but you didn’t spend your free time having teas and shopping with the other mothers. you did more, maybe because some part of you knew that you never would be free truly.

in your mind, you piece together the files and keep what’s important, the wine glass is soon forgotten with only two sips taken.

district one. gloss and cashmere – winners of the 63rd and 64th hunger games respectively. sibling duo. their strength lies in throwing knives. the two are pictures of beauty, golden blonde hair with angular faces and piercing sky blue almond eyes.

district two. brutus and enobaria – winners of the 42nd and 62nd hunger games respectively. their strengths lie in blades just the same, though enobaria has sharp teeth. two older tributes, she’s pretty with mahogany skin and inky hair while he’s worn by age with no hair but an immaculate physique.

district three. beetee and wiress – winners of the 32nd and 52nd hunger games respectively. they’re both smart, vastly intelligent. and truthfully you find yourself filling with more concern over them then the tributes your mind previously absorbed. intelligence is far more valuable than brute, especially considering how betee won his games. pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you toss their files into the pile you’ve taken to be potential allies.

though you know the chance of allies is low for you. for the past few years you’ve been capitol dog. a pampered trophy wife. a traitor. and as you sort through the files and tributes, your brows furrow and your heart bleeds. a traitor especially to one particular district four victor. you toss his file into the pile with the tributes from district one and two before you set mags’s file down into the pile with three’s tributes. you sort through the rest of the files, the ally section remains short and empty with only three files until you reach the last two files.

district twelve. peeta mellark and katniss everdeen – winners of the 64th hunger games. and the ones you’ve followed in the media the moment they were reaped. two star-crossed lovers so they told the media, you’re unsure if you believe them. it seems while peeta may love the pretty round-faced brunette it’s not certain she feels the same for the honey blonde boy. she’s the best with a bow, so says the file, but she’s soft when it comes down to it. you know it, you know it by the display with the little girl – rue was her name. but what drags at you as you look between the two files is what they’ve seem to done.

the revolting in the districts, the rumors and whispers of a revolution. it all began with that salute. your brows furrow deeply and you exhale sharply as hemlock’s words echo in your head yet again.

“keep katniss everdeen alive. whatever you need to do, do it. but don’t let her die.”

for a few moments as you gaze down at her photo, you mull over hemlock’s words. you wonder why he would say that, why he would whisper it in a language he spent years teaching you. wetting your lips as you admire her dark braid and almond eyes – your own eyes flutter shut as you think through interviews and the games themself. there’s a chance her and peeta are lying about their love, but if they aren’t – if it’s even one-sided – you can use it to your advantage. and you’re unsure whether to follow hemlock’s words, but he was serious and the words that had followed made your stomach flip.

you exhale deeply as you shut their files and drop them into the left pile. sitting on top of mags’s, beetee’s, and wiress’s files. when your mentor enters the room, your gaze flickers to her’s as she looks down at the piles from across the round table. her expression is thoughtful for a few seconds as she thumbs through the larger pile of files. “i’m assuming these are the enemies?” she questions with a tilt of her head. your brows twitch as her gaze meets yours, she smiles softly and shakes her head. “i know you, unfavorable. you think for the long run not the moment.” and you muster up a smile, turning away as she walks off and disappears through the sliding door yet again.

your gaze looks to the small pile of files and you blink softly. a deep exhale leaves your lips and your hand creeps into the pocket of your jeans. tugging out a photo, your gaze drags along the tan skin, bronze hair, and sea-green eyes of the district four victor. you wonder if he’s change. you wonder what’s going to happen when you find yourself face to face with him. it’s selfish of you – but you wonder if he still loves you. and it’s even more selfish of you to hope he hates you, to hope his love rotted into hate as a protection and coping mechanism. wetting your lips, you toss his photo to the ground and stand up from the table.

keep katniss everdeen alive and don’t die. that’s your mission and the only way to succeed is to make sure everyone else fails.

leaving the dining cart, you don’t offer your fellow male tribute a glance as you walk along the floorings towards you room. sitting around sulking and dreading won’t do anything. you’re sick of it all – the sadness, the anger, the grieving, the mourning – everything that’s plagued you since those peacekeeper’s took you. you’re sick of it all.

your happiness and comfort doesn’t matter anymore, ultimately it never did. the moment you were born in a district rather than the capitol your fate was sealed and decided. but you’re not taking it lying down. you’ve loved and you’ve lost – you’ve lost more times than you can count on both hands and feet. but you won’t lose again. even if it means fulfilling a chance to reach your son again you’ll take down anyone and everyone who tries to step in your way to that ending. not an ending of happiness, not an ending of warmth and joy and fairytales. as you enter your room and shut the door behind you, you exhale deeply.

you don’t need to be happy, comfortable. you just need to be satisfied. you need your dues back, there’s no freedom from the capitol or the games – so you’ll make the most of what time you have. all the while keeping katniss everdeen alive.

the capitol trophy wife. it feels all the more present when the time comes for your escort. you look at your reflection and exhale softly. “i look ridiculous.” you comment as your hands push down your figure and shape. your mentor and stylist both share a look as your eyes soak up the appearance you hold.

pretty wouldn’t begin to describe you. it seems trauma and time was all you had needed to become something beautiful enough to rival those of the capitol. and your beauty is focused in with colorful shadow over your eyelids and fluttering false lashes, a heart shape outlines your lips and round circles of blush paint your cheeks. there’s a thin layer of foundation across your skin to make it appear paler. your hair is style intricately with braids and pins, hanging off the edge of the sticks in your hair are rubies and garnets. and the attire. it’s intricate and a beautiful deep crimson to match the rest of your look, gloves soft and satin climb up your arms to your elbows. around the ring finger – your engagement ring in the form of threads.

“you’ve worked hard these past years to be seen by the capitol as one of them.” your mentor begins. your brows slowly knit and you turn to face her while gently tilting your head. her arms cross firmly over her chest, her expression is pensive and thoughtful as she nods at you. “you need to look like one of them for as long as you can and keep playing into it as hard as you can. you’re already stepping into the arena with more sponsors than any tribute could need – don’t jeopardize it.” and realization settles with her words. she’s right. you turn and look at yourself in the mirror before you turn back to her and nod gently.

“right.” you offer.

and soon enough, you walk along concrete and stone in tall heels with your back straight and chin up. the moment you step into the area where the tributes ready for the escort, you find eyes burning into you and conversation shifting into something quieter and more secretive. you don’t waver, your eyes admire the beautiful horses that attach to the carts and carriages – it’s been a while since you’ve seen one. a small smile threatens to split on your lips but you don’t let it as your gaze flickers along the space and atmosphere. the glares, dirty looks, and noses turning up confirm what you already know.

there’s a common enemy – and it isn’t the man to blame for the reunion of victors. but rather the traitor, the capitol trophy wife.

unfortunately for you – everyone has a weak spot. and while you’re grateful to not find him in sight quite yet, your cool and cold demeanor shatters when your gaze looks at the older woman gently petting a horse while feeding it sugar cubes. something in you melts and your eyes widen, lifting your gown off the floor a big smile spreads on your lips.

“mags!” you shout joyfully, grabbing many more eyes yet not feeling or seeing them when the older woman turns and her face lights up. she smells like sugar and honey when you find your arms embracing her tightly. her embrace is warm and as tight as she can muster. you exhale shakily as you feel that foreign sense of comfort and love for the first time in years. “i’ve missed you so much…” you breathe against her graying hair styled beautifully. you feel her tap your back twice. she missed you too. pulling away from the hug, your expression falters and you shake your head. “i’m sorry you’re here again…” you whisper softly.

mags’s eyes glitter with a sadness, but she shakes her head gently and reaches out. grabbing your hand gently, she squeezes it and smiles brighter at you – warmer. you smile softer at her as you blink away the sting in your eyes. it isn’t fair. she shouldn’t be back, she’s not going to make it in the arena. and yet your expression hardens as you hold her hand and squeeze it gently. “i’m going to do everything i can to make sure you live as long as you can.” you promise firmly, looking down into her eyes. mags blinks softly, she seems hesitant, reluctant – but she knows you. she simply smiles and brushes her knuckles against your cheek.

“get away from her.”

that voice fills your ears for the first time in years. your muscles stiffen up as you let go of mags’s hands. the voice isn’t charming, it isn’t warm or loving, the voice isn’t even pretending. it’s icy and cold, so much so that you feel a chill up your spine despite the warm weather. slowly, you turn around and your gaze drinks in the sight of the man before you. his brows furrowing and lips thinning as sea-green eyes seem to drink in your appearance. his muscles and broad chest are on display, a lot of skin – you refrain from the thoughts of who forced him into it.

you have two tasks – three tasks only. finnick doesn’t fall beneath either. and besides, he hates you, it’s best to keep your distance. no matter how much your heart craves to reach out. no matter how your muscles twitch and tendons pull with a natural body instinct to step forward and hold him. to grab his face and press his pink lips against your own. to inhale the scent of cinnamon and vanilla fully. you brush everything away, his eyes hold nothing for you but a bitterness and a contempt. just like the eyes of everyone but mags. with a roll of your eyes, you offer mags a smile over your shoulder before you walk past finnick.

“your luck ran out.”

just four paces away finnick’s voice drips out into the air that feels icy and thick. you stop and turn to face him, your brows furrowing and eyes narrowing as he wears a grin on his lips but his eyes glow with that contempt and bitterness. “what?” you ask tightly, sharply as your gloved hands fold down in front of you. and slowly, finnick walks closer to you. until he stands so close your gaze drags up to continue to hold his sea-green eyes. tilting his head, he reaches out and your muscles tighten when he snatches a hairpin from your hair and presses it up beneath your jaw.

“we’re going to be in that arena together finally. you’re not lucky anymore.” he offers coolly, his grin crooked and lopsided. the implications that hang off his voice, off his tone, they make your stomach churn and disgust curl around your insides. that familiar bitterness seeps across your tongue, your eyes narrow and your jaw sets. “being a trophy wife looks good on you, unfavorable. unfortunate that his money and connections won’t help in that arena, huh?” finnick taunts and mocks bitterly. and it happens too quickly, the heartbreak and the betrayal you feel by his switch – his warranted switch – drags at your muscles.

grabbing his wrist and jerking it, twisting it away from your jaw painful enough for him to grunt out in pain and drop the hairpin – your grasp tightens around his limb as his expression twists to one of pain. your stomach churns and heart cracks. “it’s been a while, odair.” you spit coldly as your glare burns into his pretty sea-green eyes. twisting his arm further, he grunts out and nearly falls to his knees. hearing your mentor shout after you, you ignore her as you look into finnick’s eyes. “i’m heartless – you said it yourself. the only thing stopping me from breaking your arm is the vindication that’ll come from killing you in that arena myself.” and as you hear the steps of your mentor closing in, you roughly release finnick who narrows his eyes at you in a hot glare.

a glare of hatred.

you step back and your gaze flickers around to take notice of those that seem to stare on with varying expressions. the looks of people who held presumptions and just found themselves wrong. maybe you were a capitol trophy wife, maybe you were a common enemy, maybe you were a traitor. but you didn't spend your years collecting dust on a shelf.

privilege didn't make you weak. it made you colder, stronger, better.

brushing past your mentor and back to your carriage, your legs feel oddly heavy as do your arms. an angry expression paints your features yet the bitterness and betrayal at his behavior doesn’t feel like anger. it feels what seems to forever exist inside of you. guilt. sadness. you blink back the tears that threaten to spill as you find finnick’s contemptful glare searing its image into your heart.

you made your bed years ago – for finnick’s sake and for mags. now you’re being forced to lie in it. and as you try to shake the weight off of your muscles, you contemplate what life would have been like had you not made the decision you made. maybe death would have been better than where you find yourself, but then again, finnick couldn’t die – mags couldn’t either.

something twists in your heart and you exhale shakily while petting the beautiful horse. killing finnick – you feel sick just after hurting him. your brows sew up and you press your forehead against the neck of the horse as a realization dawns. a horrible, gut-wrenching, and agonizing realization. you’ve known you love finnick. it’s as natural to you as breathing air. but as your mind flickers through the possible scenarios of what might happen in that arena, you realize and you know that when it comes down to it, you won’t be able to kill finnick. you won’t be able to even injure him.

but by that look in his eyes. he could kill you. as a matter of fact, he seems eager to. and you know when it comes down to it...you'll let him.

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. ˚◞♡  →  pretty lady, w. rojas

one shot trial one !

warren rojas | 4.5k 

just a fluffy warren one shot <3 awkward confession time, sweet kisses :-)

*not edited, forgive me for bad writing 🫶

warnings: the reader’s nicknames that are given are predominantly female – girl, lady, woman + no use of reader having particular features – skin colour, hair type, body type, etc | mainly sfw – though much kissing at the end !, use of nicknames (darling, hun, pretty girl/lady, sweets, etc), mature language

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power and control | finnick odair [part five]

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the words must be struggling against your lips that twitch as your arms remain crossed over your chest. “finnick…” you breathe his name as your eyes flutter shut. concern and worry oozes into him as he feels your hands gently place over his own. your eyes flutter open and you inhale deeply. pulling his hands down and squeezing them, you jump and finnick flinches when johanna’s voice fills the air.

“alright lovebirds! let’s go! all of you!” she shouts loudly. finnick turns to see beetee standing while johanna swings her ax by her side. finnick looks back to you and you exhale the deep breath with a smile.

“later.” you nod gently.

a reconnection is severed.

tags to be found below.

cw: none!

part five.

the air is cold against his skin and the waves crash on the sands of the beach. finnick’s brows knit together as his gaze watches the sea and the glitter of the sky against the water. everyone sleeps soundly, a plan concocted for the final kill on enobaria who somehow managed to escape despite the trident he pierced through her hand she caught. the cannon still had yet to fire off, she’s still alive. come midnight tomorrow – or today as midnight’s passed – everything should be as it is, as it was designed for the girl on fire. but finnick can’t think of anything else as johanna stirs awake on the sand beside your body, all he can mull over and suffocate himself with is the truth and the years he’s wasted.

years in which he was bitter, hateful, resentful, and broken inside. all he could ever do was blame you for doing that to him. he thought you didn’t love him, he thought everything you did truly was a manipulation tactic and ploy. all these years he couldn’t even see your face on the screens, he couldn’t hear your name without flinching. then came the announcement of the games. how horrible he was to feel joy – happiness that you were no longer untouchable by the fate you “chose”. when he saw you for the first time in years, standing before mags and smiling at her that damn smile he knew he was screwed. his entire plot for revenge, his entire want fueled by bitterness, betrayal, and revenge fell flat.

finnick tried. he tried to act on what his mind should have. finnick tried to be mean, to be cruel, to be something he wasn’t and something he didn’t want to be. but it burned him each time. it ached and it hurt, every interaction with you he found himself yearning with desperation. getting close just to smell you, threatening you and knocking into you just to touch you. like a man that’s been starving for years has his favorite meal in front of him. but your replies and responses, your threats and glares like those when you had met him – all they did was confirm in his mind that what happened all those years ago was real. you used him, you got married and had a baby with another man.

but in the arena he’d wavered. you risked your life for mags, you saved peeta’s life, you pulled him into the water and held him. you held him like you had so long before. but then you pulled away. he tried to push you away again, he tried as his grief for mags was limited without the luxury of properly mourning. but then as he came up from the water with johanna and beetee, his heart stilled when peeta ran over. the words that left his mouth kept his heart in his throat and left his limbs heavy.

“she ran after your screaming.”

jabberjays. he knew it the moment it was said. running after you and calling your name, there was no hatred, no bitterness, no anger – all he was suffocated with was concern and dread. fear. fear that you’ll be dead before he can confess, confess that his heart never wavered and beneath the sour layers lay a love not even you murdering him could take away. then he reached the forcefield and that fear suffocated him, your expression of pure fear stained with tears broke and shattered his heart in a way annie and his child’s death had. you took down brutus with such ease, but enobaria was smart. she used him against you – how selfish of him that he found warmth that he could be used against you.

then your blood splattered against the forcefield. katniss’s screams and johanna’s burn and sear into his mind still as his half-lidded eyes burn into the waters. finnick ran, he ran as quickly as he could and he ignored the burning in his lungs and legs until he found himself in the atmosphere that seemed almost too perfect against you. because not a single jabberjay came. enobaria escaped but he didn’t care, he didn’t care as he held your limp body in his arms. all he cared about was you, all that burned through him was hot, blinding, nauseating fear that he may hear a cannon fire off. it was music to his ears before but it’d be a death toll for him now.

and johanna spilled everything the moment he laid you on the sand. guilt. guilt danced a deadly dance with fear inside of him. and they dance together yet again as finnick wonders how difficult it’s been. you truly hate the capitol, you hated the capitol and you loved him. but you wanted him to live, you wanted mags to live. and finnick was cruel.

finnick exhales shakily as johanna sits up and rubs her eyes after dusting the sand off of her. he pulls from his own thoughts as his eyes fall to your body beside johanna. “what if she doesn’t wake up…?” he breathes so quietly into the night air it hardly feels like there's a disturbance. there’s a split across your cheek and on your bottom lip, bruising forming along your jaw and blood still staining the fabric of your suit. johanna sits up and she pulls the ointment a sponsor sent you, hemlock, from beneath the sand. “her last memory of me will be me being an asshole.” finnick speaks slightly clearer, louder.

“she’ll wake up.” johanna’s voice is laced with slight annoyance as she opens the canister and begins to apply the ointment along your skin yet again. but there’s a certain gentleness to her tone as she applies the ointment gingerly. “she has a kid to live for.” she points out before she shakes her head gently. then her gaze flickers to finnick’s who’s gaze bores into you. you took so many hits to the head and ribs. “hey.” blinking softly, finnick looks at johanna with a sting in his eyes and lethargy on his arms. she furrows her thin arched brows slightly and shakes her head. “you were reacting reasonably for someone who got their heart broken. i bet she knew that.”

you probably did. yet still his guilt and fear only worsen. inhaling deeply, exhaling just the same, his brows stitch slightly and he smiles in a crooked manner at johanna. exhaustion pulling at his eyelids and smile. “you warmed up to her quickly.” he observes as she rubs the ointment onto the fabric of her leg before she closes the empty canister with obvious irritation and annoyance. she glares at finnick hotly before she scoffs.

“you know why i’m being uncharacteristically merciful.” johanna offers pointedly, her voice lowers and quiets.

“to katniss yes.” finnick grins. “but to her?”

a sharp scoff escapes her lips again and she drops her gaze down to your face, your head laying in her lap. finnick notices the way her thin lips twitch as her brows furrow deeply. johanna shakes her head gently and gingerly brushes a piece of hair away from your face. “she said i wasn’t scary.” her voice is uncharacteristically soft but still holds that edge. finnick blinks slightly and she shakes her head with a wry chuckle. “maybe we would have been good friends.” johanna mutters as she tilts her head just a bit. finnick finds a slight warmth for johanna, to see her easing up slightly – for you is unexpected, you’re not necessarily the friendliest.

so he thought. but a lot of time has passed. you’ve changed. you’re softer. maybe because of your son.

“if things go according to plan you still can be.” finnick hums. johanna’s lips twitch into a momentary smile as she nods. there’s only a momentary lull of silence before a sharp inhale draws finnick’s sea-green eyes to you. sitting up quickly as johanna does, he calls your name with disbelief washing through him. you stir on johanna’s lap and he kneels beside you on the sand. when your eyes flutter open, his lips part for a shaky exhale of pure relief. the relief that washes over him is like a cold wave hitting a burning fire. “thank god…” he chokes out as your brows twitch and you try to sit up.

“no. no. lay down.” johanna orders quickly and you whimper softly as she pushes down your hand that attempts to press to your wounds that must ache and throb unbelievably rough. “are you okay? can you remember anything?” she asks the questions that burn and sear into finnick’s mind. your eyes flutter shut and open as you grunt and grind your teeth with discomfort and pain. finnick’s hand gently reaches out to smooth down your hair slightly crunchy with your blood and brutus’s.

i-i’m okay…” wetting your lips, your brows furrow. “i–the last thing i remember is–being under enobaria…where am i? what happened?” your voice is dry, it’s coarse. when your eyes flicker towards finnick’s, he blinks softly and feels his heart squeeze at the surprise that paints your face. “f-finnick…?” you breathe out his name and he nearly crumbles as tears sting his eyes. johanna clears her throat and she gently lifts your head to help you sit up, finnick looks to her and she nods.

“i’ll get you some water and try to get some food.” she says before she stands and walks away.

sitting up, you wince sharply as your hand presses into your forehead and your other grasps at the sand. finnick reaches out and he gently grasps your shoulders. he feels you stiffen up beneath him, your eyes look to his and they search his. as if he’s reading your mind despite all the time that’s passed, he exhales shakily and nods. “johanna told me everything.” he admits as his hands slowly pull away from you. your eyes widen and your lips part, he refrains from doing what he wants. from kissing you until he passes out, from hugging you so tightly your heart might just meld with his. your eyes dart as if trying to piece everything in your mind, then your bottom lip trembles and tears brim along your waterline.

“i’m so sorry…” you choke out as tears spill down your cheeks.

and immediately, finnick’s self restraint dissolves and he reaches out. his hand grabs the back of your head and his arm wraps around you. pulling you close against him, he pets your head while shaking his head and gently rocking. finnick feels your hands bunch up in the fabric of his suit against his back. “no. i’m sorry…i–i’m sorry for everything and i’m sorry you were forced into that–but–” finnick shakes his head and his eyes screw shut as tears slip down his cheeks. pain and ache wash through him hotly. “why did you do it…? you could have told me – you could have talked to me.” and you sniffle as you pull away, his hands hold your face gingerly as your hands rest against his chest.

“i–i couldn’t. i made my choice because i know you–i know you would have done everything to avoid the end.” you confess with a quick manner of speaking as your teary eyes hold his. finnick’s brows furrow upwards and he sighs shakily as you look up into his eyes. “i sold my life away for yours, f-for mags.” pain flashes in your eyes and his eyes flicker between yours as you swallow thickly, your brows sew up as your lips part and shut. “because i lo…i love you, finnick.” you cry those words he’s wanted to hear since the moment your hands took his heart and even after your hands were forced to drop it and shatter it. finnick blinks back rapidly and he presses his lips against yours.

the broadcast doesn’t matter, the cameras don’t matter. and as you kiss him harder he knows the pain doesn’t matter. finnick’s entire body washes with warmth as he feels your lips against his. it feels as if years of mourning, grief, and opportunities that passed fold into the kiss so deep and hard he can taste the copper of your wound and the ointment that’s spread over it. you both pull away for air, gasping and panting heavily while holding one another’s face, big smiles paint your features while tears stain your cheeks. sea-green eyes meet yours and finnick laughs out happily as he shakes his head, everything is bad, everything is deadly – but if things go according to plan, if katniss stays alive…maybe he can have his years back with you and more.

“oh! okay let me fill you in.” finnick nods as he pulls away reluctantly.

you nod gently and you’re attentive as finnick explains the plan with beetee, to bring enobaria and ‘chaff’ to the tree where the lightning hits come midnight. you nod and listen along with a crease between your brows, glancing around at those that lay asleep on the sand. finnick wishes he could tell you about the entire plan, why katniss needs to stay alive and why peeta is so important. he wants to but he won’t risk the cameras or microphones picking up anything. all he has to do is make sure you’re with him and katniss when it comes down to the final midnight. when everything will truly change. you agree and absorb the plan.

only when johanna walks over with a small fish in hand and a sliced piece of wood with water do you stand and rush over to her. finnick watches as you hug a stunned johanna, a small smile paints his lips as you no doubt thank her for taking care of and dressing your wounds. johanna rolls her eyes at you as you probably thank her more for the water and fish you take from her hands. with the fish in hand, you down the water hungrily and finnick takes notice of the slight smile on johanna’s lips as she watches you. his chest warms and he exhales shakily as his eyes fall down to his hands, his brows twitch as his gaze then falls to katniss – to beetee.

god he hopes the plan works.

the dynamic in the group shifts to something far better after finnick and you manage to find your footing with one another. no more secrets lie in the air. after everyone awakens and eats while drinking copious amounts of water from the spile in a tree. the sun rises then begins to fall across the horizon yet again, everyone seems to sit in their own little pairing. beetee sits with johanna with his wire roll by his footing, katniss sits with peeta, and finnick stands with you while looking out at the sea. but finnick senses something’s wrong with you, your arms cross over your chest and you wet your lips as you look around to the others.

“what are we going to do once the last of the careers are dead?” your voice fills the air softly as you shake your head. your gaze meets finnick’s and he finds his heart squeezing as a deep sigh leaves your lips. “i don’t know who’s going to attack first once it’s us left but i–” setting your jaw and shifting with your shoes in the water, your eyes pull from his sea-green ones to the waters. “i don’t think i’ll be able to kill any of them.” you confess, he can see the way you blink softly. finnick feels more guilt, his inability to spill the truth to you.

turning to face you and gently pulling your hands, you face him with your brows sewing upwards. “if anyone would have to leave this arena it’d have to be you, you know?” finnick offers softly, his brows furrowing in a pensive expression. you shake your head and pull your hands away from him but he steps closer to you. his voice spills before yours does, his gentle hand pulling your cheek to force your gaze to his. “you have a son. he’s protected for being hemlock’s child but he needs his mom.” finnick reasons with a raise of his brows, no room for debate in his gaze.

and your eyes dart between his. he can see that look in your eyes, that look you held the day he left you. it’s a look of worry and concern melding with a want to say something. the words must be struggling against your lips that twitch as your arms remain crossed over your chest. “finnick…” you breathe his names as your eyes flutter shut. concern and worry oozes into him as he feels your hands gently place over his own. your eyes flutter open and you inhale deeply. pulling his hands down and squeezing them, you jump and finnick flinches when johanna’s voice fills the air.

“alright lovebirds! let’s go! all of you!” she shouts loudly. finnick turns to see beetee standing while johanna swings her ax by her side. finnick looks back to you and you exhale the deep breath with a smile.

“later.” you nod gently.

finnick wants to know what it is now, but if everything goes according to plan you’ll have all the time in the world. he smiles at you and squeezes your hands. “okay. let’s go.”

walking through the jungle atmosphere under the blanket of night, you trail in the middle of the group where beetee also walks for his protection and safety – finnick stays in the back with peeta and johanna. leaves and twigs crunch beneath the steps of the tributes. when that familiar sound slices through the air everyone stops and finnick’s gaze flickers up to the night sky. the tributes faces and their numbers display, his brows knit and his chest squeezes in pain when he sees mags’s face. exhaling softly as the images continue, the music ends and everyone turns away to keep walking.

eventually the group reaches the tree. finnick walks forward as beetee’s voice spills.

“minimal charring.” he observes as he fixes his frames. “impressive conductor.” then his eyes sweep the group. “let’s get started.” everyone follows as he walks forward, finnick catches your eyes and his heart beats quicker when he smiles and you return it. “typically a lightning strike contains five billion joules of energy. we don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity when this hits.” finnick observes the way he fixes the wiring before he pulls the roll and his eyes flicker along the group. when his eyes land on johanna and katniss, he nods. “you two girls go together now and take this.” katniss blinks softly as he hands her the roll. “unspool it carefully, make sure the entire coil is in the water, you understand? then head to the tree at the two o’clock sector. we’ll meet you there.”

peeta suddenly speaks up. “i’m gonna go with them as a guard.”

beetee shakes his head. “no, no, no, no – you’re staying here to protect me.” he pointedly offers. finnick senses the tension and reluctance in the two as blind as you to what’s happening. “and the tree.” beetee adds.

but peeta shakes his head. of course it won’t be so easy. “no, i need to go with her.” he emphasizes.

a sigh of irritation leaves beetee’s lips. “there are two careers out–”

“i’ll go instead of katniss.” finnick’s eyes snap to you and you step forward with a nod. slight worry and panic begins to spill into him as you walk over to katniss and smile reassuringly while taking the coil from her hands. “katniss is more observant than me and her bow will work better if she sees a career coming. i’ll go with johanna.” finnick can see the relief slightly push off of katniss’s shoulder as she looks to peeta.

finnick steps forward and shakes his head. “no – you’re staying with me. this shouldn’t even be an issue. we agreed to–”

“finnick.” you offer with a gentle hand to his chest. his sea-green eyes look down into yours that sparkle with the lights above. nodding gently, your other hand visibly tightens on the coil in hand. “it’s fine. i’ll be okay. you three need to watch over beetee.” finnick wonders what the hell you’re doing, and he knows it soon after as you smile at peeta and then katniss. you truly have softened, maybe because they’re in love or maybe because you trust them. whatever it is, finnick worries as he shares a look unknown to you, katniss, and peeta with johanna and beetee.

when beetee offers a subtle, stiff nod. finnick exhales deeply as he shuts his eyes for just a moment. he looks to johanna who wears an expression of concern before he looks to you. “okay.” he nods and you smile at him as your hand pulls away from his chest. leaning up and planting a kiss against his lips, finnick begrudgingly lets you pull away. “i’ll see you at midnight, alright?” he says it as if to reassure himself more than you. you nod gently with a sweet smile before you look to the others.

finnick watches you leave, his jaw tightening as you disappear through the brush with johanna.

beetee continues with what he’s doing. a few moments of silence pass when the wire that’s been pulled taut suddenly falls flat. finnick’s eyes look down at the wiring and his eyes widen. “the wire…” katniss breathes and she tugs out an arrow with her bow pulling off of her. finnick grabs her shoulder before she can run.

“you two stay with beetee!” he orders loudly before he begins to follow the wire, running through the brush with his trident in hand. “johanna!” he shouts before your name follows. it’s a pattern, your name and johanna’s. as he runs through the jungle and follows the wire to the end, his heart begins to slam in his chest as worry and fear oozes into him hotly. when a canon fires while he runs blindly, he stops abruptly and his eyes widen. screaming out your name more desperately as he runs, he shakes his head and rounds back. you would go back, you’re smart enough. but when he reaches the tree his eyes widen to find nobody. “katniss!” he shouts as he looks around.

only when he shifts in the brush do his eyes land on hers, and the arrow she points at him. katniss breathes heavily, her eyes narrowing. finnick swallows thickly, where did peeta go? that question isn’t as important as what faces him. “where is she and where’s peeta? he ran after her.” katniss breathes in an accusatory manner. finnick blinks and he holds up his hands with a shake of his head.

“katniss…remember who the real enemy is.” he raises his voice slightly. and to his relief, after a few moments, she lowers the bow. but the rolling sound of thunder and lightning soon dips his relief into dread. his eyes flicker up the sky of storm clouds and his gaze falls back to katniss. “katniss get away from that tree.” he orders loudly as she begins to wrap a wire around her bow. and as his eyes dart down, he runs towards her desperately. “katniss get away from that tree!” he shouts desperately. but she pulls back the bow and aims it upwards.

a flash of light is the last thing finnick sees before his back hits the ground and his head knocks against a rock.

it feels as if unconsciousness lasts only a few seconds but it lasts much longer than that. finnick’s fingers twitch and his eyes dart back and forth beneath his eyelids. slowly, the blanket of unconsciousness falls off of him as his eyes flutter open. numb sore pain settles in along his body as he feels cool metal beneath him. then he gasps and wakes up, his wide eyes looking around the aircraft and relief floods through him as he touches the oxygen mask on his face. sea-green eyes dart to his left to see katniss, more relief pours in then his eyes look past her to see beetee. but as he slowly sits up, he finds no sight of you, johanna, or peeta.

slowly standing up, he looks to the pathway leading down to a door. plutarch and haymitch’s voice falls through the door distantly. “we can’t guarantee either of their cooperations without the boy and the girl.” haymitch’s voice falls through the air raspy and slightly worn by years. finnick blinks back rapidly and he feels dread drag his heart. “katniss especially, if peeta isn’t–” and the door slides open. finnick’s sea-green eyes look from haymitch to plutarch. and by the looks on their faces he receives all the information he needs, information that will no doubt pierce a staff through katniss as it does through him.

“where…are they…?” yet he still asks with a tight voice.

haymitch’s eyes shut. “the capitol.”

and finnick leans against the wall as his hand presses over his heart. “i just got her back…” he mutters out. “i just got her back…” he mutters as he sinks down to the ground while haymitch walks over to him.

he just got you back.

and you’re gone again.

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The Feral One • Ch 24

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

The moment y’all have been waiting for…

Content Warnings - Very descriptive gore, death, injury, lizard mutts

Your body is full of aches and chills as you trudge your way through the capital sewers. You definitely have a fever but there’s not much the squad can do at this point. They’re determined to get to Snow’s mansion.

Luckily, one of the cameramen knows the underground routes of the capital so the group isn’t at risk of getting lost. Every inch of you protests as you walk deeper underground but with no way to contact the rebels, you’re stuck with your squad for the time being.

The group finally decides to take a break and enters a small room that’s out of the water. You slouch down in the corner away from everyone else. Finnick comes to sit near you but you growl at him.

“Get away from me!” you snap, causing the group to look at you. Finnick sits near you anyways but doesn’t make any move to touch you.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks. You shake your head no and the movement sends pain up your neck.

“My neck,” you groan. Finnick makes you tilt your head up so he can look.

“It’s spreading,” he sighs. He calls Jackson over to your corner.

“Is there anyway we can get her to medical?” he asks the woman. “It’s up to her neck now.”

“I’m sorry but communications are still down,” she shakes her head.

“I’m getting Katniss,” Finnick tells you. You want to protest but your eyes are really heavy as sleep tugs at you.

“She says it started with the headache,” he tells Katniss as she crouches down to look at the veins on your neck. “It was just on her arm but it’s been spreading. It’s not from a pod.”

“If it was something in the bloodstream it would be spreading faster,” she observes. “I’m thinking whatever it is, it’s not a poison from an external source. I’ve never seen this before.”

“Get away from me!” you sleepily snap at her. She moves and you quickly fall into a fitful sleep.

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

Katnissss

Tick! Tock!

Tick! Tock!

Katnisssssss

You jolt awake to Finnick shaking your shoulder.

“Mutts,” he tells you. “We have to move now!”

Suddenly full of adrenaline, you bolt through the murky depths of the sewers as the hissing gets louder. The veins seem to be spreading faster now, crawling their way up your neck to your jaw. Your squad mates panic at the sight of you but they all have bigger things to worry about right now.

You find yourself crawling through a small hole in the wall behind Finnick. You both stare as Jackson goes to enter the hole but she’s suddenly attacked by the mutts. At the sight of them, the black veins pulse upwards and start to rapidly spread.

“Come on!” Finnick yells at you. He doesn’t want to touch you but he will if it means pulling you to safety.

The two of you quickly catch up to the rest of the group. Katniss and Gale shoot arrows at the mutts, taking them down in clumps. Finnick makes you stay behind him as he spears the monsters with his trident. He had tried to give you a weapon but you refused it as your hands were in too much pain from the substance spreading inside of you.

The group progresses forward but the mutts don’t stop coming. Finally, someone sees a way out. Pollux motions for the group to climb a ladder but your vision is getting hazy and the sound of a clock pounding in your head blocks out everything around you.

Finnick watches in horror as your bright eyes fill with an inky black substance. You let out a low growl before lunging at one of the mutts and ripping its head off with your bare hands.

You quickly make work of the mutts in the room, ripping off limbs and gouging out eyes. Your squad continues to climb the ladder, leaving only you, Finnick, and Gale left at the bottom. You can’t see them though, you can only focus on your deep primal instinct to kill anything that comes at you.

One of the mutts catches you off guard, hitting you in the head. You cough up blackened blood before sinking your fingers into the creature and ripping out its tongue. It’s teeth graze your hand but you can’t feel anything but the urge to kill.

Finnick has to stop Gale from trying to pull you up the ladder.

“Don’t touch her!” Finnick warns. “She’ll kill you. She can’t recognize any of us.”

Gale quickly backs off and proceeds up the ladder. Finnick, though, had a predicament. How was he supposed to get you out of there without touching you? At this point even him being near you may set you off. He can’t just leave you here.

“Katniss!” he calls up, still fighting off mutts with his trident. “Sedative on an arrow. Now!”

Katniss understands exactly what Finnick wants her to do. She dips the tip of an arrow in sedative and shoots it into your shoulder. Not fatal, but hopefully it would knock you out.

The arrow to your shoulder further fueled your rage. You turn towards the ladder and grin, black foam spilling from your lips like a rabid animal. You go to make a leap towards your assailant when a mutt jumps onto your back, dragging you into the water.

The group watching can’t tell who’s blood is in the water, but there’s a lot of it. Scale covered flesh floats to the surface along with black blood. Finnick wants to help but he can’t see where the mutt is and he doesn’t want to stab you.

What feels like an eternity later, you emerge from the water, holding the spinal cord of the lizard mutt, the rest of its body in pieces around you. The remaining mutts recoil at the sight and slowly back away, fearing your presence.

You let out a deep growl, blood spilling from your mouth as the sound reverberates off the walls. At this, the mutts slither back down the tunnels, leaving you and Finnick alone.

As the adrenaline leaves your body, you begin to feel the excruciating pain of your wounds. Finnick is calling your name but everything is fuzzy. The inky substance flows from your eyes and ears as the soft tick of a clock pulls you under.

Ok but the urge to kill Gale was real lol

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