#( rebel propo ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ilguna · 1 year ago

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Piano Sessions: "White Leather" by Wolf Alice + Finnick Odair x reader, their relationship had just started when Quarter Quell happened and both sent to arena, when the rebels pull victors out she gets left behind but her tracker was taken out and the gamemakers can't find her in arena. so everyone assumes she's dead but she escapes. while she's on the run she thinks about the life she wants with Finnick (maybe she sees the propo he does and he says something about her death). as "star squad" makes their way through the capitol they are reunited.

☼ white leather (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, reader has an injury.

wc; 5.7k

prompt; Piano Sessions: songfic, white leather by wolf alice. not noticable.

The seasons are changing, the warmth is fleeting, and the loneliness is burrowing in your heart. While you were being roasted alive a few weeks ago due to the unrelenting heat, mother nature has since decided to be kind rather than cruel. With summer ending, it allows her to relax, iron fist loosening.

It’s perfect timing, too.

If you had to endure it for any longer, you think you would’ve stopped traveling, ultimately setting you back. It was different when you were in the arena, because you weren’t actively moving for the entire day, just in increments. Out here you have no choice, especially if you want to make it back.

The Capitol can’t be that much further. After walking in the trees of Panem for hours at a time for weeks, it has got to be around here somewhere. You know for certain that you’re heading in the right direction because you stumbled into District Nine by accident.

You didn’t even realize you had, even though you crossed through a fence to get inside. In your defense, there’s a lot of sectioned off areas inside of the wilderness, with no apparent reason why. What should’ve given you a clue was the burnt wheat field, stretching as far as your eyes could see.

In the distance, you could make out buildings, something that also wasn’t too unusual, considering that when the districts were formed after the Dark Days, a lot of structures were abandoned. You’ve been hopping between them, actually. It’s dangerous, they’re falling apart, and there’s critters absolutely everywhere, but you don’t have much of an option.

You’ve tried sleeping under the stars, it’s not at all comfortable. You get increasingly paranoid as the hours drag on, afraid of the wild animals coming across you. You’d be able to defend yourself, with the knife that you have from the Quarter Quell arena. In the case of a pack, you’d be screwed.

They’d tear you apart, and then you’d have to add on their damage to injuries you already have. The last thing you need right now is another infected wound. The one on your forearm is bad enough. It’s your own fault, you dug out the tracker prematurely, assuming that you’d be rescued out of the arena, because that was the plan.

When Katniss short circuited the dome using the lightning, she unintentionally messed up the plan, putting the rebels on a time crunch. They were able to get her, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena, you believe. Which left you, Johanna and Peeta behind. And Enobaria, but she doesn’t really count.

You ran across your allies, tried to tell them that if they didn’t want to fall into Capitol hands, then they had to escape that minute. Johanna, who usually trusts your judgement, was resistant to the idea of escaping the dome. She didn’t like the idea of having to survive outside of it, not knowing where to go. She wanted to play it safe, and if that meant enduring whatever the Capitol had in store, then that’s what had to be done.

You would’ve argued with her, possibly even convinced her, if the hovercraft hadn’t appeared above the three of you. They knew exactly where they were because of the trackers they still had. With you being set on not being captured, you ran, leaving them behind, while you got out of the dome.

They should’ve caught you. It was an open field for at least a mile, they easily could’ve seen you, shot you and scooped you up. You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life. Johanna and Peeta must’ve put up a fight, if it took them that long to grab them out.

You didn’t hear news for a long time, not until that farmer caught up with you in that wheat field. She was out of breath, face a bright red from running for so long, sweat running down from her temples. You paused, watching in slight amusement as she tried to catch her breath, clearly wanting a conversation.

“You… what are you… doing out here?” She gasped, a hand on her chest. “If the Peacekeepers catch you…”

At the mention of Peacekeepers, you were no longer smiling. “Where am I?”

Her face twisted. “Well, District Nine, of course.”

The burnt field clicked then, and you turned to look at it with new eyes. It also explained why the fence you climbed over was harder than the last few. Which then got your mind working, wondering if you’d been in District Nine the week before, because it was heavily barbed.

“My name is (Y/n).” You said, head shaking. “I don’t live here, I’m a victor from District Four.”

She squinted at you, unbelieving. She eyed your body, the clothes you were wearing, which is nothing but an undershirt, a pair of shorts and water boots. Not the typical clothing for a farmer out in the fields, you guessed. You came to the right conclusion, because her mouth opened.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” She told you. “How did you get out of the arena?”

“It fell apart. I simply climbed out.”

She made a noise, as if the answer was too easy. “Where are you heading? District Four?”

“No, the Capitol. How far away am I?”

“Close, but you’re going in the wrong direction. You need to get to District Two, they cracked the Nut.” She pointed over your shoulder. “If you get to the rebel base, they’ll help you there.”

You nodded slowly. “They still have Peacekeepers here?”

“We’re too close, that’s why they haven’t retreated. They’ve up and abandoned the further districts. They wiped out District Twelve completely.”

You tilted your head. “Everyone’s dead?”

“They bombed it, seen it in the propos with Katniss Everdeen. Some of her people made it out, they’re in District Thirteen now. Not much left of ‘em.”

“Right.” You murmured. “Thank you for the help.”

“Wait, don’t you want me to look at that for you?” She motioned to where you’d cut out the tracker. “It looks nasty.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Well, good luck.” She said, “You better hurry and get out of here.”

“I will.”

She nodded, watching as you turned away, heading for District Two. From what you’ve gathered, you’re confident enough to say that the Quarter Quell arena was placed in the space between Districts Eight, Nine and Two. When you picture the map of Panem in your mind, it’s the area that makes the most sense.

A part of you wishes that you’d taken up her offer on cleaning out the cut. You have some herbal knowledge, which is what’s keeping it from killing you, but that has nothing on real medicine. This could’ve been healed days ago, and it likely wouldn’t have left a scar.

There’s also so many questions that come to mind since talking to her. Parts of the conversation that didn’t make sense to you. The biggest one being her telling you that you should be dead. Why? At the very least, the Capitol should know that you made it out alive. Especially if they did a sweep of the arena and didn’t come out with your body.

Unless they figured that you escaped and you’ve died out here somewhere, starving and alone. Which is the dumbest conclusion that they could possibly come to. With your track history, the bare minimum that you’ve lived off of your entire life, including your Games, they should know you’re a parasite that you can’t get rid of so easily.

If there’s one good thing that’s come out of fighting in the Hunger Games, it’s that you know how to survive. It would’ve been harder to do if you were rusty, but your time in the arena was a refresher, setting you up to live out here, which is not nearly as difficult. You don’t actively have other tributes hunting you down every waking second.

If the Capitol really thinks that you’ve died, they have a surprise coming.

Your feet stutter a step when you realize what that means. It’s not just the Capitol, District Nine believes it too. There’s a good chance that they’re advertising it to the rest of the districts, then. You wouldn’t put it past them, they rub factors in your faces all the time, like District Thirteen. They led you to think that it’d been destroyed decades ago, when in reality, they came to an agreement that allowed Thirteen to slip out without the others noticing.

Oh, you hope that Finnick isn’t believing the same thing that girl did. You really hope that he wouldn’t take their word for it. But why wouldn’t he? District Thirteen didn’t have enough resources to rescue you all, and the Capitol was right there. Who’s to say that you didn’t die before they could get you out? Or that they didn’t kill you in captivity? Or that they’re secretly hiding you.

They could say anything they wanted about you, and he’d have no choice but to believe it because there’s no evidence proving otherwise.

You’ve been thinking about Finnick a lot lately out here while you walk, mostly your future. It was discussed briefly before the Quarter Quell, because the two of you had come to the agreement of volunteering for the Games. The conversation didn’t get very far after you started talking about the hypothetical rebellion if the arena did work out.

If you had it your way, you think you would’ve talked to him about what he wants to do after the rebellion, because you have so many ideas. Primarily, you’ll be able to travel, you won’t be held down by District Four. You and Finnick could spend months bouncing between districts, and come back home when you get tired of it.

For the first time in your lives, you’ll have freedom. You’ll be able to do anything you want with little to no limit. There will be no more Hunger Games, no more months of preparation with teenagers that have no choice. There won’t be any interruptions, something that held the two of you back for so long.

And you’re not talking about the Games being a burden, you mean the relationship you’ve been denying. You and Finnick have had unavoidable chemistry for years, but between district life and the Capitol, there was no room to explore until recently. And even that seems to have been a mistake, something that should’ve waited.

Except, neither of you could suppress the urges any longer. You were already sharing longing looks and gentle touches, there was no point in withholding the pleasures when you were already dipping into it. That’s why you made it official in April, four months after the announcement, three months before the reaping.

There had been countless nights where you stayed up, dreaming of the day where you’d be able to be yourselves. Where the stars would align perfectly to allow you to become more than just friends. When it finally happened, you almost didn’t believe the words coming out of Finnick’s mouth.

It’s been difficult to take it slow with him, because you feel like you’ve been dating him this entire time, under the table. You might not have been physical with him, but the emotional aspect was there. In your mind, he was already yours. And he admitted to you that he felt the same, that you belonged to him years ago.

You remember shivering when he told you that, because you had a feeling that it was true. These were words that you thought you’d have to wait to hear come out of his mouth. He was eager to tell you these truths, like a weight being lifted off of his chest. Like he’d been planning the exact moment they’d slip out of his lips in a whisper.

When this is over—when the rebellion is done—you want Finnick to yourself. It’s what you deserve at the very least, after all that you’ve been through. If it’s up to you, you’d want him to propose once Panem has begun to relax. You don’t want the teasing, or more years of build up. You just want to make him officially yours, forever.

Whatever comes after doesn’t matter. As long as you can say that he’s your husband, and you’ve agreed to love each other eternally. You’ll take what’s thrown your way with grace. You won’t ask for anything ever again. You’ll be especially good, if you could get what you wanted for once.

You step through the treeline into a meadow, letting you get a clear view of what’s ahead. You take a few steps before you come to a stop, staring at the colorful buildings in the distance. While you had tried your best to stay on track for District Two, you eventually came to the conclusion that you’d rather go to the Capitol, like you’d originally planned.

It’s not that far now. If you keep going, you think you’ll make it there sometime tomorrow.

—

Four hours. That’s all the time it took for you to realize that the situation has majorly changed here. The further you travel into the Capitol, the more it grows increasingly obvious. Especially if they’ve turned to violence to keep people out.

It’s a ghost town, which is not what you expected. The streets are usually crowded, with no space on the pastel sidewalk, crawling with people dressed in bright color. You were sure that you’d get spotted in the first minute of stepping foot into the city. It turns out that you had nothing to worry about.

Well, that’s not necessarily true. While you were temporarily relieved to find out that the outer half of the Capitol had been evacuated, you were put back on alert when you figured out why. There are traps placed on almost every street, with exponential damage to the buildings around.

You’ve yet to figure out if it’s the Capitol trying to defend themselves, or the rebels ensuring that if citizens return, they’ll be met with resistance. If you had to guess, you’re leaning more toward the Capitol. The way the traps are placed are methodological—it’s a pattern you’ve seen before. It reminds you a lot of the Gamemakers.

The traps are nearly perfectly hidden, the triggers in plain sight. You fell victim to the first few, but once you started to really notice where they were and what they’d contain, it was so much easier to avoid them. Once in a while, you’ll find yourself trapped, where you have no choice but to set them off. In those cases, you duck and cover, hoping for the best.

With the sun setting, you think it’s about time you call it a night. The last thing you’d want is to miss a sign and get yourself seriously injured. Everything is easier in the daylight. Besides, you covered a lot of ground today, more than you thought you would.

You stop in front of a lime green apartment building with front doors that are made out of frosted glass. You grab the handle, pulling it open to slip inside. The lobby is cool, reflecting the temperature on the outside. It’s very carefully decorated here, with tall green plants in white pots and a small loveseat with a side table. On top of it is a magazine, with Katniss and Peeta on the front cover.

You wander forward, looking at the directory to find a paper taped to the front of it, the words successfully evacuated printed across the middle in bold writing. You lift it up to see beneath it, curious to how many floors there are. There’s five of them, you’ll probably stay on the third floor to keep from going too high.

As you start up the steps, you keep a sharp ear and eye out for noises or cameras that might capture your appearance. Just because this part of the Capitol has been evacuated, doesn’t mean that they’ve surrendered control entirely. For all you know, there’s Peacekeeper bases around here, ready for the signal to round a rebel up.

When you reach the third floor, you choose the unit that’s located next to the fire escape that you step out of. The door is locked, of course. You hold out your knife, staring down at it. It’s dulled considerably because you’ve been using it for everything while you’ve been traveling. This will be its last job.

You stuff the blade into the keyhole, wiggling it from side to side. For a second, nothing happens, and then there’s a click. You twist the knob, pushing in, opening the door to reveal the expensive living room. You pull the knife out but leave the door open as you inspect the apartment from top to bottom. When you’re convinced there’s no one, you pick up a dining room chair, going back to the front door. You shut it, lock it as best as you can, and then shove the chair as stiffly as you can beneath the knob.

The first thing you do is raid the bedroom, tearing it apart for clothes that you’ll be able to wear without looking ridiculous. Once you have an outfit that makes sense, you shower, watching as all the built-up dirt and dried blood mixes in the water, creating a grainy substance at the bottom of the white shower.

You feel so much better when you step out, drying yourself off. You change, letting the bathroom air out while you go through every cabinet you can, searching for the medical supplies. They’re hidden when you do find them, but they’re top-grade, the type of medicine that you’d send to tributes in the arena to get them healed within days.

You read over the ointment’s directions, and then you slather it over the open wound in your arm. Your teeth are grit hard enough that you think you’ll break them, toes curling at the pain it’s causing. It burns as it works its magic, you toss the tube on the counter, leaving to go back to the living room.

The sun has fully set now, there’s barely any light coming through the windows. Still, you shut the curtains, blocking out the rest of it. You head to the kitchen next, digging through the pantry to find countless cans and boxed goods. You pull out a few familiar soups because you’re starving. After you’ve finally located a spoon, you go to sit on the living room floor in the dark to eat.

You could heat it up, you’re sure that it’d be better that way, but you don’t want to risk more than you have to. You open the can, dipping your spoon inside, and raising the creamy substance to your lips. As expected, it’s not very good when it’s cold. Yet, it could be worse.

You manage to get down half the can before an alarm cuts through the stillness, making you jump in surprise. Your hand wraps around the knife before the television set lights up on its own, and you’re immediately greeted with the face of Beetee Latier.

“This is a repeated broadcast from District Thirteen, a reminder of the faces we’ve lost to get here.” He says. “We Remember, do you?”

It cuts to Haymitch Abernathy, sitting in a dark room, wearing a grey jumpsuit. The background is an empty area. To an extent, he looks better than the last time you saw him.

A feminine voice speaks from off-camera. “What do you remember about Cashmere and Gloss Ritchson, the brother and sister duo from District One?”

“They were a bright pair of mentors, even when they were teenagers.” Haymitch says, staring at the camera. “There was nothing the two of them couldn’t do, and it showed time and time again when they performed miracles outside of the arena. Cashmere had an undeniable dedication that was admired by everyone, and Gloss was very hardworking to ensure his tributes got the best possible. It’s a great loss we’ve suffered losing them to the Quarter Quell.”

You squint, eyebrows twitching. Is this a memorial piece? If so, it’s a little funny for someone like Haymitch to speak about Cashmere and Gloss, considering that they were never invited into the alliance. Or thought about twice, beyond the idea of them possibly killing Katniss or Peeta.

The screen fades to black slowly, before Haymitch comes up again. “Brutus, he won a couple years after I did. He was friendly to me after my Games, and had briefly tried to help me after the tragic loss of my family.” He pauses to sigh. “Even though we could never see eye to eye, that did not keep him from drinking with me on occasion.”

Beetee shows up in the next clip, in the same spot that Haymitch was on a stool, only he’s in a wheelchair. Something must’ve happened between the arena and now. You wonder if it has anything to do with the lightning tree.

“Wiress was very intuitive, incredibly intelligent.” He adjusts his glasses, shaking his head. “It may appear that we have lost no one at all, but with her absence, Panem will not function the same. She worked alongside me to create some of the more important Capitol devices, a factor they neglected to think about. We will miss her dearly.”

You finish the can of soup, and you’re pulling on the tab to open the next when his face shows up on screen. Finnick sits on the stool, eyes puffy and a little bloodshot, bags underneath from the lack of sleep. There’s a slouch in his posture, a small length of rope in his fingers that he fiddles with.

“Tell us about (Y/n) (L/n).” The female voice says.

Finnick swallows, voice quiet. “What isn’t there to say?” He asks, looking into the camera. “She was my best friend, and more than that, my girlfriend. She was the kindest person I’ve ever known, always so considerate and patient with everyone around her. How President Snow can take such a gentle life and then brag about it is a mystery.”

Your blood runs cold, suspicions confirmed. So, they have been broadcasting you as dead. They saw an opportunity and took it, wanting to make themselves look more ruthless. When in reality, they haven’t so much as touched you since you escaped.

“I love her and I miss her.” He says, tired eyes filling with tears. An overwhelming urge to reach through the screen to hold him seizes you. “If I had known my time with her would be cut short, I would’ve done everything to protect her.” He breathes shakily. “This is why we must stop the Hunger Games. For loved ones like (Y/n).”

Finnick is gone, once again replaced by Haymitch, who begins to speak about Mags, your mentor. For the first few seconds you stare at the screen, face slowly twisting before it hits you.

Mags is dead.

“What?” You murmur, sitting up.

“Mags was the first mentor to approach me after I won my Games.” Haymitch says. “She was a sweet woman that could see the pain and understood what I was going through. I was the first victor of District Twelve, she was the first face of the Hunger Games. And for as long as I let her, she helped me mentor.”

Of course she did. That’s who Mags is—was. If she saw someone that needed help, she was there. She even approached Johanna after her Games to give her some tips because Johanna was slowly sinking.

“Mags did not deserve to die the way she did.” Haymitch says.

It moves on to the next victor, the woman from Five who was killed in the arena. You try to listen, but it’s difficult. You can feel yourself slowly getting sucked out of your body and into the open air. You’re here, but are you really?

The entirety of Panem thinks you’re dead, and as serious as the situation is—it’s a little funny. If this is the rerun, that means that they’ve been Finnick speak on your death dozens of times. There is not one person left in this country that believes otherwise.

But you’re not dead. You’re here, in one of the many luxurious Capitol apartments, eating someone else’s vegetable soup that they’ve saved. If you had gone to District Two like the girl from Nine told you to, this wouldn’t be the rumor.

For the remaining eight districts, the statements are brought from the victors that now reside in District Thirteen or some faces of previous Capitol citizens. Which you can tell by the way their skin is tinted or the tattoos that line their bodies. There’s even a part where a former Avox sits on the stool, signing while his brother translates.

It wraps up with Finnick talking about Rue and the future that was stolen from her. She was just an innocent child, and the Capitol thought it was right to force her to fight for her life with other older kids, who were much bigger and more skilled. When she should’ve been at home, with her family.

Beetee shows up at the end, hands in his lap. “We Remember.”

The screen dies, but not completely. It glows faintly, illuminating the small area that you’re sitting in. You need to get out of here—out of the Capitol, at least. You should be with Finnick. He needs to know that you’re alive, because the idea of you being dead is killing him. After the two of you fought to be together, you’ve been ripped from his fingertips.

You don’t sleep tonight.

You want to, with the couch being the comfiest thing you’ve laid down on in months. You know that the apartment is secured, you triple-checked everything. No one is coming to get you. This isn’t what keeps you up.

So, you relax in front of the television in the living room, eyelids feeling heavy the moment your head touches the pillow. When they shut, that’s when the problem rises. You’re not tired anymore, even after counting sheep for what feels like hours, your mind is still running.

By the time the sun is peeking through the curtains, you’re ready to leave the apartment with a packed bag. It has the essentials inside like food and water, and the ointment you’ll be using to heal your arm. You’ve grown too attached to the knife you had in the arena, so you find a way to sharpen it, giving you a reason to keep it.

The streets look the same way as they did yesterday, nothing has magically shifted. You head for the train tracks that’ll bring you to a tunnel that runs to District Two. It’s what the girl in Nine called the Nut. It serves several purposes, including training the new Peacekeepers underground, but it’s also the easiest path to get in and out of the Capitol.

While you should’ve gone to District Two straight away, you’re glad you didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have known the whole story. You can’t imagine how overwhelming it could’ve been if you came across the rebels and they bombarded you about how you’re alive.

You travel blindly through the streets, dodging and setting off traps, watching the chaos that follows. A few of them are made up of weapons that shoot out once triggered. You manage to react quickly most of the time, but you still come out with a few nicks from blades that are impossibly sharp.

Other traps are made up of insects that are abnormally colored and move in ways that they shouldn’t be capable of. When you see this, you decide that you’re right to say that they’re designed by the Capitol’s Gamemakers, because it makes no logical sense the other way around.

When it appears to be around lunch, you stop to eat in a shop with broken windows, stomach growling. There’s a nice aqua blue couch a few feet away from the door, void of the glass shards that litter the tile floor. You open a can of soup, and dig out a small pack of crackers to have with it.

It’s still disgustingly cold, and yet it could be worse. After what you ate in the woods these last few weeks, anything is a good meal compared to that. Even the crackers seem like a treat.

You set the empty can on the floor when you finish, sitting back against the cushions, staring through the open window. A pair of black birds circle over a nearby alley for a minute. They’re the first sign of life that you’ve seen in this city since you got here, besides the mutts that come out of the traps.

They settle on the roof of a building, side by side, much like the birds at home when they land on power lines. You’re about to look away, when you watch as they both simultaneously tilt their heads, attention set on whatever is in the alley. Your face twists, confused.

As soon as they open their beaks, beginning to screech, you realize that they’re not birds, either. They look to be like jabberjays—a Capitol weapon. You get to your feet, swinging the bag strap over your shoulder. You don’t know how they can see you, because they are definitely not facing your direction. You shouldn’t be in their view.

You take a single step, before you freeze where you are, watching as a group of people dart out from the alleyway. They’re dressed in black, wearing combat gear and carrying weapons. You’re terrified, wondering how the Peacekeepers have found you, until you realize that they are not Peacekeepers. Peacekeepers wear white.

There’s almost a dozen of them, and their leader is pointing his finger down the street to your right, an area you haven’t explored yet. He barks out an order, one of the girls in the middle turns with a gun, shooting at the jabberjay. They flap their wings, rising from where they’re perched, flying around.

Rebels.

Your lips part, wanting to speak, but the words die in your throat. You’re not dressed like they are, you look like you belong in the Capitol because of the clothes you’re wearing. You’re even sitting in an abandoned boutique as if you’re not completely surrounded by danger.

It doesn’t matter, they’re gone before you can work up the courage to speak. You watch as one of the boys toward the end grabs another boy with blonde hair, pulling him along. Neither of them stick out in your mind, and then the first boy turns, looking over his shoulder, right at you.

It’s Finnick. It’s Finnick, and he’s pulling along Peeta.

You move now, trying to follow him. You’re sure he’s seen you, but as you step out of the shop and in front of it, looking at where you’d been standing, you see that it’s too dark to make out much of anything. The awning above the street blocks any sunlight that might be able to get inside.

“Hey,” You call, walking after them. They’re moving too fast, trying to escape the birds, running around the corner. You begin to jog, not wanting to lose them in the maze of Capitol streets.

Even as a team, they move remarkably fast. You’re barely catching Finnick’s bronze hair in glimpses each time they take a turn. They’re losing the birds, though. And even worse, you.

“Hey!” You shout, sprinting down the street. “Wait!”

It grows more narrow, crowded with decorations that citizens couldn’t pull inside before leaving. There’s many places to hide, too many buildings to duck into. You can’t see Finnick anymore, much less hear the stomping of their boots against the asphalt.

When you’re breathing so hard that you’re sure you’re going to throw up your lunch, you slow down, coming to a stop in the middle of the walkway. Your face contorts, hands on your hand.

“Fuck.” You breathe, walking at a slow pace. “Finnick!”

You peer into the local stores, checking behind every bush. You know that eight people would never be able to hide around this area without splitting up. They could’ve gone anywhere.

“Finnick, please!” You stop in the middle of a crossroads, taking your time to look down what each road offers. “It’s me, it’s (Y/n)! I’m alive!” You struggle to breathe normally, whispering, “Please, I’m alive.”

When there’s no appearance, you sigh. The one chance you had, and now he’s gone.

“(Y/n)?” A faraway voice asks.

You turn instantly to face the person, finding Finnick standing at the end of a walkway. He’s not alone. In fact, he’s with the leader of the group, who’s clutching a large gun in his hands, wary. This doesn’t bother you.

“Finnick.” You say, starting toward him. “Oh my god.”

There’s a deep crease between his eyebrows, watching you come closer. “You’re—how are you here?”

You walk straight into his arms, letting him crush you against his body. You grip on tightly to his shoulder, face pressed into the space above the vest. He presses a kiss into your hair once, then twice, and again and again. When he’s had enough, he pulls away, grabbing your face to kiss your lips.

It’s gentle, loving, but quickly turns greedy as he refuses to let you go. And when he does, it’s not because he needs to breathe, it’s because his shoulders are shaking. His face is wet, eyes filled with tears. You bring his forehead to yours, thumbs wiping away the tears.

“It’s okay, Finnick.” You murmur.

“The Capitol said you were dead. They showed your body. How are you—?”

“I escaped out of the arena.” You tell him, stroking his hair. “I’ve been in the trees between the districts the whole time. I got here yesterday.”

He backs away, lips pressed together, tears still sliding down his cheeks. “Of course you did.

You pout, shaking your head. “I cut the tracker out.” You show him your arm, which is looking better this afternoon, but still far from healed. “I’m not sure who’s body you saw, but it wasn’t mine.” You reach for his hands. “I am so, so sorry.”

He pulls you back into his body, hugging you. “You’re alive, (Y/n). That’s all that matters to me.” He frowns. “I’m not leaving you again.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

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caesarflickermans · 4 months ago

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Why Plutarch Heavensbee is the likely protagonist of Sunrise on the Reaping

Plutarch embodies SOTR’s propaganda theme

“With ‘Sunrise on the Reaping,’ I was inspired by David Hume’s idea of implicit submission and, in his words, ‘the easiness with which the many are governed by the few,’” Collins said in a statement. “The story also lent itself to a deeper dive into the use of propaganda and the power of those who control the narrative. The question ‘Real or not real?’ seems more pressing to me every day.” (AP)

Plutarch’s character embodies the themes of propaganda and controlling the narrative. He understands that it is “moves and counter-moves” (CF, 32:20). In his foil against Snow, he laid out a plan to destroy Katniss’ image through overexposure on TV, thus employing propaganda to control the image of a growing rebellion he secretly wanted to foster (CF, 32:35).

This understanding is in line with David Hume’s first principles of government, where he states that “the governors have nothing to support them but opinion” (Hume, Of the First Principles of Government). Plutarch understands this, as his plan of rebellion is based on influencing the opinion through the images shown to the TV audience.

His expertise continues in Mockingjay, where he lays out his plan in the shape of “propos--which is short for 'propaganda spots'--featuring [Katniss], and broadcast them to the entire population of Panem” (MJ, 3). Katniss recognises him as the mastermind behind the production, and sees a resemblance between these actions and his role as the Head Gamemaker (MJ, 8). At the end of the war, Plutarch’s expertise grants him the role as secretary of communications, in line with his previously gathered experience (MJ, 27).

When Hume speaks of “the implicit submission, with which men resign their own sentiments and passions to those of their rulers” (Hume, Of the First Principle of Government), it is Plutarch Heavensbee who mirrors this understanding and informs Katniss about it in the shape of Panem et Circenses; “Panem et Circenses translates into 'Bread and Circuses.' The writer was saying that in return for full bellies and entertainment, his people had given up their political responsibilities and therefore their power.” (MJ, 16). The fact that this is Plutarch who views the Games as such appears pivotal enough that Collins mentions him in reference to the quote:

SC: But there’s a dark side to bread, too. When Plutarch Heavensbee references it, he’s talking about Panem et Circenses, Bread and Circuses, where food and entertainment lull people into relinquishing their political power. Bread can contribute to life or death in the Hunger Games. (Scholastic, 2018)

Suzanne Collins’ previous interest in Plutarch

But when I step back and look at the series, she's not the character that I would identify most with. [...] This is such an unflattering thing to say about yourself, but it would be Plutarch Heavensbee. [...] Because he's the head gamemaker. Plutarch is creating the story, and he's creating the arena, and he's manipulating the characters--a writer isn't far from a gamemaker. I'm not for creating arenas or anything, but if you look at it from a creative perspective, we're really doing the same job. (times, 2013)

Suzanne Collins’ interest in Plutarch has culminated in the 10th Anniversary interview, where she makes frequent references to him, such as speaking about the reason why he was motivated to rebel. This indicates that Suzanne Collins has had deeper interest in Plutarch as a character and has an extensive backstory for him:

SC: Plutarch is the namesake of the biographer Plutarch, and he’s one of the few characters who has a sense of the arc of history. He’s never lived in a world without the Hunger Games; it was well established by the time he was born and then he rose through the ranks to become Head Gamemaker. At some point, he’s gone from accepting that the Games are necessary to deciding they’re unnecessary, and he sets about ending them. Plutarch has a personal agenda as well. He’s seen so many of his peers killed off, like Seneca Crane, that he wonders how long it will be before the mad king decides he’s a threat not an asset. It’s no way to live. And as a gamemaker among gamemakers, he likes the challenge of the revolution. But even after they succeed he questions how long the resulting peace will last. He has a fairly low opinion of human beings, but ultimately doesn’t rule out that they might be able to change. (Scholastic, 2018)

Not only is Plutarch the character linked to propaganda, but he is further juxtaposed with Snow, the first prequel protagonist. In this interview abstract, she places these two characters at odds, potentially indicating that Plutarch can be seen as an antithesis to Snow:

DL: One of the things that both Snow and Katniss realize is the power of media and imagery on the population. Snow may appear heartless to some, but he is very attuned to the “hearts and minds” of his citizens . . . and he is also attuned to the danger of losing them to Katniss. What role do you see propaganda playing in the war they’re waging? SC: Propaganda decides the outcome of the war. This is why Plutarch implements the airtime assault; he understands that whoever controls the airwaves controls the power. Like Snow, he’s been waiting for Katniss, because he needs a Spartacus to lead his campaign. (Scholastic, 2018)

Fitting as a future protagonist

YA protagonists are aged between 14-18 (Writer’s Digest), which Katniss (16-17) and Coriolanus (18) fall into. Thus, SOTR’s protagonist is unlikely to be someone older like Tigris, Snow, or Caesar. If the casting choice was representative of Plutarch’s age, he is within the fitting age range during the 50th Hunger Games.

A Gamemaker would offer a new perspective unlike the previous tribute and mentor point of views. Potentially, Plutarch could serve in the role of a junior or intern Gamemaker in between the Capitol’s High School (Academy) and College.

Suzanne Collins has hinted at several potential plot points that might be addressed in the prequel, such as:

At some point, [Plutarch’s] gone from accepting that the Games are necessary to deciding they’re unnecessary, and he sets about ending them. (Scholastic, 2018)

What was that point? What motivated him to wish to end the Games?

Like Snow, [Plutarch’s] been waiting for Katniss, because he needs a Spartacus to lead his campaign. There have been possible candidates, like Finnick, but no one else has captured the imagination of the country like she has. (Scholastic, 2018)

When and why did Plutarch realise he needed a “Spartacus to lead his campaign”? When did this campaign begin? Who else was a possible candidate?

“[...] They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!” [...] “Almost, but not quite,” says Haymitch from behind us. (CF, 14)

Was Haymitch’s “almost” rebellion perhaps the original inspiration for Plutarch to organise a rebellion through the arena? How did they try to spin his act? Was he the first possible “Spartacus”? Was there perhaps more to it that only the Gamemakers and Haymitch know about? Was footage manipulated or adjusted? Was the live show already manipulated or only later footage? How do the Gamemakers control the narrative? Will there be any insight helping us understand why the Gamemakers acted the way they did for the 74th Hunger Games?

Plutarch Heavensbee has been, for several years, part of an undercover group aiming to overthrow the Capitol. [...] We are currently on a very roundabout journey to District 13. (CF, 27)

Who was part of this group? How did he get in contact with District 13?

"Tigris," she says. "We need help." [...] "Plutarch said you could be trusted," adds Cressida. Great, she's one of Plutarch's people. / Tigris. Deep in my brain, the name rings a bell. She was a fixture--a younger, less disturbing version of herself--in the earliest Hunger Games I can remember. A stylist, I think. I don't remember for which district. (MJ, 23)

How did Tigris and Snow fall out? How did Tigris become one of ‘Plutarch’s people’? Did they perhaps meet when Tigris was still a stylist and what was her life like then? Which Districts did Tigris work for?

"No. My mother and younger brother. My girl. They were all dead two weeks after I was crowned victor. Because of that stunt I pulled with the force field," he answers. "Snow had no one to use against me." (MJ, 12) / The crew hurries inside to edit the material, and Plutarch leads Finnick off for a chat, probably to see if he has any more stories. (MJ, 12)

Why and how was the decision made to kill Haymitch’s family? Did any people within the Capitol die due to Haymitch’s force field trick? Some that Plutarch might have known—possibly giving a personal motivation for rebelling against Snow?

Others begin to die off and it becomes clear that almost everything in this pretty place—the luscious fruit dangling from the bushes, the water in the crystalline streams, even the scent of the flowers when inhaled too directly—is deadly poisonous. (CF, 14) / A clock. I can almost see the hands ticking around the twelve-sectioned face of the arena. Each hour begins a new horror, a new Gamemaker weapon, and ends the previous. (CF, 23) / He made sure the wire was among the weapons. Beetee was in charge of blowing a hole in the force field. (CF, 27)

Were the arenas intended to be parallels to one another, seeming paradises until the true threats were revealed? And was the usage of the force field as the final act to destroy the arena an intentional parallel to Haymitch’s rebellious act?

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staircases and increasingly narrow halls (CF, 5) / And finally, how our mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, betrayed us both for a cause he pretended to have no interest in? (MJ, 2)

Will we learn why Haymitch knew the Justice Building in 11 so well? Could a young Plutarch perhaps have accompanied him on the victory tour who knew the place? Was this tour perhaps the beginning of their plotting together against the Capitol—with Plutarch trying to convince Haymitch to trust him?

#thg #the hunger games #thg analysis #sotr #sunrise on the reaping #plutarch heavensbee #haymitch abernathy

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dreamingofnoreality · 2 years ago

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I think the part I hate the most in Mockingjay Part 1 is how after the District 13 bombing, when theyre trying to film the propo, Katniss is like, "He's gonna kill Peeta if I keep being the Mockingjay!" because in the book, she breaks down for literally, and I mean LITERALLY, the exact opposite reason.

“Try the line again,” says Cressida. “ ‘Thirteen’s alive and well and so am I.’ ”

I take a deep breath, trying to force air down into my diaphragm. “Thirteen’s alive and so —” No, that’s wrong.

I swear I can still smell those roses.

“Katniss, just this one line and you’re done today. I promise,” says Cressida. “ ‘Thirteen’s alive and well and so am I.’ ”

I swing my arms to loosen myself up. Place my fists on my hips. Then drop them to my sides. Saliva’s filling my mouth at a ridiculous rate and I feel vomit at the back of my throat. I swallow hard and open my lips so I can get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods and — that’s when I start crying.

It’s impossible to be the Mockingjay. Impossible to complete even this one sentence. Because now I know that everything I say will be directly taken out on Peeta. Result in his torture. But not his death, no, nothing so merciful as that. Snow will ensure that his life is much worse than death.

Up until then, Katniss had been terrified that Snow was going to kill Peeta. It's during the bombing that she finally realizes that Snow would lose his leverage against her if he took Peeta out of the picture.

It’s on the third night, during our game, that I answer the question eating away at me. Crazy Cat becomes a metaphor for my situation. I am Buttercup. Peeta, the thing I want so badly to secure, is the light. As long as Buttercup feels he has the chance of catching the elusive light under his paws, he’s bristling with aggression. (That’s how I’ve been since I left the arena, with Peeta alive.) When the light goes out completely, Buttercup’s temporarily distraught and confused, but he recovers and moves on to other things. (That’s what would happen if Peeta died.) But the one thing that sends Buttercup into a tailspin is when I leave the light on but put it hopelessly out of his reach, high on the wall, beyond even his jumping skills. He paces below the wall, wails, and can’t be comforted or distracted. He’s useless until I shut the light off. (That’s what Snow is trying to do to me now, only I don’t know what form his game takes.)

Maybe this realization on my part is all Snow needs. Thinking that Peeta was in his possession and being tortured for rebel information was bad. But thinking that he’s being tortured specifically to incapacitate me is unendurable. And it’s under the weight of this revelation that I truly begin to break.

Peeta's death would mean she had nothing left to lose. But the idea that her actions as the Mockingjay would result in Peeta being tortured? THAT is what makes her fall apart, which is what the Rebels were afraid of happening and is what motivated them to finally arrange the rescue mission. They were very much aware that Peeta was intentionally being kept alive and tortured to punish Katniss and, aside from Finnick, they were all actively trying to keep Katniss from figuring that out.

“Cut,” I hear Cressida say quietly.

"What’s wrong with her?” Plutarch says under his breath.

“She’s figured out how Snow’s using Peeta,” says Finnick.

There’s something like a collective sigh of regret from the semicircle of people spread out before me. Because I know this now. Because there will never be a way for me to not know this again. Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a Mockingjay entails, I am broken.

The movie just completely ruined it by having Katniss think Snow was warning her that he was going to kill Peeta. The whole point was that she realized Snow was NEVER going to kill Peeta. Death would have been a mercy, and Snow was not merciful. He was going to keep Peeta alive to torture him in response for everything Katniss did for the rebellion then stick him on TV to show her.

#the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #I mean they even kept the scene where she talks to Finnick about it and then completely undercut it a few minutes later like what???

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emilianadarling · 2 years ago

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'We Beat Them Before, We Will Beat Them Again!’

Some Rebel Alliance propo pictures to go with the Imperial one!!! 😃

The last chapters of ‘only as strong as the warrior next to you’ feature quite a few rebel themes and visual elements, so it felt like a good time to share!

“Star Wars Propaganda: A History of Persuasive Art in the Galaxy” is the source of many of these. It’s an incredible and highly enjoyable reference book, and it that comes with 10 free posters. :3 The rest of the images are taken from the excellent and inspiring works of Russell Walks Illustration, who I’m given to understand also has a tumblr. @russellwalks 👀🙏

#star wars #star wars propaganda #rebel alliance #propaganda #art #rebellion #alliance to restore the republic #these are roughly in chronological order #and are so so so damn fucking cool

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thefloatingwriter · 2 months ago

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Oh the way fandom just erases them from the Quell alliance is wiiiiild and so transparently just because they aren't young and traditionally attractive. Because they're KEY to everything. First of all, in the books D3 is one of the first districts to start rebelling even before the Quell which also implies Beetee and Wiress were already "problem" victors. Then you've got them being literally Katniss's deal breaker, she's like "I will not go along with this shit unless I get them as allies". Then, oh yeah, Wiress is the only one to figure out the arena gimmick and Beetee is Central to the plan to break out of the arena. Everyone is toast without them. And finally, Katniss straight up likes Wiress, she spends an exorbitant amount of time in the arena on looking out for Wiress and just being with her, when Wiress is killed Katniss takes precious time to close her eyes and tell her goodbye.

this!! exactly this anon you get it. they are so important to the overall plot of catching fire and the entire series as a whole. like look me dead in the eye and tell me that if beetee wasn’t there the rebellion would have still succeeded. like you can’t. it doesn’t even make logical sense to say that. in mockingjay it is mentioned multiple times that the only reason the broadcasting of the propos even work is because of beetee. he redesigned the entire broadcasting system himself. the rebellion literally would have failed without him.

and wiress. she’s literally there to show how the hunger games affects even the strongest people, a former victor. to show the extent of the trauma and imprint the hunger games leaves on everyone. and yet she’s completely pushed aside and it’s so infuriating. katniss everdeen would not stand for this shit.

#dayne answers #one time i was reading a h*yffie fic (first mistake i have no idea why i was doing that to myself)#but it was a catching fire au and beetee died in it and i literally checked if the author had tagged rebellion failed #because there’s no way. like the rebellion is not surviving after that there’s no way 😭#i genuinely believe some people in this fandom don’t even read the same books like what are some of you people talking about #every time i join a fandom i hope for a fandom that didn’t so obviously fail english class and basically every time i’m disappointed #but yes you are so right anon speak your truth #thg #the hunger games #dayne’s beetee tag #dayne’s wiress thoughts (TM)#beetee latier #wiress #wiress thg #wiress lisiecki

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deepdonutkid · 1 year ago

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Peeta’s and Katniss’ roles reversed in Mockingjay

I just got to ramble, because I have this idea for a canon divergent Peeta POV fic, where he is the one who gets rescued from the Rebels and Katniss is taking to the Captiol. I saw some posts about this, and it’s also meantioned in the books, when Haymitch says something like “He wouldn’t treat you like this, if you were the one being hijacked” (I can’t quote the actual line, because I just have a translation of THG at hand, but if anyone can add this part, I would be very grateful).

And this got me thinking about, how the hijacking took the one thing about Peeta, that was very exceptional in this world, which was his kindness. Everybody said, they couldn’t believe, how cruel Peeta was to Katniss. That was very much unlike him, like they just ripped out a huge part of his identity. yes, but also... His benefit to the cause of the rebels. He was pretty much useless in district 13 and he was a risk to be with 451. Truth to be told, he held them back a lot, which was okay, because the squad was willing to do the extra work, but well, it played into the Capitols hand, right? He would get rid of Katniss for them.

Now we turn this thought around. How could they hijack Katniss, without killing her, to diminish the Rebel’s cause? They wouldn’t turn her more violent. At least, that’s not what I was thinking. Because they would make her just a more useful weapon for Coin if she was mentally unstable and violent. Also at this point they wanted to discredit the star-crossed lovers, who basically pulled the trigger on the whole rebellion thing. Side thought: Snow saw something in the third quarter quell, that was real and not just for the cameras. He recognized how deeply they loved each other and he wanted to destroy their bond, because any form of alliance is weakening his powers, this bond in particular.

So they want to tear the star-crossed lovers apart, because Victors are important figures in this propaganda war and people look up to them, and also make Katniss useless for the cause. Not only in a way, she couldn’t be used for propos anymore, but actually keep her away from the whole fight.

For that to happen they need to take one thing from her: her fire. Her braveness to help those in need. Her survivial instinct. And Katniss was always willing to fight for something, somebody else. Rarely ever for herself. She was thinking about winning for Prim’s sake not her own, among other stuff. And she was able to keep going, because she always had somebody who would ground her.

Well, I’m trying to say. They would hijack her in a way, she would not be brave and selfless, but terrified and scared without any connection to those around her. They would make her see Peeta as a monster, a mutt, but not something she can destroy and overcome, but something that’s almighty. Like Peeta is not the one person she can trust, but the one person she can never defeat.

Just imagine this from Peeta’s POV. Him seeing her in person after months, and instead of the hug or something he expected, she starts crying and hiding, begging him to spare her. Because in her eyes she is seeing something so cruel and horrifiying, she doesn’t even put up a fight.

And she would be to afraid to pick up any kind of weapon. She would be useless for propos and she coulnd’t heal for a long time, because the only person who could help her with her mental state is the same one who can’t go near her.

#thg meta #everlark #katniss x peeta #hijacked Katniss #rebel! Peeta

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villainfixations · 11 months ago

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things I'm really glad they added to the hunger games series movie adaptations:

Lucy Gray's footprints just suddenly stopping at the end when Snow is hunting her, just like Lucy Gray's footprints disappeared in her ballad:

They followed from the snowy bank,

Those footmarks one by one.

Into the middle of the plank,

And further there were none!

Effie feeling 'imprisoned' in 13 and how she's so miffed by the whole living quarters. Yeah Effie's amazing btw

Katniss's dream in 13 about Peeta. Just like in the train in Catching Fire, except it's in the Everdeen living quarters. It reminds me of how in the book Katniss says that when things are particularly bad for her, sometimes her brain will give her a good dream.

Katniss just sucking at acting for the propos. Its so funny.

All the districts, throughout the original trilogy, that rebel - 11 after Rue died, 7 with bombing the peacekeepers, and 5 with the dam singing the hanging tree.

There are definitely more but these are the ones I can remember rn. I might add to this later idk

#Thg #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #Tbosas #lucy gray baird #president snow #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #effie trinket

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hexsdexs · 11 months ago

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More from my thg reread, mockingjay edition

The dialogue is UNHINGED. It's so unhinged that it's funny.

I think it shouldve been in the movies just how uncomfortable katniss was the entire time she was in 13. It makes much more sense.

When she finds her prep team and they removed their physical additions. Katniss describes them as an inflated balloon. When she sees a drain in the cell.

Gale is the worst. And not because of the love triangle manipulation. Because: Absolutely no regard for any civilians. Thinks katniss cares too much about her prep team. Effectively implying they deserve being imprisoned and katniss has to spell it out for him that it is over a PIECE OF BREAD?? Thinks katniss is causing trouble by asking for the victors to be pardoned. Wants to kill DISTRICT CIVILIANS in the nut in 2. Wants to kill capitol civilians. He's like actually a war criminal.

Katniss doesn't trust any of them except the other victors.

It's a significant moment that katniss and finnick see peeta's propo together in the hospital, where peeta tells her not to trust the rebels. Finnick then tells her to pretend they never saw it, and then they keep it from them for days. They don't even tell them. Katniss is the one to confront gale about it.

Katniss takes annie to 12 to pick from dresses, then upon describing how weird annie is on the plane, decides she loves her based soley on the fact that finnick loves her and katniss trusts him. It's slightly funny how she spend the entirety of cf thinking of ways to kill finnick and now he's her best friend.

Haymitch is katniss' dad. That scene when he tells her he will surgically implant her with an earpiece if she takes it off again?? 😭😭

It's significant that haymitch repeatedly calls katniss and peeta "the girl", "the boy". Effectively reminding everyone that these are CHILDREN

Katniss making johanna the pines because she doesn't have any possessions. 😭😭😭😭

Most importantly. Katniss and peeta, through and through, are what they wished they never would become. From the first chapter of thg to the last one in mockingjay, they are both pieces in a game. Once in the capitol's game in the original book, again in catching fire when they are the only ones kept in the dark about the rebels. And each in 13's games in mockingjay. Peeta is snow's piece against katniss, katniss is not useful to the revolution except as a pretty girl. She's a showgirl. Not part of the fight. She doesn't even want to be the mockingjay at all.

#the hunger games katniss #the hunger games #katniss x peeta #katniss everdeen #katniss and peeta #thg au #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #finnick odair

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katiemay-025 · 4 months ago

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hey idk if you have ur requests open or not cause i couldn’t find anything that says that they’re not (or im just blind)

but if they are open can you please do a johanna mason x reader to the song stranger by olivia rodrigo specifically the part “your just a stranger i know everything about” like maybe instead of finnick dying it could’ve been reader or smtg like just an idea

no pressure at all if you don’t wanna write it it’s fine dw

I’m open to requests as of yet anon but I’ve got work so might take a while or I could have a random burst of inspiration.

~~~

Stranger

~~~

summary: Johanna arrives in Capitol after the war and finds out some horrible news.

wc: 3.2k

warnings: mdni, angst, use of y/n, character death, grief, not proofread.

~~~~~

Watching from the sidelines was agony. If it were for that stupid Block Test, Johanna would be storming The Capitol with you, with Finnick, with the damn Mockingjay herself. Yet, here she was in the hospital staring at the white tiled walls. She didn’t know if you were okay or not and it drove her up the wall.

Communication between the group could not be achieved without interference from the Capitol. The ‘fallen tribute’ propo was played and it nearly caused Johanna to faint. The District 7 girl marched down to Beetee and demanded to know the truth. He had shown her the hacked camera system in the Capitol where everyone in the team had gone underground except for the guy that Peeta pushed into the tar.

She replayed the seconds of you walking by the camera near the middle of the group. You had held your weapon in your right hand and your left hand fiddled with the blue hospital bracelet that Johanna had given you.

You were still alive but heading deeper into the heart of Panem. It wasn’t going to be easy for you and the team. Johanna believed in you, after all, you were nicknamed the Career Grim Reaper as you ended the 6 year career streak between Enobaria and Augustus Braun. In your Hunger Games, you won with a scythe, chopping people’s bodies and head clean in half. With the added bonus of your taller than average height of 5’9” for a woman you could reach enemies from further. As for close range combat, beetee made sure you were able to retract the staff and have your scythe double as a sickle.

A few days later was when Snow lost all his supporters by bombing his own citizens. Johanna could care less, about them. They all deserved to burn in her eyes. He was captured by the rebels and Coin wanted all the victors to watch his executions. Alas, that event would come later as members of squad 451 were injured.

She was flown to the Capitol in a helicarrier with Beetee, Haymitch and Annie. Johanna nearly threw Annie out of it for annoying her. Annie’s nervous habit of biting her nails earned glares from the district 7 victor. Coin and her sources never told them who was injured.

When the helicarrier landed, the victors were escorted through the mansion. It was like the opposite of the rescue mission where she and Annie were in the hospital beds and Finnick and you were the ones running to them.

Annie started running first, desperate to see if her husband was okay. It made Johanna run behind her to try and find you. Annie barged through the door finding Finnick with a cast on his left arm and torso. “Finnick!”

“Annie!” He held her with the same intensity he did in District 13, the same passion on their wedding day. The kissed without a care in the world as Johanna searched the room.

Her heart rate picked up the longer she spent without you. “Where’s Y/n?”

Finnick turned over and gave her a solemn look with tear stains on his cheek. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“What are you talking about. Where is Y/n?”

Annie had pulled away slightly curious as to his answer of where you were. In Finnick’s mind, he was reliving the moment after the Quell, when you woke up on the helicarrier and asked where Johanna was. It broke his heart because in both cases, he would have to deliver a painful blow. “She’s- she’s dead. Y/n’s dead.”

Annie gasped throwing her hand over her mouth. The room ran cold and Johanna scoffed. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s sick.”

“You know this is something I would never joke about.” Finnick replies and Annie begins to cry.

Johanna shakes her head. “No I don’t believe you. Just bring me to her. I want to see her.”

“There is no body Johanna. She was blown up.”

“She can’t have just left nothing!” Johanna yelled, tears threatening to fall down her face. “What about her weapon, a scorched piece of clothes. The hospital bracelet I gave her as a token. Something.”

Finnick’s face twisted in pain remembering your last moments. “Nothing.” He said with his shaky voice. Unlike Johanna, he let the tears start rolling down his cheek. Annie reaches over and wipes his tears.

Johanna glared at the lovers tender moments. Oh how she wanted that more than anything right now. After all you and her have been through, that much was owed to her. She pushes her feelings down with a deep breath. “Tell me- tell me what happened. Please.”

Finnick closed his eyes and winced. Johanna saw him thumb the small robe he had with him. “We escaped underground to rest for a bit. We woke to lizard mutts tracking Katniss’ scent but it didn’t matter, they ripped through anything that moved.

“We lost most of the district 13 soldiers before we decided to get out of the sewers. They had us at a choke point, we were surrounded and we had to go up an old rusty ladder.

“We were one of the last ones to go up. When I climbed. The mutts pulled me down by my shoulder and parts of the ladder with me. I heard the crack in my arm and I thought I was dead. Y/n saved my life, she killed the mutts around me with her scythe, threw me over her shoulder and ran. The camera crew shot at the mutts behind us but they kept coming.

“Y/n got us to another ladder and pushed me up. Pollux and Gale were there to pull me out of the sewers.”Finnick paused as he began to cry again. “I thought- I thought she was right behind me but all I heard was her screaming. She was nowhere in sight. The mutts had gotten to her and they were ripping her apart. Katniss blew them up and put Y/n out of her misery.”

Finnick barely finished retelling your last moments before Johanna stormed out of the infirmary. Her feet brought her to a room of glass vases and ceramic podiums. They must’ve had some significance to Snow but she didn’t care. Her breath quickened. She swiped at the glass and watched them shatter on the ground. She shoved the podiums over and let them crack.

Johanna rampaged through the room throwing and kicking anything that could break. The glass, the clay. She hated it all. You were dead only several hours before the war ended. It wasn’t fair, of all people, you didn’t deserve to die. You were good. Johanna fell to her knees, not caring about the broken glass cutting up her legs. She clumped a bunch in her hands and watched as the red liquid cascaded down to the floor. The red contrasting against the white marble floor as pure as snow.

Snow. Everything went back to him. Her pain, her losses: Her family, you. You. Your suffering. Your agony. Your death. It was all his fault. Johanna grunted in anger before turning from the room. She didn’t care if Katniss wanted to be the one to kill snow, Johanna had every right to kill him.

Before she could though, one of the training doctors saw her bloody hand and Johanna was taken to the infirmary. They were gentle with her and she hated it. Memories of defying the District 13 doctors swirled in her mind. She had refused to allow treatment in fear of it being a facade. She was afraid to be hurt again and you stayed by her side glaring at the Doctors who would cause Johanna to even wince.

The cut on her hand didn’t hurt despite the amount of blood coming through. The pain came from her chest. How it beat against her rib cage like it was trapped and trying to squeeze through the ridges and jump out of her body. Johanna even felt her heart beat in her throat and it made her nauseous. Her breath quickened as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

She stepped away quickly from the doctors, not caring if they hadn’t finished patching her up. Something overcame her, despite her hate for the Hunger Games, she went to the library where all the games were stored in the archive. Johanna cradled your taped game in her bloody hand.

There was a small lounge area with a television and the District 7 victor sat firmly in it watching your game. You were 16 at the time and besides the baby fat you almost looked the same now. The same muscular features highlighted your tall stature. She spent 3 hours watching you and your games and when it was done, she rewinded all the way to the beginning to watch it again.

Another reason for your nickname being the Career Grim Reaper was that you killed them all. You managed to join the careers and at night during your watch, The other district 9 tribute emerged from the bushes and together you slit their throats. The other two barely had time to react to the cannons before you sliced their heads off.

Your partner tried to get the upper hand on you when you shook hands but you quickly held him in a choke hold yelling at him to stop. He kept thrashing and managed to stab you in the arm. With great reluctance in your face and a quick apology, you snapped his neck.

The 68th Hunger Games was replayed a few times before someone came looking for Johanna. Being the stubborn and cranky woman she was, she stayed in the single seat, ignoring her stomach’s call for food just to see you. She could feel your spirit and your strength as if you were sitting next to her. It felt comforting.

The house maid brought her food at Finnick’s request and Johanna proceeded to ‘rot’ in front of the televisions. She only got up to use the restroom for the next week. Then a district 13 soldier came to ask her to a meeting. She didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding you tape again so she pocketed it.

She was greeted by some of the other victors, Finnick, Annie, Beetee, Peeta, Haymitch and surprisingly Enobaria. Katniss walked in and Johanna glared daggers at the mockingjay. That brainless girl was the reason you’re dead, but the death of her sister enough pain for her. She’d know the meaning of loss for the rest of her life.

President Coin gathered the remaining victors and with a short protest, Johanna found that Enobaria, along with herself, Peeta, and Annie, they were granted immunity. Shes still trying to to kill Enobaria, she was probably lying comfortably in her bed while everyone else fought for their freedom. She proposed a vote for a symbolic hunger games.

This was unfair. You were a victor you should’ve been there at the vote. It was your right. It was upsetting how you were hours away from a stop at this table. Regardless, in her anger and revenge she votes yes in hopes that Snow’s granddaughter gets reaped and he has to watch her die.

After the vote, came the execution. Everyone far and wide came to witness the death of a tyrannical dictator. Imagine being hated so much that everyone comes to witness your execution. Katniss broke her promise again! Instead of killing Snow, she killed Coin. Across the way, she could hear Snow’s maniacal laughter. Johanna clenched her fists and she felt the glass piece from last week cut her hand. The girl quickly pulled it out and flung at Snow’s head.

She watched a brilliant spray of blood and his laughter cease. People shoved her aside as they stormed to get their hands on President Snow. If he wasn’t dead from the glass in his face, he’d be dead from the crowd. Either way, he wouldn’t get the last laugh.

One of the guards, yanked her from the crowd and pulled her to safety. Yeah, protect the victor. Where was this level of security for you? They sent the victors back to their districts and before she got on hers, Finnick and Annie approached her.

“We know how much you love the forest, so when you need a break with watching that tape, eat something okay. We’re going to figure things out on our end so we can go to District 7 with you.”

“I’m not a child Finnick, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t fight us on this. If I come over and smell the stench of rotting flesh I will bring you back from hell to kill you myself.” Finnick stepped closer to threaten her.

“Really? Threatening a victor?”

“Yes, how low of me. I’m not threatening a victor, I’m threatening my best friend.”

Johanna snapped her head at him as he used those words. If looks could kill, Finnick would’ve been in hell. “Don’t call me that! We both know Y/n was your best friend and I swear if you erase her…”

“She saved my life. I’m not erasing her. It’s just that she’s de- I can have two best friends.”

“No you can’t.”

“Okay fine. I’m threatening my best friend’s lover. I owe her that much, to take care of you.”

On the train ride home, she watched your game again. Feeling prouder and prouder of what you had done. Watching you at that young age, you were like a stranger to her. A stranger she knew everything about.

She knew your hobby which was beer crafting. She knew your family consisting of just your grandfather who passed away at the old age of 83 a few months after the 73rd Hunger Games. She knew how the rest of them died, your mom dying in childbirth and your father dying a couple months after from heartbreak. She knew about your spunk, any thought you said, you said without muttering. She knew about your habit, like how you’d pick at the skin around your finger nails or the way your eye twitches when someone chews with their mouth open. She knew of your fears, like your fear of the dark and being alone with no one to love you. She knew your favorite food, her own Marionberry pie with a bit of ice cream on the top. She knew the way you’d pick up the telephone by saying hello twice in quick succession. She even knew your fighting style and that you preferred close quarter combat.

After finding out about your passing she had yet to cry. Annie had cried, Finnick cried, Katniss almost cried. Hell even Enobaria cried. Her voice had broke on the phone a few months after returning home and she cried to Johanna. She just pulled the phone away from her ear and brought it back when she thought Enobaria was done. Alas, she was still in tears. Johanna managed a ‘there there’ and called it a day.

It wasn’t because she didn’t miss you she missed you everyday. She just couldn’t cry even if she wanted to. It’s as if she’s wasted all her tears before ever truly knowing you. She watched your games less and less throughout the years, and the Odair’s even named their daughter after you.

There were days where she couldn’t get up because of the heartache and then days like today she hadn’t thought of you so far. Finnick and Annie had their kids over for her birthday tomorrow and Johanna played with them as they splashed through the splash pad. Annie slowly got Johanna to be comfortable with the water.

She was turning 24 tomorrow and it dawned on Johanna that you never got to be 24, dying a few months short. You would never get the chance to be 24, 25, 26 and so on. She didn’t know what overcame her, before she knew it her tears fell out of her eyes torrentially.

Wiping at her tears, Johanna grew crazy when they wouldn’t stop. The time for crying was long over. It’s been over for 3 years. She was okay now, Johanna was sure of it. The weight of grief had lifted off her chest already, but now she felt it all. You were forever going to be 23 and she was going to be older than you now. The last time she saw you in person was when you told her you’d ‘see her soon’. She never got to see you again and anytime she conjured up an image of you, it was the 16 year old stranger. It was unfair.

She bit her lip to stop herself but the moment your namesake saw the glistening skin under her eye, her small hands shook the victor’s shoulder asking, “Aunty Jo? Are you okay?”

“Y/n I’m okay.” She looked into the child’s eye and burst into tears. Johanna pulls Finnick and Annie’s second child in for a hug and bawls repeating your name. The parents snapped into action when they heard the crying only to find Johanna in tears.

It was Annie that arrived first. Her daughter stood there confused and wouldn’t move when Annie tried to pull her away. Your namesake wrapped her arms around Johanna to let her cry. Finnick arrived shortly after seeing Annie pat her on the back. He mouthed ‘what happened’ to his wife but she only shrugged.

The couple were at a loss for words, but luckily, as parents, they knew what to do. They tried to pry Johanna from their daughter but she held on. It wasn’t until later at dinner when Johanna spoke up.

“I don’t want to celebrate my birthday.”

Finnick and Annie darted their eyes between each other and their honorary oldest child. “Why not?” Johanna mumbled her answer. “What was that?”

“I said I don’t want to be older than Y/n! I don’t want to be 24 when she’s stuck at 23! She had so much ahead of her. I’m forgetting what she looks like, what she sounds like. I miss her laugh. At this point she might as well be a stranger. I had no right to cry.”

“Everyone has a right to cry Johanna, we do it. Tears don’t make you weak and you can designate time to cry but it doesn’t mean grieving is over. It comes and goes. We tell our kids about Y/n, they remember her through stories. They practically know everything about her at least from what we knew of her. We keep her alive that way.” Annie tells as Johanna pouts.

“It’s unfair.” Johanna says.

“Auntie Jo.” Your namesake called. “Mommy and daddy say we live for the people who cannot.” Johanna smiles hearing your words echo throughout the Odair family.

“Yeah even if we never met old Y/n, it’s like we still know her!” Their son joined in.

That was who you are now, a stranger the people around you know everything about and although it has its sad moments you live on through memory.

#the hunger games #Johanna Mason #Finnick Odair #annie cresta #Johanna Mason one shot #johanna mason angst #requested #johanna mason x fem!reader

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vasilissadragomir · 1 year ago

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obviously catching fire is objectively the best hunger games movie but the non-book additional scenes from the mockingjay part 1 movie are some of the best scenes in the whole franchise.

adding effie in place of the prep team? watching the rebels extract the victors from the capitol as katniss “distracts” snow?? when the district 7 workers yell, “if we burn, you burn with us” right before blowing up the peacekeepers??? TRANSITIONING FROM KATNISS’ LAKE SCENE PROPO WHEN THE WORKERS MARCH TO BLOW UP THE DAM IN DISTRICT 5 WHILE THEY SING THE HANGING TREE?????

like yeah i love being in katniss’ head in the books but the district rebellions are just a devastatingly brilliant use of the advantages of the film medium

#thg #the hunger games #cf #catching fire #mj #mockingjay #the hunger games movies #katniss everdeen #mockingjay part 1

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ilguna · 1 year ago

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Can I get 6 and 23 from list 2 with Finnick please?

☼ sunburst (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, gun use, blood mention, ehh gore.

wc; 2.5k

prompt; 6. "I know, it hurts. I'm so sorry, but we have to get this out." AND 23. "You need to keep your eyes open. Just a little longer."

When you were recruited to be a part of the mission to storm the Capitol, you were under the impression that you’d actually be in some danger. You spent weeks training in District Thirteen, thinking that you were going to be running for your life every waking moment. It was supposed to be more like being inside of an arena, than a walk on the bad side of District Four.

Both of which you can handle, for the record.

What you can’t handle is the boredom that comes with being a member of the Star Squad. While you were told you’d be at the front lines with the rest of the rebels, the reality is that you’re stuck days behind them. President Coin is too afraid of putting their precious Mockingjay into danger.

It’s an interesting concept, considering that Katniss has expressed no issue in the past surrounding the idea of putting her life on the line. The first time she did this was when she wanted to get sent to District Eight, an active battlezone, to see the citizens there. The next time was District Two, where a gun was held to her head, and she still proceeded to give a speech, and got shot for it.

You suppose that’s the exact problem, though. She can be a magnet for trouble, whether she intends to be or not. In that case, you’re not sure why they didn’t tell you that you’d be stuck here with a mixed group, beforehand. You might’ve changed your mind and found a different way to help the rebellion.

And it’s not like you haven’t tried to have patience, because you have. It’s been severely run thin by the propo team—a camera crew from the Capitol, their only job being to film videos to slice together to show the districts. Their incessant need to get a shot of absolutely everything that’s going on has got you beyond irritated.

They’re so demanding with it, and all it is is a bunch of bullshit. They want you to walk down the street the right way, looking fierce and in the middle of battle. When in reality, there’s no one for a several mile radius, and all the threats are being given away by the Holo. A device that was made to tell you where the traps, the pods, are.

If you could, you’d tell them that you’re done participating, but you really have no choice. You’ve been seen in so many of their other videos, that it’ll make the districts and the Capitol question why you’re not in the rest. Either they’ll think that you died, or that you’ve decided the rebellion isn’t worth fighting for.

Which isn’t true in the slightest. You just think that it’s morally wrong to be back here, pretending like you’re fighting, when the faceless rebels at the front lines are the ones almost getting killed everyday. You want to be up there, with them.

The rebels ahead don’t set off all the pods, though. They leave the mild ones behind, marking them as such, assuming that the group behind them will take it out when they pass. That group happens to be you.

Sometimes, Boggs, the squad leader, will see a pod on the Holo, so he’ll ask for volunteers to set it off, naturally. You don’t even know what the point of raising your hand is, anymore. He won’t call on you, or Finnick, or Katniss. He keeps his attention on the District Thirteen trained soldiers to do the important tasks.

Despite the fact that you had, once again, spent weeks training to be able to do something like that.

What will happen is that Katniss will pretend to set off the pod with an arrow at a distance, to keep her from getting hurt by accident. While a soldier off to the side will trigger it. This makes the rest of you all duck for cover, afraid of whatever the pod has to offer. And when it’s all said and done, and you’re ready to move on, the next step is to reenact your reactions to defending yourself from whatever threat came out of the pod.

It’s been four days of this, and it’s driving you crazy. You’ll spend a few hours pretending to fight, and then return to camp for the rest of the night, safely out of harm's way. It’s taking everything in you not to ask Boggs to leave to go back to the Nut, where the rest of the rebel soldiers are. Maybe there, you can get reassigned.

The problem would be convincing Finnick to go with you, because he doesn’t mind being in the Star Squad. He thinks it’s great, because that means you’re not in any immediate danger. After what they did to Peeta, the last thing he wants is for the Capitol to potentially get their hands on you, or for you to die.

Neither of which you plan on letting happen.

The only way you’ll be able to get him to leave is if you do it without bringing it up to him first. Cut out the whole conversation on how he’d prefer if you went with Coin’s plan, instead of making your own. He has a way with words, and he knows this. That’s why your resolve can crumble in the matter of fifteen minutes, all because he’s the one reasoning with you.

That’s what you’ll do tonight then; you’ll go talk to Boggs.

The Holo begins to beep loudly, warning your squad that you’re coming close to a pod. Boggs slows his pace, opening it up to take a look. When he comes to a full stop, so do you.

A sigh escapes you, Finnick glances over, watching as you turn around to take a few steps away. This is the fourth pod that you’ve come across today, meaning that Boggs will probably call it a day after this. Even though you’ve covered more distance today than you have the past three.

“The Holo says it’s going to be a swarm of muttation gnats.” Boggs says, “Who wants to hit it?”

You turn to face the squad, watching as almost every hand flies up, with the exception of you, Finnick and Katniss. Even Gale, Katniss’s best friend from Twelve, has his hand raised. You think he’s been tasked once, which is the hope he’s probably holding on to.

Regardless, Boggs motions at one of the Leeg twins. “Leeg, I want you. The rest of you, go find someone to stand in the meantime.”

You cross your arms over your chest, shaking your head. “Predictable.”

“Come on, (Y/n).” Finnick grabs the underside of your arm, pulling you with him to the other side of the street.

The pod is disguised as an electrical box on the side of an orange shop. If it weren’t for the Holo, you wouldn’t have suspected a thing of it, but that’s the whole point. The pods are hidden in plain sight, meant for your eyes to glance over them, so that they can kill you later on.

The best the Capitol can do is gnats?

“Okay, Katniss, we’ll focus on pulling the arrow back, and holding it.” Cressida begins, she’s the one that has the specific propo visions. If this doesn’t go according to her plan, she’ll rework it and have Katniss do it over again until it’s right.

“Just a regular arrow?” Katniss asks, reaching back to grab one.

“No, we’ll have Leeg set off the pod, and then you’ll use an explosive arrow to kill the gnats.” Cressida says, looking at Boggs. He gives her an approving nod.

“What happens when that shot isn’t good enough and we have to start over?” You mutter, Finnick bumps your shoulder.

“I know you’re unhappy, but can we please not make enemies out of the people that could save our lives?” Finnick asks.

You look at Finnick, “I’m not making promises I won’t keep.”

You watch as Cressida gives Katniss directions on where to stand and how to hold her bow. This gives the cameramen, Castor and Pollux, enough time to find their angles, because realistically, there won’t be an opportunity for reshoots. With one of them on Katniss, and the other on the pod, Cressida gives Boggs the go ahead.

“On the count of three, Leeg.” Boggs tells her. Finnick adjusts his footing, prepared to duck if necessary. You don’t move from where you stand, staring dead at the pod. “One, two, three!”

Leeg shoots at the pod, piercing the metal that encases the gnats, leaving bullet holes. The sound of metal on metal screeches through the quiet street, as the door swings open, releasing what’s inside.

A startled scream comes from you as piercing pains hit you all across your body, throwing you back onto the ground. The back of your head slams against the cement of the sidewalk, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut, as the world begins to spin.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick’s voice wavers.

The punctured points in your body begin to deepen, as the shrapnel from the box begins to burrow in your skin. You grunt, writhing, eyes opening suddenly to see it for yourself.

It’s not shrapnel, they’re metal darts, and they've got claws that are digging into your skin.

“No!” Someone cries.

“We need the medic team!” Jackson barks, her voice is clear. “We’ve got two down, Boggs!”

“Copy.” He says.

From what you can tell, you got a brunt of the hit, a consequence of not taking cover like you were instructed to. There’s over a dozen of these, stuck in your body, going deeper as the seconds tick on.

“Get them out.” Your voice is rough, as you reach to grab one. “Get them out of me!”

“(Y/n), honey—” Finnick seizes your hand, keeping you from doing it. “Stop, leave them.”

“They’re in me!” You cry, “They’re going to kill me.”

“We can’t take them out. We learned this, remember? They’re stinting the blood, we have to wait for—”

“No, she’s right.” Katniss is standing at your feet. “Look at them.”

You don’t want to, not when they all move at once, ripping your skin open further. You can see the brief stream of blood in the air, before it’s gone, covered by the dart. It’s not large enough to block the chunk of skin it’s pulled from your body, though, because the blood begins to pool, quickly.

“Shit.” Finnick says.

There’s a girl crying, when you lift your head to see, you find that it’s the other Leeg sister, on her knees, next to the first one. The one that had shot at the pod, now has a dart sticking out of the side of her head. It’s already found her brain.

She’s dead.

You begin to breathe heavier when you realize that this will be your fate, too, if they don’t start to pull them out. Which must be the same conclusion that Finnick comes to, because he rolls back his sleeves, hands hovering over one of them.

You grab the heel of his shoe, knowing that you’ll need something to hold on to. He gives you a look, and you nod quickly, urging him to do it. The second that his hand is around the dart, it begins to wiggle. To keep it from going further, he yanks.

You scream, throwing your head back, body tense, as the entire world goes white. It clings on, refusing to be pulled off in just one attempt.

“Stop!” You tell them, “Stop!”

“Katniss, I need help.” Finnick says.

She drops her bow without question to get to her knees to help him. You watch through blurred tears as she holds the dart while he pries the claws apart. It’s like a thousand needles jabbing into your skin repeatedly, refusing to leave the area alone.

And then they get it free, and the first tear slides down your cheek.

The metal clinks on the ground from Katniss dropping it.

You can’t help the sob that breaks through your lips. This is just the beginning isn’t it?

“Hold on, honey.” He tells you.

“I don’t—”

He begins to pull at this dart, more aggressive than he was the first time. Unprepared, you cry through gritted teeth, squeezing his shoe. He manages to unhook it faster this time, but that means little to you.

Him and Katniss go back and forth, pulling them out of the areas they think will hurt the least. There’s a few times where their hands slip, which causes an indescribable pain.

The pool of blood beneath you is growing. You can feel the puddle reach your fingers on your free hand, coating your skin in red.

“There’s only two left, (Y/n).” Finnick smooths your hair back. “These will hurt the most.”

“Just wait.” You tell him, grabbing onto the bunched sleeve.

“We can’t stop, or it’ll keep digging in.” He tells you. “Breathe, okay?”

“Finnick.” You warn, bracing yourself when he secures his hand around the metal dart, beginning to pull.

The feeling of your guts being yanked from your body, makes the dark spots at the corners of your vision come around quickly. For a moment, you’re gone, drifting off into the peaceful voice, until Finnick’s lifting your head up with one hand.

“You need to keep your eyes open. Just a little longer.” Finnick tells you

“I can’t.” You sniff. “I want to be done.”

“One more.” He tells you, lowering your head back to the ground.

“No.” Your lips tremble.

He grabs the dart, you squeeze your eyes shut. “Please! Please, please, please! It hurts!”

“I know, it hurts.” Finnick says, he doesn’t sound very happy that he has to do this to you. “I’m so sorry, baby, but we have to get this out.”

This one has decided to hold on, taking twice as long as it normally does. For a second, it almost slips out of their hands, when Finnick’s able to pry the claws open.

A faint sense of relief floods through you, but it’s gone when your body begins to tingle. “Finnick.” You whisper. With a shaky hand, you dip your fingers into one of the many wounds that will end up being scars. The exposed raw flesh against your fingers makes you nauseous.

It subsides slightly when you pull your hand out, and find an orange substance mixed with the blood.

Poison.

“No.” Finnick says, looking at Boggs, presumably. “How far out are the medics?”

“They’ll be here any minute.” He says, coming over to see better.

“They need to have an antidote ready.” Finnick’s voice echoes, bouncing back and forth in your head, as he splits into two people, then four…

Your eyes flutter shut.

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

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