#this was a longggg issue
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barbara gordon in nightwing 85 pt. 3
bonus:
#this was a longggg issue#never complaining about more babs are oracle stuff but also she's in the batgirl suit for most of this#and this was a hassle to put together#grabbing all the panels took forever#anyways#enjoy :)))#more babs stuff tomorrow!#dc comics#barbara gordon#oracle#batgirl#nightwing#dick grayson#dickbabs#robin#tim drake#comic panels#written by: tom taylor#art by: robbi rodriguez#colours by: adriano lucas#nightwing (2016)#issue 85#queue
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making biryani i Need to nail the rice this time
#i always always overcook it#'drain rice and add to the boiling water; cook for 5 min after it comes back to a boil'#ok but while it's coming back to a boil it's also cooking so does that add to the 5 mins hfkshfhd#going on a tangent but cooking for 7 people is Hard and not in the effort sense but in the pots and pans sense#i always have to use the biggest ones we have#but sometimes even that isn't enough#i really think some dishes just cook better in smaller quantities#my main issue is that sometimes it just Steams in there instead of getting a nice sear#too many ingredients in a small space#for example when im making manchurian and im frying the chicken pieces....i literally have to do it in 6 batches#if i dumped all the chicken at once or even 2 batches it's Not going to get crispy#it takes so longggg i hate frying things in batches#but im not going to compromise on flavor and texture for ease
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I should rly start eternal gales posting again I need to make sure the ppl who follow me know how much Tali and Aris make me to insane so that the isat au can have its full effect but alas I am allergic to drawing the human eg cast like 99% of the time and rn the only thing stopping that from being 100% is that I like fucking around with different art styles sometimes
#rat rambles#oc posting#eternal gales#honestly most of the times that Ive drawn them in recent memory has been either because I needed to remake their refs or because I wanted#to change smth abt my human artstyle and needed to use them as my test dummies since making dure Im still calable of drawing them is vital#shout out to them for forcing me to start learning how to draw humans so I could neglect to give them basic features for years until#something or another forced me to give them another facial feature#but nowadays they have successfully earned noses eyebrows ears eyebrows again noses again and also fingernails ig#maybe I should try to redraw some old eg art at some point that might be easier#but yeah aris and tali are the favorite children most of the time I love putting them through the horrors#longggg story short aris's mom was abusive towards both of their dad and that lead to him rebounding onto tali's mom and then tali's mom#died during childbirth and tali has a bunch of health issues which lead to him becoming even more depressed and stressed and that's on top#of his ex stalking him and harrasing him while abusing aris whenever she had custody and while eventually she lost custody she still kept#threatening their dad until he died when the two were lil kids and the two moved with their shared grandparents who took the death of their#son rly poorly and it sparked a bunch of conflict between them leading to them divorcing and aris chose to stay with her grandpa while tali#left with her grandma and the two didnt interact for years until they ended up in the same online friendgroup and had an awkward reunion#the two have a complicated relationship for many reasons but one of the roots of their disconnect is that aris' mom Hated tali and heavily#demonized her and tried very hard to drill it into tiny aris' head that both tali and her dad were people she was supposed to hate#and while aris never hated either of them she did feel the pressure like she was supposed to even after her mother was gone#and she felt even more that way after tali left leading to her feeling very uncomfortable upon her popping up again#tali on the other hand never had this but did have some resentment towards her for not coming with her as she tends to see aris as the last#remnant of the happy family she feels she was supposed to have but lost#and after her grandma died and she was left to go through some horrific shit alone that comfort that the idea of aris brought began to#override any anger she may have felt towards aris and she clung onto aris rly hard after the two reunited even if for the first few years#aris was deliberately distant most of the time#aris ends up being struck Hard by guilt once the two actually meet in person again during the main plot due to a variety of reasons#but the big initial one is that first moment she has where she goes wait. did she always have prostetic legs. uh oh.#tali getting to play that fun game where she lives in enough of a high tech environment to have fairly fancy prosthetic limbs but not w#enough for them to feel like more than a hinderence most of the time#theyre heavy and clunky and it sucks to try to clean them because she has to keep one arm on at all times and this has lead to infections
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14 yr old egg maxime looking at gru who got hit with the transgender beam at age 12: why the fuck would i be jealous of him. im not. btw
#STRONGGGGGGG believer in trans maxime but SPECIFICALLY where he doesnt actually work it out fully until like. after graduation#i feel like maxime wld have gotten very caught up in the social heirarchy of the popular girls. esp w being so close to valentina#but he struggles with like. actually fitting in for a numberrrrr of reasons. being uncracked transmaac being among them#he says to valentina one day like ‘do u ever wonder what it wld be like to be a guy’ and shes like ‘hmm not really.’#and thats the end of the conversation for another year at least#what with maximes obsession w popularity and social standing ESPPPP during high school i think he wld very much try to smother it#for a longggg time.#i struggle to explian this sometimes but w gay transmascs who end up dating girls but. as a girl. but it happend to meeee. it happens i pro#but this is my maxime idea.#like he latches onto val cus shes genuinely kinda nice to him and shes like. the epitome of what he feels he SHOULD be#gru he actually likes but gru also reflects what he is trying to hard to push away#and so theres a lot of complex feelings that end up coming out as jealous vitriol#esp w the influence of the popular girls.#btw this is a personal thing but i dont like to rlly think abt transphobia etc in fiction. exceptttt for like personal arcs#like in my mind in most fiction and mostly like. kids media esp. its just not a thing like ppl dont care#but i do like using it for individuals#um so like. socially not an issue rlly but moreso w specific characters and dynamics#anyways anywaysssss. i fuck heavilyyyyyy w trans maxime it is so canon to me.#TRANSFEM VECTOR TOOOOOO. SHE IS SPECIAL TO ME#this is soft launching the shit ive been drawing just now but im soooo sleepy so not finfishing it rn#im so slowwww at drawing man BUT im getting better i think#also want to maybe draw smth from my dream last night but is maybe too weird. unless u guys fw transgender dream fuckery#btw completelyyyyy unrelated except its maxime but ohhhdiscobug sbae me. save me#so fucking epicccc i love it. they need to fuck NOW#sorry who said that.#no but rlly i heart their backstoriessss sm i feel they r kind of similar in that they wld be able to relate#that stuck in childhood kinda thing#bratttttttt. dude. i cant do this shit anymore#the concept is so simple but sooo painful#like ack he grew up being this one thing that got him attention and praise and love. and then he gets thrown away
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MV: YUCK! ⭐ part one
pairing(s): max verstappen x photographer!reader
summary: your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear.
fc: daisy edgar jones
a/n: hiiii this is my first attempt at an f1 fic so i hope y’all like it!! might turn this into a series idk? feel free to send me a req or a suggestion or just a message🫶🏻 my inbox is always open (fr now i turned on asks) (also daniel is at redbull in this 🙏🏻 prayer circle w me guys 🥲🕯️) (partially inspired by yuck by charli xcx)
⭐️ next part
(instagram)
@ynusername just posted…
tagged @maxverstappen1 @redbullracing
liked by @maxverstappen1, @danielricciardo and others
ynusername maxie in miami 🏎️💦 as usual thank you redbull for having me out!!! looking forward to the next one where i will once again be standing 100m away from max until he forgets i’m there and acts natural for the camera.
user1 uhhh wait why he kinda… 🥵
⤷ user1 and i don’t even fuck with cars like that
⤷ user2 no right like who even is this?
⤷ user3 @user1 @user2 His name is Max Verstappen. He’s a driver for RedBull in Formula 1!
user4 MAXIE!?? UR KIDDING!!
⤷ user5 we’re losing the idgaf war
user6 THE SECOND PIC. GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST LITERALLY AS WE SPEAK.
redbullracing 🥵💦 (❤️ by @ynusername)
⤷ user7 she liked. are yn and max together?
⤷ user8 @user7 highkey i think shes just employed by them
⤷ user9 @user7 she’s been one of redbulls photographers since they signed max, they’re not together they’re just friends
user10 RAHHHHHH
user11 contender for white boy of the month i dare say😋
danielricciardo Fuck me
⤷ maxverstappen1 Fuck off
⤷ danielricciardo 😬
danielricciardo Yn why don’t you take slutty photos of me?!
⤷ ynusername cos ur always talking ur head off babes
⤷ ynusername max broods. easier to take pics that way.
⤷ ynusername and they’re not SLUTTY!
⤷ maxverstappen1 Exactly, Daniel.
user12 okay so why is her feed 70 percent max? isn’t she a redbull photographer? not a max verstappen photographer?
⤷ user13 its like a known issue. she clearly prefers one of them over the other🫤
(yn’s messages)
(twitter)
(instagram)
🔒 @ynpersonal just posted…
liked by @ysistersuser, @maxverstappen1 and others
ynpersonal anyway 😐 me lately
user1 gorgeous gal! don’t listen to the weirdos
⤷ ynpersonal ty babe love u lots! xx
ysistersuser MWAH LOVE U BIG SISSY
⤷ ynpersonal LOVE U TOO LITTLE SISSY
⤷ ysistersuser 🙂🫵🏻 boyliker
⤷ ynpersonal 😐 so annoyed at u
⤷ ynpersonal still love u tho ig
user2 slay! 🫶🏻
⤷ ynpersonal slay!!! 🫶🏻
danielricciardo Okay so hypothetically…
⤷ ynpersonal hypothetically ur a dickhead daniel
⤷ danielricciardo Hypothetically?
⤷ maxverstappen1 Why are u fighting
⤷ ynpersonal no reason, dan is an asshole
⤷ danielricciardo 👀
user3 When are you visiting home again?? Miss u🤭🫶🏻
⤷ ynpersonal soon i promise!! ill text u!
maxverstappen1 Nice pants
⤷ ynpersonal thank u maxie 🙈 (❤️ by @danielricciardo, @maxverstappen1 & @ysistersuser)
📸 ahhhh okay well sound off if you want another part for this. though i think that is probably coming regardless. but yea this is my first f1 fic and my first smau in a longggg time so pls let me know what u think! i’d love love to hear❤️
✨ next part
#max verstappen#f1#formula 1#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen smau#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 fanfic#max verstappen x photographer!reader#FICS
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Okay okay. Luke x a daughter of Dionysus. I’m just obsessed with the idea of Luke, the king of godly daddy issues, and a girl who is close to her godly parent and physically cannot understand where he’s coming from because she loves her dad! He’s always been there because he’s in charge of camp. Just the dichotomy of these complete opposites being in love.
ℐ 𝓀𝓃ℴ𝓌
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
A/n- I love this! Sorry it took me a few days to finish this ):
warnings- some angst, nothing else really.
“Do I look okay?” He asked, adjusting his suit that one of his siblings lended him. He looked in the mirror, and you smiled at him, looking up and coming up behind him, wrapping an arm around him. He was beyond nervous.
“You look perfect. Don’t worry about it too much. He’ll be too drunk by the end of the night anyways.” You mumbled, he laughed quietly, turning around and looking at you up and down in your dress.
“You look gorgeous.” He said to you, giving you a kiss, his hands cupping your cheeks.
Your dad had set up a nice dinner at a nice restaurant outside of the camp. He had just learnt of you both dating, and he was mad at first, but it stopped after a while.
He had booked this dinner mostly for himself, of course. But you and Luke were invited, and Dionysus secretly hoped to get to know more about the boy.
“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Your dad rapped on your cabin door, tone laced with annoyance. You giggled and rolled your eyes.
“You ready?” You asked him, holding your bag. He nodded, linking his arm with yours. He straightened his back as you opened the door.
“Hi, daddy.” You said.
“Finally. What took you guys so long?” He was dressed in a tropical styled shirt, some shorts, his hair was disheveled. His usual. You both suddenly felt over dressed.
“I was getting ready. You know-“
“Yes, yes I know.” He waved it off, and he looked at Luke.
“Luke.” He nodded to him.
“Sir.”
“Don’t call me that. Gods that makes me feel old.” He rolled his eyes, and Luke just nodded. You were led to a car, a car that you didn’t even know your dad had.
You both sat in the back, it was awkwardly silent.
“How long have you guys been dating, again?” He asked suddenly. You sighed.
“Almost a year.” You said, slightly upset he didn’t remember.
He just nodded, and it was silent the rest of the drive. Once the car had stopped, Luke was out of the car and opening up your door for you. Your dad mentally noted it.
Luke grabbed your hand, holding it as you smiled at him. He gave you a small smile back.
The server led you to the tables, a table ready. Luke sat next to you, and so did your dad. You were stuck in the middle of them.
Your dad, obviously ordered the best wine his money could buy for himself. You got your favorite drink, and Luke, he just ordered a Dr. pepper.
Your dad took a sip as soon as it came, processing how it tasted.
“Garbage.” He mumbled to himself, settling into the chair he sat in.
You and Luke glanced at each other. “What?” Dionysus asked, noticing your glances.
“Nothing, dad.” You took a sip of your own drink, he just ignored it for now.
“So, uh, what do you like about my daughter?” He asked, his cup in hand, leaning back in his chair. He was testing Luke.
Okay, hitting him with the hard questions first.
“Everything.” He said simply, and it was the truth.
He narrowed his eyes, you swallowed, “daddy, don’t.” You sighed.
“What? I’m just looking out for you.”
You loved your dad, of course you did. But he was very, very overprotective. He’s kicked guys out of camp because they tried to hit on you when you didn’t like it, he’s threatened others.
This was going to be a longggg dinner.
❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎
He took off his shoes, entering the cabin again. Quickly, he shoved off his suit and tie, leaving him shirtless.
“I’m gonna change, okay?” You told him quietly, he nodded and sat at the foot of your bed. When you entered the bathroom, he sighed heavily, burying his face into his hands.
He felt terrible, he was jealous the whole night. He was jealous of you. You and your dads perfect relationship, he wanted that.
But you were an only child, and he was a Hermes kid. The child of the God with the most kids.
You were so close with him, it hurt Luke to see. But he still enjoyed the night, how could he not? He loved seeing you in the dress, and he loved seeing you happy. That was all he wanted in the end. If you were happy, he was happier.
You silently came out the bathroom, he didn’t notice you coming out until you sat next to him and laid your head on his shoulder. He looked up, clearing his throat.
“Sorry.” He said, his voice raspy.
“You don’t have to be sorry. I know.” You laid down, and he looked at you, you motioned for him to lay down next to you.
You wrapped your arms around him, giving him a kiss. You stared into each others eyes.
“Its not your fault my dad sucks. I shouldn’t be upset over it.” He said quietly.
“But it’s okay to be. I love you, Luke. You never have to hide your feelings from me. You’re perfect, and if your dad can’t see that, then I think he’s a blind man.” You had a hand in his curls. A small smile was on his face as you spoke.
“I love you.” He said, tears threatening to fall at your speech. He gave you a kiss, his soft lips against yours.
“I know.”
#luke castellan x you#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#charlie bushnell x reader#pjo#pjo disney+#pjo tv show#pjo fandom#pjo series#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson series
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❝ WE’D BE A BIG CONVERSATION ❞
MASTERLIST!
pairing . . . carlos sainz x leclerc!reader
◦∘。゚. request . . . “Carlos x Leclerc!reader and how the media would react?🤭 ❤️”
◦∘。゚. summary . . . even if the world can’t make up its mind about you, you’ll still be endgame.
◦∘。゚. note . . . HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TAY TAY!!! i had to make something at least related to her… although most of my fics are based on her songs so i owe her a lot for all the variety she has on her catalogue 💙 on another note, now that i’m back i gotta keep the fics coming so i hope to put one per week (don’t hold me to that). this is also soooo longggg im sorry😭
liked by lorenzotl, carlossainz55 and 207,843 others
yourusername living my spanish villa life
view all 1,609 comments
carlosfan1 carlos in the likes!!!!!
ynfan1 she’s the love of my life
charles_leclerc Trop belle ❤️
liked by yourusername and 26,139 others
arthur_leclerc Why are you in spain?
arthur_leclerc Come back to Monaco
⤷ yourusername no
⤷ arthur_leclerc I’m telling maman
⤷ yourusername go right ahead, i’ll tell her all about those plates that suddenly disappeared
⤷ arthur_leclerc Truce…?
⤷ yourusername yayyy
ynfan2 crying at arthur being clingy😭
user1 girl it’s the middle of august aren’t you sweating your skin off?
⤷ yourusername beauty is pain ❤️
⤷ ynfan3 LMFAO
liked by landonorris, reyesvdec and 1,283,059 others
carlossainz55 Summer 💛
view all 19,245 comments
carlosfan21 trying not to freak tf out rn…
anasainzvdec Que veranillo 🙌
liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 71,024 others
carlosfan22 WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK
ynfan21 why did y/n like carlos sister’s comment🤨
⤷ carlosfan23 she did what?!?!
⤷ ynfan21 she unliked it a while after… but i screenshotted it cause it was so weird
⤷ ynfan22 this + him liking y/n’s latest post is giving soft-launch
carlosfan24 expected silly season, got love season
carlosfan25 patiently waiting for the f1 detectives to uncover who that is 😁
ynfan23 THAT IS SO Y/N
ynfan24 i’d like to issue out an apology for how annoying i’ll be if that is in fact y/n
⤷ carlosfan26 me too
⤷ pierregasly Me three
⤷ ynfan24 WHAT??? PIERRE???
⤷ francisca.cgomes pierregasly that is not your burner…
⤷ pierregasly Shiiiiit
⤷ ynfan25 there’s a lot to unpack here😭
yourusername updates their instagram stories!
francisca.cgomes responded to you story!
francisca.cgomes you’re in italy rn 🤨
yourusername i knowwww
francisca.cgomes so why aren’t you enjoying
yourusername cause charles and arthur and lorenzo are hovering over my shoulder like im gonna blow up the ferrari motorhome which mean i can’t see my mannnn😫
francisca.cgomes pierre can take care of charles, and then i’ll ask charlotte if she can distract lorenzo… maybe you can talk to carla so she’ll keep arthur busy?
yourusername I LOVE YOU! YOU’RE A LIFESAVER!
francisca.cgomes you can thank me later!!! go see carlos while you can
yourusername right okay bye bye
francisca.cgomes 😘
liked by lailahasanovic, olliebearman and 297,150 others
yourusername italy you were amazing!!!!!
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ynfan31 HELLO???????
ynfan32 did not expect this when i opened insta
carlosfan31 oh.
arthur_leclerc Answer my calls
arthur_leclerc Don’t ignore us, Y/N
charles_leclerc ???
lorenzotl Interesting
user31 where’s the jacket from?
⤷ yourusername bershka 🩵
⤷ ynfan33 BYE NOT HER IGNORING HER BROTHERS
carlosfan32 okay but what does lorenzo know why is he so chill 🤨
ynfan34 it’s giving ferrari royalty
ynfan35 the way her eyes were glowing while watching carlos on the podium… they’re in love IN LOVE
carlosfan33 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAMMM
yourusername updated their instagram stories!
liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 1,783,902others
carlossainz55 Singapore you’ll forever be in my memory
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yourusername mi amorrrr
yourusername winner of singapore and my heart
⤷ carlossainz55 Mi corazón es todo tuyo también ❤️
yourusername 🫠🫠🫠
carlosfan41 they’re so endgame coded
⤷ ynfan41 so reputation coded in general
carlosfan42 y/n is so me thirsting over carlos
carlosfan43 god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others
ynfan42 why does it feel like charles and arthur are so detached from y/n lately???
⤷ carlosfan44 OMG YES I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAY THIS
⤷ carlosfan45 i think since monza we’ve had no content with them… we went from silly stories to radio silence
scuderiaferrari ❤️🍾
liked by carlossainz55 and 68,035 others
ynfan43 these are my parents now
ynfan44 this is everything to me!!!!!!!
carlosfan46 singapore will forever be in my memory too 🥹
translations:
— mi amorrrr : my loveeee — Mi corazón es todo tuyo también : My heart is all yours too
-ˋˏ *.· taglist . . . @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @toomuchdelusion @goldenalbon @ravisinghs-wife @nouvellevqgue @hobiismyhopeu @celestialpato @lecsainz @kkeels @darleneslane @avengersheart
#*ੈ✩༄ my works !#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#dekota johnson#carlos sainz junior#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x leclerc!reader#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz one shot#carlos sainz social media au#carlos sainz smau#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 social media au#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 social media au
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Our Song and Dance⁴
Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: LONGGGG, descriptions of torture, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, violence, exploitation of minors, mentions of forced prostitution, very complicated relationships, complex mental health issues, death, grief, and some unhealthy coping mechanisms Words: 18.2K
Masterlist | Part 5
a/n: since it's that time of year, i decided to give u guys a lil present. merry christmas and enjoy!!!
You had never felt so cold.
Growing up in a working home, you sometimes went through winter just hoping that your sheets would be enough to keep you alive, unable to afford a heater. In your first Games, you nearly froze to death, your matches being the only thing that saved you. Then once you had won and made it to the Capitol, you went through those cold nights with Finnick, sometimes hoping that you really would freeze to death, even if you never told him that.
Yet none of those times could compare to how cold you felt now.
Cold as you were brought out of the Capitol. Cold on the hovercraft. Cold when they sedated you. Cold as you were wrapped in blankets. Cold as Finnick went to touch you. And now, as the doctors examined you like you were an artifact, you were still just as cold.
But you were an artifact, weren’t you? You were the Princess.
So it didn’t really matter how cold you were at all.
You had been transported from the open medical area to your own room. It was almost like you blinked and, just like that, you were in a different room. Like magic.
Even though magic did not exist. Not in Panem. Not in this world.
Someone named Boggs had come to see you, explaining that you were in district 13, a district that you thought didn’t exist for your entire life. This is the revolution, he said. He was meant to bring you up to speed, ease your confusion, but you weren’t sure that was possible at the moment.
Throughout his explanation, you didn’t say a word, just staring up at him. This may have been seen as rude, but you weren’t doing it on purpose. You really didn’t know what to say.
He eventually left, not getting anywhere with you. From what you could tell, he had a lot more to deal with than just one girl. For a supposedly dead district, there was a lot going on in 13, but that wasn’t where your mind was.
Your body was in 13, but your mind was in the Capitol.
“Please, don’t-”
You closed your eyes, trying to rid yourself of these memories, but that only made it worse, images appearing underneath your eyelids. Your eyes quickly snapped open, darting around the room, your chest rapidly falling and rising.
You were in a bed. There was a desk, some chairs, a glass of water on the night stand next to you. The floor was white, tiled, not grey concrete. There were lights. You were in 13, where the lights were on, not in the Capitol, surrounded by darkness.
You’re alive, Y/N, you told yourself. But that didn’t seem to make anything better.
When did it ever?
You ran your hands up and down your arms, feeling new scars that hadn’t been there before, scars that could maybe heal one day, but you knew there were still open wounds you had that couldn’t be treated, open wounds that may never scar at all.
You didn’t think the wounds you had right now would ever close.
Your heart was racing, beating so loudly that you could hear it, so you imagined it wasn’t yours at all, that it was Finnick’s heart that you heard. Though you supposed that your heart did belong to him.
Even though you didn’t want to see him.
Nevertheless, imagining him sitting with you and pretending to listen to his heartbeat was what calmed you down. It always would. In a way, that was the only thing about you that remained sure, the only thing you had left from the life you lived.
Because that’s what it was: a life lived. Y/N Y/L/N lived her life. For a time, she was happy. She fell in love. And then she died. Now… now, you didn’t know who you were.
What you did know was that you weren’t the same Y/N that Finnick knew, the same Y/N who’d fall asleep in his arms. Now, you weren’t sure you could fall asleep at all, not for long, never for long.
Johanna and Peeta’s faces flashed through your mind. Their screams still echoed in your head. They were different now, too. Johanna wasn’t so fearless anymore, and the golden boy wasn’t so golden. His bright gold had been captured by darkness, and you weren’t sure if any of you would ever see it again.
At that thought, you finally got up, ignoring the ache in your bones. You couldn’t just sit there. You couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t eat. You couldn’t think anymore- you wouldn’t. You had to see them.
You left your room, a nurse coming up to you right away. “Ma’am, please, you need to rest-”
“I’m fine.” Your voice was raspy and scratched at your throat, so you cleared it. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you knew it couldn’t have been great with the way the nurse was looking at you. “Could you please take me to my friend Johanna?”
Hesitance was painted all over her face, as well as fear. You didn’t know why; you weren’t in any position to fight. “I’m sorry, I- I can’t-”
You cut her off. “I just want to see my friend.” Annoyance laced your voice, but if one listened closely, they’d also hear the desperation. You needed to see her, you needed to see someone familiar, someone that wasn’t there just because you were their responsibility, someone that wasn’t the boy you loved.
Her mouth opened and closed for several seconds before she responded, “I- she’s with a counsellor right now-”
You sharply inhaled, blinking and seeing Johanna, hearing her cry. When you opened your eyes again, you only saw the nurse staring at you anxiously, expectantly. You ran a hand through your hair. You needed to see someone. “Peeta then,” you said. “Take me to Peeta.”
Her fright seemed to increase. She looked at you like you weren’t in your right mind, which was right, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. There was something else in her expression, like there was something you didn’t know, something she didn’t want to tell you, but she nodded, anyway, agreeing.
This nurse was young, kind, and even a little naive. If you were in your right mind, you’d feel more empathy for her, be more compassionate or soft, but you weren’t. Your mind was in all of the wrong places all at once.
She reminded you of the nurse you had in the Capitol. She wasn’t there to ease your pain but to keep you alive, make sure you didn’t bleed to death so that you could go through the whole routine all over again the next day. She looked at you like that, too, like she was scared of you, even though you were the one that was powerless, even though you were the one on the brink of death.
Now you weren’t. You’re safe now, Boggs had told you. You didn’t say anything in that moment, but what you wanted to say was that he was wrong.
You’d never feel safe again.
When the nurse brought you to Peeta, Katniss was also there, but she didn’t notice you, staring through the glass of a white room. There was a blond boy in that room, strapped down to the bed.
But this boy wasn’t Peeta.
He wasn’t Peeta at all.
“Y/N?”
You turned away from the sight in front of you to the voice that called your name. The voice belonged to none other than Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the 50th Hunger Games and second Quarter Quell, but you knew him better as the man who drank his sorrows away until he couldn’t remember all that’d happened to him.
You nodded in greeting, but didn’t speak. He looked like he had more he wanted to say but held it in as he glanced back at the room, a young blonde girl entering it and carefully going to sit on the bed.
“She’s too close,” he remarked.
“It’s okay,” someone else responded. You turned and saw a greying man on the other side of Katniss, recognizing him immediately as opposed to when you first met him. Plutarch Heavensbee.
You glanced to Haymitch who was already looking at you. He glanced at the Gamemaker then nodded to you. Whatever he was trying to say didn’t fully translate, and you didn’t understand why this man who had caused so much pain was standing right next to Katniss like it was nothing, but for now, you still remained silent, choosing to let it be.
Throughout this interaction, Katniss had practically been none the wiser, eyes fixed on the inside of that room. When you redirected your attention to the scene, you realized why she was so focused. You still recognized the blonde girl from the reaping, even though it’d been over a year since they took place.
Primrose Everdeen.
Yet little Primrose never went into The Games. Her sister took her place. This was Katniss’ sister.
We live in district 13 now, she told him, her voice soft, soft enough to tell you that even though she was surrounded by war, her childhood was still there. It’s a real place. Stories are true. A pause. You were rescued.
Peeta didn’t look fazed by what she was saying, his attention on something else entirely. The look in his eyes was contained, but you saw it. Anger. My family hasn’t come to see me, he said, but he was talking to himself more than he was talking to Prim.
Family.
You saw your mother’s face in your mind, but you weren’t sure if that was still what she looked like. The last time you saw her was a year ago, her face stricken with grief, tears leaking from her eyes.
She hadn’t come to see you, either.
And you realized it was probably for the same reason Peeta’s family hadn’t come to see him.
At that realization, anything else Peeta or Prim said fell upon deaf ears. You couldn’t hear a thing, your song playing in your head on a loop, dancing so fast that the world blurred and you couldn’t see a thing.
Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing-
“Y/N.”
The call of your name cut through the music, making you turn your head to see Katniss staring at you. You glanced around; Haymitch and Plutarch were gone now, so was Prim. It was just Peeta on the other side of the glass, kicking and yelling, people in scrubs going to sedate him.
You actually looked at her now, noticing the purple marks around her neck that matched the bags underneath her eyes. She looked different now, different from the last time you saw her in person and different from when you saw her on TV.
The Girl on Fire looked like her spark had been extinguished.
And, suddenly, she reminded you of yourself now more than ever.
You nodded to her and then turned to walk away, but her hand caught your wrist. Like a reflex, you yanked it away, spinning around to face her. She muttered a sorry under her breath, making you inhale.
“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice quiet. She couldn’t be blamed for how you could no longer handle touch, neither could Finnick. You felt guilt wash over you as you heard his voice cracking in your head, remembering how you didn’t say a word to him.
He’s fine, you told yourself. He has Annie.
Your thoughts were diverted away from him and back to Katniss as she spoke. “Has anyone explained it all to you yet?” This was a question, even though her voice was monotone while she asked it.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, thinking back to Boggs. “Yeah- um, a little.”
She looked at you like you were a puzzle and she was rearranging the pieces in her head, using what little energy she had. “Did they tell you?”
You furrowed your brows. You were just as if not more tired than her, your mind all over the place, too all over the place to understand what she was asking you. “Tell me what?” You questioned.
She didn’t respond right away, still looking at you as if she was trying to figure you out. Her eyes told you this story; however, her expression was blank. You’d seen snippets of her videos, not in full, never in full, but even from a snippet, you were able to see that look.
The way a victor looked.
When you met Katniss, you thought to yourself that she hadn’t been under the spotlight long enough to have been burned.
But with the spotlight they had on her now, she’d gone up in flames.
After a beat, she ceased her mental debate and decided to speak her thoughts. “I think we should talk.”
And she may not have known it, but what she told you may have just changed the course of your life.
Katniss took you to her room, sat you down, and with her raspy voice, she explained your situation to you. I’m The Mockingjay, she said. And they wanted you, too, Y/N. They wanted the Princess of Panem and The Mockingjay to be the voices of this revolution.
You stared at her wordlessly as she went on, just listening. To her, you must have looked crazy, listening to everything she said without any reaction whatsoever, but you knew that Katniss had been dancing long enough now to read you, too.
You were mind-blown. She was telling you that they wanted you to be a voice for the people, but wasn’t that so ironic? Your voice had been on mute for years. You were silent as you were used in the Capitol. You were silent as they made you go back and take everything from kids, kids just like you. Even when you thought you were about to die and had so many things to say to the boy that you loved, you didn’t say any of it.
How could you ever be a voice?
They chose the wrong person. Katniss was good. She was good at being The Mockingjay, good at saying the right things, and great at being a voice for Panem. But you? You weren’t cut out for this.
Why would she tell you this? This revolution had been well-planned and was proceeding fine without you. Why would she tell you this- why now?
You cut her off mid-sentence. “Katniss, what exactly are you trying to tell me?”
She paused as if she didn’t know the answer, either. Her red eyes glazed over and, for a few seconds, you both sat in silence. You thought she wouldn’t say anything until she looked back up at you. This time, her eyes were full of light, like she’d just realized she held the key to all she ever wanted, all you ever wanted.
And, in a way, she did.
“Hope,” she breathed. “I’m telling you that I have hope for a better world.”
A better world.
Once, you had hopes, too. You hoped that your kids would make it through The Games. You hoped that you could be loved back by the person you loved. You hoped that you could one day mend your relationship with your mother. You hoped that you could be happy.
But each of these hopes were crushed until nothing remained but disappointment.
You didn’t have any hope left.
After Katniss’ declaration, you sat silently before eventually leaving without saying a word.
She was so young. Sometimes, you forgot that. She wasn’t a child, but she was supposed to be. She was supposed to have a childhood, not the weight of a country resting on her shoulders.
But you’d carried the weight of the crown for years now.
You knew better.
You abandoned the idea of hope as soon as you dived off that pedestal in The Games, and then it abandoned you for good the second you woke up in the Capitol.
There wasn’t any hope left, not for you.
You got back to your room, ignoring your nurse who opened her mouth to speak to you but ultimately didn’t say anything, letting the door close in her face. It wasn’t personal. There were too many different people on your mind to think about her, so many words you said and didn’t say floating around, things you did and what was done to you.
You didn’t want to be awake anymore, to think about these things. Sometimes, nightmares offered more relief than your real life ever could.
But as you went to go lie down, you suddenly stopped, seeing something on your bed that hadn’t been there before. It was a sleek black box, one that wasn’t so common back where you were from but became an everyday custom after you won The Games. You picked up, clicking the side button and watching light shoot of it and project an image in front of you.
For a moment, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped.
Because that image that the box projected was of Finnick Odair.
It was a video shot here, in 13, similar to others you’d seen, but you’d never seen this. This was the first time you saw him on camera since before the Quell. And this was also the first time you’d looked into his eyes since you left that night.
Even if you weren’t really looking at him.
Finnick was always charming, the corners of his lips always quirked upward. He had mastered this façade- oh, Finnick knew how to dance, dance around all of the hard topics, dance around everything that was wrong with your lives to make you seem like the perfect happy couple, like victors.
But he didn’t look like that in the video.
He looked solemn. And maybe even a little scared.
No matter his appearance, you could’ve never expected the words that came out of his mouth, never from Finnick, never from one of you, from a victor. But he still said them.
Your mouth fell open. For the first time since you arrived in 13, you let tears fall down your cheeks, though you didn’t know if you could stop them, even if you tried. They burned on their way down, rubbing salt into the bruises you could see and the bruises you could never fix.
May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.
The box in your hands clattered to the ground, the video cutting out as you ran to the toilet, but Finnick’s voice still echoed in your ears. You threw up what very little you had eaten, head spinning.
Dancing, dancing, dancing.
This song didn’t sound right anymore. This dance didn’t feel right anymore. You were so tired of dancing- you just wanted to stop.
But Finnick hadn’t stopped at all.
Finnick was still dancing. Katniss was still dancing. Peeta, Johanna, every single person in Panem was now dancing with you. They knew now. They could hear the music, too. And who would save them?
You had wished for years and years that someone would pull you off the dance floor, that someone would make it stop. There were so many people that knew, so many people that just let you endure it- let you all endure it. How could you let any more people endure anything close to that?
You couldn’t stand on the sidelines and watch as everything burned to the ground. No, you wanted to help them set fire to the Capitol and burn Snow alive.
Hope. I’m telling you that I have hope for a better world.
You may not have had this hope. There was no better world out there for you.
But you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make one for every kid out there that cried and prayed their name didn’t get called at the reapings.
You would not get to live in this better world.
But you would make it in memory of the younger you that could have.
You later found Katniss again, telling her that you’d do it. You left out the part about how you sobbed for hours at the recording you knew she left you because that wasn’t what was important right now. You were not important right now.
This was about something much bigger.
She took you to Coin, who cleared the room at the sight of you, a surprised expression on her face. “Ms. Y/L/N, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She stood up, shaking your hand, glancing at Katniss periodically before looking back to you. “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you sooner-”
“It’s alright,” you cut her off, trying your best to pull your lips into a smile. You had barely been in the room with her for a few seconds, but there was something about this woman that threw you off.
Katniss explained her story to you, how she was a widow, how her entire family died in a day. You sympathized with that, but Alma Coin did not remind you of a widow in the slightest.
She reminded you of the people you saw in the Capitol.
Clearly, she sensed the tension, giving you a smile and letting go of your hand, beckoning you both to sit. You sat down in the chair across from her, surveying the room, looking at the blueprints and papers sprawled everywhere. Your attention was drawn back to the woman when she spoke.
“So, how may I help you? I know adjusting to life here must be hard for you. But I will be here every step of the if you so need it.” You opened your mouth to speak, but she kept going, “You are an incredibly strong young woman. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to live through those Games, nor could I imagine what it must have been like within the walls of the Capitol.”
No, you couldn’t, you thought, but you didn’t say that. Instead, you gave her a stiff smile, hoping that all your practice faking it could make it look believable. It seemed that President Coin had some practice faking it, too.
However, you cut straight to the point. “Madam President, I want to help the rebels in any way that I can.”
Her mouth fell open slightly, as if that was the last thing she was expecting. She looked to Katniss again, like you were out of it. And maybe you were, but so was The Girl on Fire. So were all of you.
It wasn’t fair of her to treat you like glass because, the truth was, she was right. You went through The Games not once but twice, and then you were immediately thrown into the Capitol, facing horrors that you weren’t sure you could ever speak aloud, horrors that flashed before your eyes every time you blinked, even as you sat across from her.
But you were. You were sitting across from her. You were ready to do something.
You may have just been pulled from the Devil’s clutches, but you were ready to walk through Hell all over again if it meant you got to kill him.
Katniss didn’t waver. “So do I.”
Coin’s hesitance was easier than expected to spot. For someone who wanted to lead Panem, she surely wore her heart on her sleeve. Or maybe you had just gotten too good at this dance that you could spot anyone’s slightest misstep.
Slowly, she cautioned, “You both are going through a lot right now-”
The brunette sharply cut her off, “That doesn’t matter.” Your eyes were trained on Coin, but if you stole a glance at Katniss, then you knew you would’ve seen the fire in her eyes. In a way, she hadn’t changed at all since the last time you saw her.
And you wished that was true.
“Send me to the Capitol- send us to the Capitol.” Underneath her demand was pleading. “I’ll do anything.”
Coin brought her hand to her mouth, an indent on her finger where her ring was supposed to be yet no ring in sight. “I can’t.” But she wanted to. “I can’t send you there. We can’t get into the Capitol until we control district 2.”
“Then send us to 2,” you spoke up, her eyes moving to yours. There was some emotion in her eyes, pity or fear, you couldn’t tell, but you didn’t want to know what you looked like to find out. “I can fire up your troops, call out to the loyalists. You’ve seen what The Mockingjay can do, and I don’t doubt that you know what I am capable of.” You paused. “Let us win this for you, Madam President.”
She was silent for a moment, continuing to stare at you as if she was waiting for you to break, to do something that showed her that you weren’t capable of this, but she wouldn’t get that opening. You wanted this more than anything, and you would stop at nothing to get it.
Finally, she blinked, and you knew you had her.
“It would be an honour.”
You didn’t tell Katniss, and you certainly didn’t tell Coin, but a part of you was relieved that you weren’t going back to the Capitol so soon. You just left, and yet it felt like it had both been a world ago and just yesterday.
You didn’t know if you could handle it so soon, going back there. You could barely even handle looking at Finnick.
It wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault. You could never blame him, never for this.
How could you blame him when picturing his face was what got you through it?
How could you blame him when the only reason you survived was to find out if he was still alive?
They told you he was dead. They played his screams on a loop until you couldn’t tell that they stopped. His screams now blended in with the music so well.
Oh, you loved him. You loved him so much more than you could ever express. And maybe that’s why you never told him, but now you knew it was for the best. Finnick was strong, and beautiful, and he had a long life ahead of him with the woman of his dreams. You weren’t gonna get in the way of that.
You knew that you’d never truly be happy without him.
But you also knew from experience that he’d never be happy with you.
These were the thoughts that filled your head on the hovercraft. Even as he was nowhere in sight, his face was still all you could see.
He was here, too. You knew he was. Katniss told you beforehand. She didn’t know the whole story between you two, but she still told you. She had no idea how grateful you were.
You were hiding from him. You accepted the fact that the two of you would never get a happy ending, but that didn’t mean that you were ready to see him, knowing that. If you looked into his ocean blue eyes, God knew that he’d only pull you in and drown you in them.
You couldn’t do that.
It wasn’t fair to him.
It wasn’t fair to Annie.
It wasn’t fair to you.
And it wasn’t fair to all the people that were depending on you.
Suddenly, your thoughts were cut off the sound of footsteps came your way. You looked up, letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw it was just Haymitch.
He nodded to you. “Princess.”
You held back a scoff as he sat down next to you on the floor. “Haymitch.”
You still remembered when you met him. He was one of the first people to actually speak to you after you won your Games. For some reason, the others were too “intimidated” by you, but Haymitch didn’t have much left to be scared of, not when he went into an arena with 47 people and was the only one who walked out.
What you couldn’t remember was the last time you had an actual conversation with him, or at least the last time you had a conversation and he was sober.
“How’d you find me?” you asked, but your eyes were still trained on the floor. He didn’t seem to mind.
“I hang around here sometimes, go through the boxes and see if there’s anything medicinal in ‘em,” he responded, making you chuckle.
If he was looking for something medicinal, then you weren’t such a great replacement.
“Well, sorry you couldn’t find what you were looking for.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shake his head. “No, I need to be brought back to reality, anyway. And you, uh, you do a good job at that.”
You snorted, sensing the compliment was backhanded, even if he didn’t see it that way. Or maybe he did, but Haymitch was never one to hold his thoughts in. “Why, because I’m so fucked up?”
“No.” A beat of silence passed. “Because you remind me of a human’s will to live better than those Games ever did.”
You finally looked up, seeing that he was already looking at you. The sincerity in his eyes was so strong that it burned into yours, making you look away before it burned just enough to spark tears. “I don’t think I’m the best example of that.”
His reply came quick, like he didn’t even have to think about it, but he had no idea how much you would after he said it. “You’re still standing, aren’t you?”
Aren’t you?
You didn’t say anything after that, nor did you look at him, and he didn’t force you to. You spent the rest of the ride pondering over his words.
You thought of every painful thing you ever went through. The Hunger Games. Being sold. The Quarter Quell. The Capitol. Falling in love.
You went through all that, and you were still here. You were still standing.
Weren’t you?
Or were you just waiting for the right moment to fall?
Your thoughts were halted as you felt the hovercraft come to a stop, realizing just how long you’d been thinking. You both stood up, going to leave this room. Like most real conversation you’d had with victors, you thought you both would just pretend it never happened, but right before you were about to enter the main ops room, he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. This time, you stopped the flinch before it could happen, looking up at him.
Haymitch Abernathy was not a soft man. After being cut so many times, his edges were jagged and sharp, but looking at you in that moment, he looked more than just soft. He looked sorry.
He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure to say what he wanted to say or not, something unusual for him. He seemed to have made up his mind, telling you, “Stay standing, Y/N. There are still people out there that can’t do that by themselves.” Then he paused, eyes glazing over.
“Show them that they can.”
Getting off the hovercraft, damage surrounded you. The once pristine nature of district 2 was gone, replaced by devastation, rubble everywhere. If this was district 2, then you couldn’t imagine that any of the other districts were any better, that your district was any better.
Your mind was drawn back to your mother before you shook it away. You couldn’t be thinking of that right now.
A man in black attire carrying an assault rifle greeted you. Not a Peacekeeper. But a chill still went down your spine.
You couldn’t really tell if it was because of the soldier or if it was because you felt Finnick staring at you.
He wasn’t far behind you, in the row behind you and Katniss with Boggs and Gale. You tried to ignore it, but that proved to be harder said than done.
Katniss carried her bow in her hand while a sword was strapped to your belt, lightly hitting your leg as you walked, but you got used to this feeling during your first Games. In a way, it was almost comforting, even though it never should’ve been, even though weapons should’ve never been comforting to a child so young.
But you weren’t a child anymore.
In your hand, you carried a crossbow, Beetee’s special arrows on your back. The sword was really only there for show. This wasn’t The Hunger Games; no, this was a very different and special game entirely.
This was war.
You wouldn’t be getting up close for combat very often, so a crossbow made more sense, but after The Games, weapons started to hold sentimental value, both for the victors and the viewers that watched them. For Katniss, it was her bow; for Finnick, it was his trident; and for you, it was your sword.
Suddenly, as you were making your way to the Justice Building, a bomb went off, shaking the ground and making you spin, your grip on your bow tightening. Your heart was beating rapidly, but Corporal Homes wasn’t fazed, even letting out a little laugh. “Don’t worry. It’s just how the loyalists say good morning.”
You let out a shaky breath, holding the bow tighter to try and stop your hands from trembling. You shut your eyes, trying to calm down, but all that did was bring you right back to the Capitol. Your eyes quickly reopened, but when they did, they met those ocean blues that you’d been trying to avoid.
Your body went rigid. It begged you to look away, but you couldn’t. You were pulled to him like a magnet, a magnet that scraped against you, a magnet that nearly stopped your heart with how strong it was, but no matter how much it hurt you, fighting against it was useless.
Concern swam through his eyes, along with another familiar emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. It had been so long since you last saw him, since you last really saw him. Maybe that was why you couldn’t decipher it.
But, really, it felt like no time had passed at all.
“Are you okay?” God, and his voice. How was it possible that his voice could both fill and create a hole in your heart at the same time? It was both quiet and loud, both sure and uncertain, and caring in every sense of the word.
So warm but made you feel so cold at the same time.
You just looked at him for a few seconds, as if you were hypnotized, until you realized you needed to respond. You nodded, afraid that your voice would crack if you tried to speak.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but a hand came to your shoulder, yanking you out of trance. You turned to see Katniss, glancing between you both for a second before her eyes rested on you. She nodded towards the building and the rest of the crew who had walked ahead of you. You nodded back, walking away from Finnick without another word.
How did we get here? you wondered.
We’re gonna be fine. Look, whenever you get nervous up there, you just hold my hand, alright? You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.
He was right there. He was still right there.
But the difference between then and now was that you could no longer just hold his hand.
He was right there.
But you were still alone.
Once you had put some distance between yourselves and Finnick, Katniss whispered, “I’m sorry.” You turned your head, but her eyes were directed in front of her. “That looked personal.”
“No, it’s fine,” you assured her, and then you left it at that. Because, truth be told, you were grateful for Katniss interrupting you. You weren’t sure you would’ve ever walked away if she hadn’t. But you did. And now you had bigger problems to worry about than your love life, if you could even call it that.
You finally made it into the Justice Building, being greeted by both Commander Lyme and Paylor. While they lived in higher ranks, they were still soldiers. You appreciated how they cut right to the chase.
You and your squad from 13 stood around a table projecting a hologram of district 2’s mountains with at least a dozen other soldiers, more littered throughout the room with Coin on a TV in front of you.
Lyme started, “President Coin, we’re indebted to you for the reinforcements, the Princess, and the Mockingjay.” She glanced at you. “But I’m not sure that anyone outside of 2 knows what we’ve been up against.” She pointed at the hologram. “This is The Nut. The Capitol’s headquarters for all offensive operations. It’s manned by both military and civilian personnel from district 2.” She then continued to explain what all more or less knew, that it lied so deep beneath bedrock that it was untouchable.
“Yesterday, we attempted to take the northeastern gate. The enemy countered from higher up and we were forced to pull back.” She momentarily looked down, her mask of a stone cold commander falling and showing the human behind it. “We took heavy losses.”
Another commander spoke up. “Could we create a decoy? Send troops towards one gate, launch a staggered attack on another.”
Paylor didn’t miss a beat. “Whose troops do you propose as a decoy, Commander?”
Although the question was not directed towards her, Coin still responded, “We have the Mockingjay and we have the Princess of Panem. Do not underestimate their influence. We could use them to erode support, sway some of the loyalists.”
“You’ve been underground a long time, Madam Coin,” Lyme said. “This isn’t like the rest of Panem. Support for the Capitol runs deep here.” And why wouldn’t it? When the oppressor had done just about everything but oppress you, then how could you see the oppression happening everywhere else?
Coin quickly retorted, “Then there is no sacrifice too great.” Her voice was like that of a widow: soft enough that you could tell what she’d been through but firm enough for the exact same reason.
No sacrifice too great… but wasn’t there?
“We need to control the arsenal inside that fortress. Even with every district in this alliance, we are outgunned.” All twelve other districts could band together, but without 2, none of you stood a chance.
No sacrifice too great.
“I won’t commit my people to a ground assault just to pillage weapons.”
“Commander Paylor, your people have suffered more than just about anyone else at the hands of the Capitol.”
“Which is why I won’t condone a mass suicide.”
“If we don’t take district 2, we won’t get into the Capitol.”
For the first time since your entrance, you spoke up. “What if we don’t have to take it?” You felt everyone’s eyes on you but yours remained focused on the hologram in front of you, unblinking as if you weren’t there at all.
And maybe you weren’t.
Lyme responded, “What are you proposing, Ms. Y/L/N?”
What were you proposing? You couldn’t be sure. But you knew what you needed, and that was this war ending in Snow’s final breath.
No sacrifice too great.
“What if we don’t need The Nut to win?” You looked up. “What if we could take it away from them instead?”
Gale seemed to be the only one who caught onto what you were saying, or at least the only one willing to speak it aloud. “We could disable it, trap them inside or flush ‘em out.” He continued, gesturing the hologram. “If we can’t attack straight on, then couldn’t we use our hovercraft to strike around it? We’ll use the mountains; we’ll hit weak spots in the peaks.”
“We could design the bomb targets in sequence using seismic data.”
“Trigger avalanches,” you muttered just above a whisper, imagining it in your head. Something like this happened in The Games once, one of the years you were mentoring. It was catastrophic, akin to a bloodbath. It was a miracle there was even anyone left alive to fight for a victor’s title.
You wondered if Finnick thought of this, too, but you didn’t dare look over at him, looking back to hologram and trying to block the images of blood and terror from your mind.
But as you stood there and spoke about war, you didn’t know if that was possible.
Not when the war in your mind had still yet to be won.
“Block all exits, cut off their supplies. You make it impossible for them to launch their hovercraft.”
Paylor had a look of realization on her face. “Bury them alive.”
“We’d forfeit any chance to control the weapons-”
Beetee cut Coin off, “Yes, but we’d face a weakened Capitol.”
“There’s civilians in there,” Boggs interjected, stoic but any hearing person could hear the compassion in his voice. Civilians. Is that what they were?
You were a civilian too, once. Then you were a tribute, a pawn, a victor, the Princess. Did civilians still exist? What kind of civilians could support the Capitol? What kind of human beings could support the torture you were subjected to, the torture people in the districts were subjected to on a daily basis?
You wondered if your mother was given the courtesy of a civilian before the Capitol took her life.
You weren’t.
“They should be given a chance to surrender. Could use one of the supply tunnels for the evacuees.”
“It’s a luxury we weren’t given when they firebombed 12,” Gale said, as if he were reminding you, as if any of you needed a reminder.
“There’s gotta be a better way.” You were already so focused, but if you were losing attention in any way, Katniss brought it back, the disbelief in her voice audible to everyone in the room. She glanced in between Gale and you, but she didn’t get whatever response she expected of you.
Katniss may have had hope for the good of humanity, but you didn’t have that. The Capitol took that away from you without a second thought. She may have been driven by hope, but you were driven by anger.
There was no sacrifice too great.
“I suggest we try the avalanche, but leave the train tunnel alone,” Coin decided. “Civilians can escape into the square, where our armies will be waiting for their surrender.”
“We should have every available medic standing by.”
“And if they won’t surrender?” Lyme challenged.
Coin’s lips almost formed a smile. “Then we will need a compelling voice to persuade them.” And a voice was something she had.
The Mockingjay and the Princess, two sides of the same coin. Heads or tails, luck was on the President’s side either way.
You tuned out after that, letting everyone else talk logistics. Throughout the entire conversation, you didn’t hear Finnick say a word. He was perhaps the most talkative person you had ever met, and yet now, he had nothing to say.
He only looked at you the whole time, like an artifact.
And even as you walked away, you still felt the cold burn of his stare.
You watched from a broken window of the Justice Building as the hovercrafts started, rubble blowing in the wind. The sight was magnetic, pulling you in to look at it. It was almost beautiful.
This world could’ve been beautiful.
You wished that this dance could have been more beautiful before it made your feet bleed.
You watched as the hovercrafts danced in the sky before dropping bombs on the mountains, dancing to the sound of explosions and then to the sound of cheers around you.
Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing-
“This isn’t right.” A voice brought you out of your trance. You turned to see Katniss, her eyes on the scene outside the window, as mesmerized as you were. But mesmerized wasn’t the right word. She was stricken by horror.
Oh, if she saw what happened to you that could make you ever justify this. If she saw what happened to Peeta to make him hysteric. If she saw what happened to Johanna to make her numb. If she saw, then would she still be so transfixed then?
If she saw, would she still be standing?
If she saw, would she understand why you still were?
You stared at her for a moment, contemplating if you would say any of this before deciding against it, turning back and monotonously replying, “It’s fire catching, Everdeen.”
She scoffed, “And we’re lighting the match.”
Sharply, you countered, “Don’t forget that the Capitol poured gasoline everywhere first.” You turned back to see her already looking at you. A sigh left your lips. “They did this, Katniss.”
“And so anyone that had anything to do with it deserves to burn for it?”
No.
Yes.
“Did we deserve to burn, Girl on Fire?” You caught her off guard, anger slipping through the cracks of your voice, resolution filling your eyes. “Did we deserve to burn in those reapings, in those parades, in those damn Games as they all made a spectacle of it? All those kids and their families, did they deserve to burn just because the Capitol saw fit?” She was silent, tears coming to her eyes that she refused to let fall, so different from that girl you were with in the arena yet the exact same. Your eyes burned, too. “The way I see it, we’re fighting fire with fire.” You scoffed. “At least we’re giving them a way out.”
You didn’t stick around to hear Katniss’ response, walking away to find whoever would tell you what do next. You could’ve stood by that window for the rest of the night, watching as the terror unfolded, but you had more important things to do than watch the fire.
You had to go light a match.
You examined yourself in the mirror blankly. You were donning a black costume, and a costume it was. Because what was a costume if not an impersonation of something you were not?
But someone thought that this was what you were. Someone thought that you could be a leader. Cinna did—or at least that’s what Effie Trinket told you. You didn’t know why she seemed to be in charge of “design” or why she showed such an interest in you, but you supposed it wasn’t so unusual for an artifact.
Your makeup artists did their jobs fabulously, painting your face until you were almost unrecognizable, until you looked like that girl from before The Games, that girl that the people of Panem knew and loved. With this makeup, you couldn’t see the circles under your eyes, the discolouration of your face. They made you look alive again.
On the outside, at least.
On the inside, you weren’t sure if there was any makeup that could repair the damage that’d been done.
Your hair had been braided into an updo, like a crown. They tried to give you back your necklace, the one Finnick gave to you before The Games, but you never wanted to see that necklace again, never wanted to see a rose ever again.
You would hate the smell of roses for the rest of your life.
“It’s time.” You looked away from your reflection to see Haymitch standing at the door. You nodded to him, glancing back at the mirror one last time before exiting the room. Katniss fell into step with you both as you made your way toward the train tunnel, but remained silent. You didn’t speak, either.
Soon, you were joined by the rest of your Star Squad, but you avoided any and all eye contact with Finnick. It’d be a shame to cry and ruin all that beautiful makeup on your face.
It’d be a shame to feel something right now when you felt so numb.
But you’d quickly be feeling a lot.
“Don’t worry, Katniss. There’ll be survivors,” Boggs tried to reassure. She glanced at him, but didn’t respond.
Haymitch was more concentrated on what you came here to do. “Let’s focus on what it is you gotta say.” He looked in between both of you. “Now, Plutarch wrote a speech that either of you can read-”
“No,” you both simultaneously said, briefly glancing at each other.
Haymitch sighed, throwing the cards to the side. “Okay, didn’t think so. Let’s, uh…” he stopped you both, standing in front of you. “But just remember you’re talking to everybody. Not just the rebels, but the Capitol, the survivors in 2. We want them to lay down their arms. So you- both of you might wanna experiment with a little sensitivity, warmth.”
They have the upper-hand, that’s what he was really saying. But you understood how this worked. You’ve danced this dance a million times already.
“Don’t worry, Haymitch. I know how to fake it.” He looked over at you as if he wanted to say something, but Boggs spoke before he could.
“Make it quick, you’re exposed.”
Katniss walked toward the tunnel first, turning once she was far enough to face the rest of you. They decided that she would go first. She had been at this for a while now, much longer than you.
You’re lucky, you know.
How so?
You just are.
Maybe the Katniss Everdeen that you met in the training centre was lucky, but this one, the one who shot an arrow at the force field in the Quarter Quell, the one who became a symbol before she could even blink… you weren’t so sure that this one was so lucky. Not anymore. Not in this world.
Luck didn’t exist in this new world.
“This is Katniss Everdeen, speaking to all of the loyalists from the heart of district 2-”
“Survivors! Inbound!”
The sound of the train’s horn became audible to you, its wheels screeching against the train tracks. Boggs went running for Katniss while a hand grabbed your shoulder. This time, you couldn’t hold back the flinch.
“We need to go, Y/N.” And then your body went rigid.
That was your name.
That was your name coming from Finnick Odair.
You didn’t even notice when he moved so close to you.
You swallowed, nodding, but it was like your feet were cemented to ground. You couldn’t move. If you moved, if you turned around, then you’d be looking right into his eyes.
Oh, there was time when the only thing you wanted to do was stare into his eyes all day. And maybe the problem was that you still wanted to.
You closed your eyes, inhaling a shaky breath, and when you opened them, the survivors were jumping off the train, being forced down to the ground, guns pointed at them, loud noise everywhere. Suddenly, you couldn’t take your eyes off of what was happening, even as every bone in your body begged you to, even as your head spun.
Finnick’s hand was still on your shoulder, but neither of you moved. None of you did.
Another man jumped off, looking disoriented, but what drew your attention to him wasn’t his appearance but the gun in his hand. The grip on your shoulder got tighter.
“Drop it! Drop your weapon! You! Drop it,” Boggs shouted, aiming his machine gun at him as he moved in your direction. “Drop the gun! Drop it-”
Suddenly, a gun went off, and everyone was screaming. You ducked down, eyes frantically darting everywhere before they settled on Katniss, running towards him, yelling. Your eyes widened, a wave of déjà vu passing over you as you remembered this exact scenario in the Quell, Katniss running towards danger and you running after her.
And just like that, even though you were paralyzed by fear, you quickly shot up, running after her without a thought. “Katniss!”
“Y/N!”
“Stop! He needs help!” She screamed as you were about to reach her. The next moment happened too fast for you to grasp it, the man jabbing his gun at her chin and cocking it. You skidded to a stop where you were, your breath catching in your throat.
Boggs was shouting, but your ears rang. It was almost as if you could feel that barrel on your own skin, and maybe it was because you had.
Snow’s voice rang through your head, Tell me about the rebel plan, Y/N.
You’re gonna have to kill me first.
Oh, sweet girl. He had knelt down next to you. I will make you wish that you died in that arena.
The man’s voice shook you out of your daze. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t shoot you.”
“Drop the gun!”
Katniss was silent, staring right into his eyes, but you saw what was behind the brave façade she was putting on. She didn’t have a reason.
“She can’t.” His eyes went to you, widening as if he hadn’t realized you were there. You stepped forward, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. Inside, you were shaking, but on the outside, you were calm and collected. On the inside, you were just a tribute in this game, but on the outside, you were the victor that everyone had crowned you.
“We blew up your mine. But you burned her district to the ground- my district to the ground.” You stepped closer, your resolve hardening. “So I guess we both have every reason to want to kill each other, but, really, does that make sense?” You asked, not looking away from his eyes once. “You know who I am. You know who she is, and I can bet that you know a few of the people standing behind me. So many people that the Capitol has rooted for, that you have rooted for- why would we be doing this? After the riches, and the glitz, and the glamour, why would we fight back against a system that has supposedly given us everything?”
Because they took everything from you first.
You took another step closer, putting your hands up when he jabbed the gun in Katniss’ neck. “Look around you.” He quickly glanced around before his eyes fell back on you. “Are these the people you want to kill? The same people that you cheered for?” Slowly, your hands fell. “Why are you fighting us? Why are you fighting the rebels? You’re neighbours. You’re family.”
He looked up at you for a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. In his eyes, you could see evil, chaos. But you also a sliver of humanity, and you prayed to God that you reached past the chaos to the humanity. You prayed to whoever would listen that he heard you. And, maybe, for the first time, the universe was on your side, because his gun slowly lowered to the ground.
You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Katniss was stuck in a trance until you pulled her up, but you weren’t so focused on her. Your eyes panned over the people, your people and the loyalists alike, but they were all just people, you realized.
They were all just people.
“There is no our side or your side,” you yelled, backing away from the man and facing everyone. “There is only freedom and captivity. These people are not your enemy.” You turned, facing the rest of the crowd. “We all have one enemy. And that’s Snow.” Tears gathered in your eyes. “He does not care who you are or how loyal you are, how important you are—to him, we are all just pieces in a game.”
You pointed to your people behind you. “Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Finnick Odair, Peeta Mellark, Annie Cresta, Johanna, Beetee, Enobaria- we are all that is left from three generations of victors. The rest of them are dead.” The faces of those that you killed flashed through your mind. “Slaughtered in the Quarter Quell or killed in the aftermath, it’s all the same. They were murdered by the Capitol—and it didn’t matter how important, or loyal, or loved they were- their lives were ended like they didn’t mean a thing.”
“And they would do the same to any of you if it benefit them.” You shook your head, raising your voice. “Stop killing for him.” You paused, breathing heavily. Your fight was not with people in the districts. Your fight was with one person and one person only. It was time that everyone else saw that. “Tonight, turn your weapons to the Capitol. Turn your weapons to Snow.”
Before you could say another word, gunfire erupted and you were falling to the ground.
And then your vision went black.
“Please, I don’t know anything,” you sobbed, fighting against your restraints, but it was no use.
Snow tutted, coming out from the shadows in which he hid. “Oh, Y/N, I wish I could believe that.”
Your body shook. “Please, I’m telling the truth, I don’t know anything about a revolution.”
“And yet all of your comrades did?”
You rapidly shook your head back and forth, worsening the pounding in your mind. They kept telling you about an uprising, but you didn’t know what they were talking about. They said you knew, but you didn’t know. They said that Katniss knew, that Peeta knew, that Johanna knew, that Finnick knew, but they couldn’t have.
You didn’t know.
You didn’t know where they were.
You prayed that Finnick was safe, but if he wasn’t, then you prayed that he was dead. You’d rather him be dead than ever face what you were facing now.
“They didn’t. I didn’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Snow looked at you silently for a few moments, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Then brought his hand up. You flinched, but his hand only went to your hair, petting it. The look in his eyes was almost something like pity, you realized, but it wasn’t real. You didn’t know how long you’d been there, wherever you were, but in the time you there, you learned that President Snow was incapable of sympathy.
You even thought that he enjoyed this.
“Oh, my dear princess… I would’ve hoped that you would’ve learned to be honest with me by now,” he sighed, and then he took his hand away and looked away from you altogether, looking to the Peacekeeper that’d moved to the wall. “Again. And let’s be a little more… effective this time.” He moved to walk away, and you shook your head.
“No, no- please don’t- please, please- no- no!”
You shot up, panting, your hands digging into blankets. Your eyes darted around the room and you realized you were back in your bed in the medical centre. A hand was placed over yours and you immediately shuffled away, your eyes going to the person and meeting blue, concerned orbs.
Finnick held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” Your chest still rapidly fell up and down, but for some reason his presence calmed you down and put you into a panic all at the same time.
Only Finnick could do that to you.
You closed your eyes, blinking the remnants of your nightmare away, even if that nightmare wasn’t a nightmare but rather just the life you so happened to live. You’re here, Y/N. You’re alive.
But why?
“How am I alive?” you croaked, looking down at the dull bed sheets instead of into his eyes. It was funny: you looked down to avoid the blue of his eyes, but the colour of these sheets was so similar.
What’s your favourite colour?
It’s blue, not really dark or light either. Sort of green- it’s close to grey, too.
Now that colour just made you want to cry.
Finnick didn’t say anything for a moment, as if he was shocked that you were even speaking to him. And you were, too. You hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, and if you went back to the last time you spoke, back in the arena, you would’ve never thought that this was how it would turn out. Even if you went back to just your first days in the Capitol, you still could’ve never imagined a reality where you didn’t speak to Finnick.
But you could’ve never imagined any of this happening in the first place.
If you went back to the night you met him, you could’ve never imagined how deeply you’d fall for this boy.
And you never could’ve imagined how much it’d hurt when you hit the ground.
Finnick’s voice was low when he finally spoke. “You were shot back in 2. But the bullets were stopped by your costume. Cinna made sure that it was bulletproof.”
Cinna.
The way people spoke about him, in the past tense, the way you hadn’t seen him anywhere. You’d figured that he was dead.
You wondered how many more people would die for this revolution before you could all be free.
“The doctor says you sustained minor injuries, bruised rib, bruised lung. But nothing worse than the injuries you came back from the Capitol with.” At that, you turned your head to face him, meeting his eyes immediately. His eyes were soft but almost hard. He was almost looking at you the same way he did after you volunteered for Annie. In his eyes, you saw care, confusion, sadness, some anger, and emotions you couldn’t name, but most of all, you could see the pure exhaustion weighing him down.
He stared at you for a few seconds, or maybe a few minutes, maybe longer than that—time didn’t seem to exist. “Why would you do that, Y/N?” He whispered. And in that moment, you knew you weren’t talking to the Prince of Panem, the victor of The 65th Hunger Games, or the soldier who wanted to build a better world.
You were just talking to Finnick.
And that scared you.
Your breath hitched.
Why would you do that?
Finn-
Why would you volunteer?
Because you had to.You volunteered for Annie because you had to, the same way you did what you just did because you had to. To you, there was no choice, only one path to follow.
“I did what I was meant to do, Finnick.” Even as you willed it not to, your body betrayed you, your voice cracking on his name, but this time, you kept eye contact. And even though you were talking to Finnick, the Finnick that held you at night and soothed you when you cried, your Finnick, he was not talking to Y/N, not the Y/N that he held and soothed.
That Y/N could not talk to Finnick, not this Finnick.
If she did, you didn’t know if you’d ever get her back again.
He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking. “No, you could’ve died.” I’m already dead.
“But I didn’t.” But I did.
“But you almost did!” You flinched as his hands went up in the air, and then he froze, freezing you with him. You flinched. You flinched like he was gonna hit you, and he saw that. You cursed yourself immediately, wishing you could take it back as the look that encompassed his eyes became hurt.
There were few times when Finnick ever looked at you like that, and you could remember each as if they just happened. You never wanted to see that look on his face again, to be the reason for that look.
Time stopped again. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to apologize, but you couldn’t find the words. And before you could, time picked back up. Finnick’s hands fell down to the bed, and he looked away from you, lowering his voice. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”
Tears welled in your eyes. He didn’t know what he was saying. “You could have the world at your fingertips, Finnick.”
“There is no world for me if you’re not in it.” He looked back at you. And you couldn’t tell if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn there were tears in his eyes, too. “You’re my world, Y/N.” And just like that, any hope you had of remaining invulnerable shattered and the dam you were trying to hold in your eyes broke, tears falling down your face.
You shook your head, silent sobs wracking your body. Did he have any idea the effect he had on you? Did he have any idea what he was doing to you? “Why are you saying these things?”
Something akin to a scoff left his lips. “Because it’s true-”
“No- no, they’re not-”
Finnick latched onto your hand, making you look right at him. This time, you saw tears trailing down his cheeks, and they seemed so real. “Y/N, I swear to you on everything I believe in that I’m telling you the truth.”
You wished it was the truth. You wished that this was real. You had been wishing that your pretending could become real for ages now.
But you’d danced this dance long enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.
Even if Finnick had convinced himself that it would.
“It’s impossible.”
“I l-”
“Ms Y/L/N?” You both turned the source of the new voice, finding your doctor at your door. She glanced between you both carefully as you ripped your hands away from Finnick’s, wiping at the tears that’d fallen and the ones that continued to fall. “May I speak with you, please?” She requested, glancing at him.
He quickly stood up, but this time, you weren’t looking. “Yeah, I’ll, uh- I’ll head out.” He paused for a second, like he was waiting for you to say something, but you weren’t sure that you could continue to speak to him right now, even if you wanted to. When you remained silent, you heard his shoes pitter-patter against the ground as he made his way out of the room.
When he was gone, you exhaled and Dr. Terren looked back at you. She hesitated, “Did I… interrupt something?”
“No,” you breathed out. “Nothing important.”
She nodded after a beat, getting right into her medical talk, but she didn’t look so convinced.
And you weren’t sure that you were, either.
You were hit bad, the doctor said, but it could’ve been worse. And she was right. It could’ve been worse.
You didn’t feel a thing. Lung, ribs—all you felt was heartache. Maybe it was good that you couldn’t feel the pain. But you couldn’t be sure.
She kept pushing the same idea: therapy. That’s where Johanna was. That’s where Peeta was. But that wasn’t gonna be where you were. Terren kept talking about trauma, about how this near-death experience called for you to talk to someone, but really, what good would that do?
Would that therapist understand? Did they go through what you went through? Did they understand what you were going through? You didn’t have time to stop and talk about your feelings, if you could even sort them out into words, nor did you want to reminisce over anything that happened while you were in the Capitol.
Even if reminiscing was all you could do.
When Terren left, you ripped the IV out of your arm, leaving your hospital room to go to the other room they gave you. At least that one wasn’t filled with your favourite colour.
Your room in 13 was grey, like most things here. It was drab, but you wouldn’t complain. Anything was better than the Capitol. The door to your room slid open, and then you stopped. On your floor was the same black box Katniss left you, the same one you watched Finnick from.
Poison.
You swallowed, deciding to ignore the box altogether and go to your ensuite. You never wanted to see that video again. Watching it from that box was the first time you ever saw it, and it would be the last.
They must have gone through extra effort to hide it from you in the Capitol. They made you believe he was dead. You believed this was such conviction that, when you saw him again after the rescue, you thought you were dreaming.
You even thought you’d died.
You even wished you did.
As you looked at yourself in the mirror, dead is what you looked like. That bullet may not have killed you, but you still looked like a corpse. You’re very lucky to be alive, Y/N, Dr. Terren told you.
Luck.
If luck was what kept you alive, then it wasn’t good luck at all. Luck would’ve been that bullet puncturing like it was intended to.
Your hand went to your ribs, looking at the bandages wrapped around them in the mirror. Then your hand travelled to your hair. Long and silky, so sought after in Panem. But as you ran your hands through it, you didn’t feel its softness. All you felt was Snow’s hand, petting you as you begged him not to kill you.
And then that turned into you begging for the exact opposite.
You don’t know how long you were looking at your reflection before you were opening and closing the sink drawers, your hands moving with a mind of their own. Part of you didn’t know what you were doing, but another part of you must have as you suddenly stopped, having found what you were looking for.
Scissors.
You picked them up, staring at them as if they were treasures, watching the light glare off the blades. You didn’t know what you were doing.
All you knew was that this feeling was tearing you apart.
And that’s all you could focus on.
Suddenly, your hand holding the scissors was moving. You still didn’t know what you were doing, but before you could find out, your name sounded.
“Y/N?”
You looked up, seeing Katniss stand in the doorway, confusion on her face that slowly contorted to fear. She glanced down at your hands, making you do the same. Quickly, you moved the scissors away from your wrist, unknowing of how they even got there.
You looked back at Katniss, your mouth opening and closing. You didn’t know what to say. Finally, you stammered, “I- I-” she looked back up at you and you realized that she, too, didn’t know what to say. “My hair. It’s- I want to cut my hair.”
That’s not what you were doing.
Katniss seemed to know that, not looking convinced in the slightest. She was quiet for a few moments, eyes on the scissors before she was walking towards you. Gently, she pried them out of your hand, as if you were a child holding a gun.
Then her eyes met yours. The eyes that were once hard as stone now looked at you with softness. “I’ll help you,” she whispered. She nodded to herself, repeating, “I’ll help you.”
You were grateful for her going with your story, even if it was just because she didn’t know what to say to what she really saw. She moved behind you, exhaling and getting ready right away.
And she may not have known this, but in just her walking in, she had already helped you more than you could’ve ever helped yourself.
Muffled chatter came to your ears as you sat in one of the common areas. Most people ate in the cafeteria, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in there. Finnick was in there, along with Katniss, and you couldn’t really talk to either of them right now.
With Finnick, you didn’t know where you stood. He said so much to you in your hospital room, after you were shot, but you didn’t know what to make of any of it. He was talking to you like you were more than just fake lovers—and truth be told, that’s what you were. You may have forgotten that for a while or pretended for too long, but it was fake. The dance changed every so often, but at its core, it was the same.
Finnick was acting like this was a dance you engaged in voluntarily, like this was a dance he enjoyed dancing. While you had no one you’d rather dance with, you knew it wasn’t the same for him. You saw the way he looked at Annie; you saw it for the entirety of your “relationship.” He looked at her with such tenderness and care, like she put the stars in the sky. The second you saw her, the second you saw the way he looked at her, you knew that you didn’t stand a chance.
But for some reason, in that hospital room, you almost felt like he looked at you that way.
And that didn’t make sense.
That didn’t make sense at all.
Another part of you didn’t want him to see you like this, not again. Katniss did, and you weren’t ready to see her so soon, either. It was a weak moment, you told yourself, but you were fine now. You were here for a reason—you were still here for a reason.
Show them that they can.
You didn’t have hope, but you were still the hope of so many people, the hope of Panem. You weren’t gonna let them down. You were not going to stand by and let Snow’s reign of terror continue.
You made a pact with yourself. As Katniss was cutting your hair, you promised yourself that you would see this through. Afterward, it didn’t matter what happened, but you would fight until this country was free.
Even if you died for it in the process.
“Looking good, Princess.”
Your head shot up from your tray and, for the first time since you arrived in 13, you felt a smile arise on your face. “Johanna.” Your tray was pushed to the side as you stood, wrapping your arms around her.
“Easy. I hear you’re injured.”
“I’m fine, Jo,” you reassured her, pulling away. She mirrored your smile, a sight you never thought you’d see again after what you heard in the Capitol.
“You always are, aren’t you?” She retorted. You only continued to smile, opting not to respond. She must’ve seen your discomfort—of course she did, she knew you so well—so she changed the subject. “It’s good to see you.”
“Ditto,” you responded, even if it was a little untrue. You loved Johanna. She was the first person you looked for when you got to 13, and seeing her right now made you so unbelievably happy, a happy you didn’t anticipate feeling for a long time, but it wasn’t good to see her like this.
She had always put on a brave face, was always so much stronger than you, but right now, she looked like she was barely holding on. Her eyes were hollow, bags underneath them that matched yours. Her face was pale. And the beautiful red streaks that had once filled her hair, the hair that she loved, was now gone. It was all gone.
The Capitol took it just to show her that they could.
And even though you cut yours out of your own will, they still took yours, too.
Eventually, she sat down with you, resting her head on your shoulder. Before, when things were bad before they got worse, you’d sit together in the Capitol, you, her and Finnick, and you’d pass time together, just like this.
Except Finnick wasn’t here.
However, you convinced yourself that it was for the best.
Annie. He had Annie. You volunteered for Annie, got yourself in this position for Annie, so that he could have a life with her, the life he always wanted. He may have denied it, or maybe he didn’t know that you knew, but some nights, he’d dream about her, talking in his sleep. He wanted to marry her, to have kids with her.
He could do that now. This is what you did this for, so that he could have his happy ending. Even if it meant taking away yours for good.
Like she was reading your thoughts, Johanna muttered, “How come you aren’t in the cafeteria with prince charming?”
You stiffened, but you still knew how to dance this dance, deflecting, “Why aren’t you?”
She lightly chuckled. “Good point.” She didn’t answer, even though you knew the reason why, just as she probably knew the answer to her question. You expected her to drop it, but you supposed you should’ve known better from Johanna Mason. She was silent for a few moments until she spoke again. “He loves you, you know.”
You sighed, “Jo-”
“That boy loves you with all he has, Y/N.” She lifted her head up from your shoulder, making you look at her. “Always has, still does.”
Oh, Finnick and you were incredible. You made the masses believe that the love you shared was real- he made them believe it. You didn’t have to do any work. It wasn’t acting for you, but you knew it was for him.
Not even Johanna knew that it wasn’t real. She might’ve suspected, but for all she knew, you two were really in love. You wished that was true. For years, you wished that was true.
But your wishes rarely ever came true.
“It’s not that simple,” you said.
She slightly tilted her head. “Isn’t it?” Her words echoed throughout your head. Isn’t it? It should’ve been. In a different world, maybe it was that simple. In a different world, maybe the two of you really were as in love as everyone thought you were. In a different world, maybe all those wishes and all that pretending could’ve been a reality.
But that was not this world.
So you didn’t say anything, instead resting your head on her shoulder this time, conveying your thoughts to her without speaking them.
I wish it was.
You lied on your bed in silence, staring up at the plain ceiling and imagining patterns of your own. Back at home, the ceilings had colourful swirls on them, muted tones swooshing together. But that wasn’t really your home. The home you came from didn’t have pretty designs or fancy furniture. The home you came from had paint peeling off the walls. The home you came from didn’t have furniture at all.
But that wasn’t really your home, either.
At some point, you think, that place was something like a home. When your dad was still alive, you’d wake up every morning to the scent of food cooking in the kitchen, even if it was only a bit. But then he died, and there was no one to buy food at all.
That year, you barely ate a thing.
The next year, you picked up the slack. You could still remember it, being ten years old and finding your father’s hunting gear. Going into the forest, you were scared. You didn’t want to harm an animal.
But you did.
And then you did it every time after that.
When you came home, you saw the way your mother looked at you. Somewhere inside of her, something cracked. Somewhere inside of her, she saw something that you couldn’t. And, after that, she started looking at you a lot less.
Five years later, you were sent off to The Games. You could remember seeing your mother in the crowd, but when you got into the Justice Building, she wasn’t there. You waited. And she never showed. But you held your tears and told yourself you had to stay strong, for her, because she couldn’t.
You thought about her in the arena. You thought about her when you picked up that sword. You thought about her when you took your first life. You thought about her when Bay died. And you thought about her when Claudius announced that you, Y/N Y/L/N, had won the 67th Hunger Games.
Was she watching? you wondered. Is she happy?
When you got back to 4 and opened the door to your house, her jaw fell. Like she didn’t know. Like she was shocked. Like she never thought you’d win at all.
Like she didn’t want you to.
Mom, I- I won. Did you watch?
Silence. I watched. I tried, I just- I couldn’t watch you kill after that first- that-... The boy. A boy your age. A boy you stabbed into. A boy who you watched bleed out. A boy whose blood was on your hands–and with the way your mother stared at you, you almost felt like the stains were still there.
And they might as well have been.
She hugged you. But it didn’t feel like she was doing it because she missed you. It felt like she was doing it because that’s what a mother is supposed to do. They’re supposed to hug you–they’re supposed to love you.
But you weren’t you anymore.
You moved into the new house together. Then, soon after, you were moving into Finnick’s, leaving the house to her. You think she was relieved, relieved that she wouldn’t be sleeping in the same house as a killer.
And now, as you lied on this rough bed in 13, there was no house at all. No old house, no new one, no Finnick’s house, no district 4 at all. No mom, either.
What was the last thing I said to her? you wondered. Why can’t I remember the last thing I said to her?
Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t even remember when you last spoke to her. Your own mother. She was the woman who gave birth to you, the woman who raised you. Yet you couldn’t remember the last time you were in the same room.
And now you’d never be in the same room again.
A burning grew in your throat, but you didn’t let the tears fall, blinking them away. You’d cried an ocean of tears already. Now wasn’t the time to cry anymore. Now was the time to be strong.
You never wanted this. You didn’t choose this, to be princess of a country that only abused its citizens, a country that threw you to the wolves then claimed they loved you when you came out seemingly unscathed, a country that wouldn’t have loved you so much if they knew just how scathed you were.
You did not choose this. But, for some reason, it chose you. The people chose you. The people believed in you. They believed that you were some sort of hero, coming to save them all from this villain that had hurt them all so badly. They didn’t know that it wasn’t true, that you weren’t a hero. They didn’t know that you were scared of the villain, too.
But if the people in the districts could believe in you, the people being bombed and attacked, the people grieving the loss of their loved ones–if they could believe that, then you could, too.
If the people of Panem believed you could be a hero, then you promised yourself that that’s what you’d be.
“So I changed the chemical compound of the powder, adding more fluorine to excite the electrons, causing them to jump more rapidly from orbital to orbital and ignite faster as-”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Beetee paused, like he was surprised that you couldn’t understand. To him, it was so simple, but to most people, like yourself, it had no meaning. “Chemical reaction,” he reiterated. “I increased the strength of the chemical reaction so you can hit more.”
Your mouth formed an O shape. “Makes sense. That’s all you had to say, y’know.”
His mouth opened, likely to say something sweet and snarky as per usual when the two of you spoke, but he was halted by the door to the armory sliding open. You both turned to see The Mockingjay making her way into the room.
Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment before you regulated it, calming yourself down. You hadn’t seen Katniss since she walked in on you in the bathroom. The way her eyes met yours told you that she remembered that day well, too. But if you knew anything about Katniss Everdeen, it was that feelings were not her strong suit. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, then she’d pretend it never happened.
You hoped she’d pretend. If you knew Katniss as well as you thought you did, then she was just as good at pretending as you.
“You wanted to see me?” she queried, directing her vision to Beetee. A breath left you.
“Yeah, I wanted to show you both your new arrows. I adde-”
You cut him off, “He did something to the chemicals to make the arrows better.”
“Reaction. I increased the force of the chemical reaction.”
“Same difference.”
Beetee took a deep breath, closing his eyes and then reopening them. “Since you’re so… well-versed, you can explain it to her.” You snorted at his response while he wheeled away. Beetee always had the ability to make you laugh, even if it wasn’t his intention.
When you looked away from his retreating figure, you were met with Katniss staring right at you, realizing she was still in the room. Her brows furrowed, a light, light smile on her face that would otherwise be invisible to a stranger. “I’ve never seen Beetee get so… irritated.”
The tension in your shoulders dissipated as they shook with your laughter. Nobody had seen him get annoyed often, unless you were around. “Yeah, that happens when you're stuck in the Capitol with someone for years on end.”
Beetee was always a pretty good friend. You met at a Capitol function, of course, and from then on, you made it a point to annoy him whenever you could. Besides amusing you, it also served as a reminder that he was a human, too, not just some Capitol pawn.
Snow didn’t sell Beetee, but he used him in so many other ways. You and Finnick were their pride, but insiders knew that Beetee was their prize. He was perhaps the smartest person you’d ever met, but you figured that, every once in a while, he deserved to let his guard down and just be normal for a few minutes.
And, deep down, you knew he wasn’t as annoyed as he seemed.
Even though you were laughing, the smile on the brunette’s face slowly dimmed as she looked down. Your smile disappeared. “What is it?”
She was quiet for a second until she spoke, “You and the other victors… you all seemed close.”
Seemed.
Pictures flashed through your mind, pictures of your time in the Capitol. Normally, when you thought about your time there, you pictured all the bad, all the conversations behind closed doors, all the grown men and women who used you when you were still a child. What you didn’t think about was all the kids who were there with you, all the kids who had to grow up just as you did.
Some of these people were people you killed, the same people you had conversations with, the same people who were going through exactly what you were going through.
You were close.
Until you weren’t.
You didn’t say anything for a while, letting yourself remember it all. “Yeah,” you finally responded. “Yeah, we were.” And you didn’t say anything more on the matter. You didn’t know what more there was to say. You cleared your throat, changing the topic. “Anyways, this is what Beetee wanted to show us.” You picked up the arrows, showing them to her.
She hummed, looking back up. You knew that she knew what you were doing, but fortunately, she went along with it. “Never knew you could shoot.”
“Oh, please, Everdeen, anyone who grew up in the districts can shoot.”
“Yeah, doesn’t mean they’re any good,” she retorted, shrugging.
You narrowed your eyes. “Is that a challenge?”
She shrugged again. “I don’t know, is it?”
Another laugh left your lips, your third time laughing since arriving in 13. “You’re on, Girl on Fire.” You grabbed one of the non-incendiary arrows and a random bow lying on the table, loading the arrow in.
You faced your body to the targets across the room, bringing the bow up to your ear, pulling the arrow back, and eying the red. The corners of your lips quirked upward and, as soon as you turned your head to face Katniss, you let it fly. The look on her face made your smirk widen, turning to see that you hit the target dead-centre.
“How the hell did you just do that?” She walked closer, shock etched onto her face.
“Precision. And years of experience,” you replied, lowering the bow. “My father was a hunter.”
When you looked back at her, she had a different expression, like she was remembering something. Her eyes glazed over. “So was mine.” Her eyes found yours again, and this time, there was something there that wasn’t there before.
Back when you met, she was just Katniss Everdeen, and you were just the Princess. But now, you were both a lot more than that.
It seemed that you and Katniss Everdeen were more alike than you thought.
Right before the 74th Hunger Games, when you and Finnick were watching the training scores on TV, you didn’t think the tributes from 12 stood a chance, even though the girl had the highest score.
Watching the Games, you disregarded them completely, even as they got just as many sponsors as your tributes. You watched as Haymitch Abernathy actually tried, actually cared for these kids, but not even that deterred you.
You ignored the possibility of them winning at all. You wanted it to be your tributes, so badly. They were good. You wanted them to survive, one of them to survive, to make it out of this, to live the rest of their lives. But you should’ve known better.
No matter your best efforts, those kids died, and there was nothing you could’ve done about it.
After that, you assumed it’d go to the Careers. Glimmer and Marvel were crowd favourites, flashy and luxurious, but not as cutthroat as Cato and Clove. A part of you even rooted for them. Maybe tradition would be broken, you thought, maybe it’d go to that kid from 11. Thresh had the determination and resilience to win.
That’s why you were surprised when you turned on the TV to see Peeta and Katniss as the last ones standing.
One of us has to die; they have to have their victor.
No. They don’t.
You were even more surprised when they both walked out of that arena alive.
Peeta became Panem’s golden boy, and he knew exactly what strings to pull, as if he’d been doing this his whole life. Katniss, on the other hand, was not a performer, not the performer you knew Snow wanted her to be. You could tell she was angry, but being angry was not her job.
You knew this because it wasn’t yours, either.
People like you and her didn’t get to be angry. You were supposed to be grateful for the opportunity that the Capitol so generously bestowed upon you, not angry or sad or guilty. That wasn’t for you.
You saw so much of yourself in her. And for that reason, you thought you’d never meet her. Too rebellious, too jagged, too questioning–she was nothing that Snow wanted around the Princess. You were right; you didn’t meet her.
Until the time came for the 75th Hunger Games.
You were surprised when she was the one who came up to you. She was confident and put-together, but you knew better. This was your dance she was dancing. You could hear the lyrics so well.
She was scared.
And she was angry.
Her attitude made you like her. You could’ve been friends, you noted, but not in this lifetime, not when she was meant to be your opponent. You never thought that you and Katniss Everdeen would be friends.
Little did you know, she’d become one of the only friends you had.
“C’mon, Everdeen. You’re going easy on me,” you said, holding your arms out. Katniss stood opposite to you, lightly panting with her hands held up.
“I’m just- I’m just tired-”
“No, you’re not. You’re going easy,” you deadpanned. “Stop stalling and hit me.”
The brunette hesitated for a moment before going in for a punch that you easily caught. “You call that a punch? Where’s that Mockingjay fire?”
She scoffed, yanking her fist out of your grasp. “I’m not going to hit you, Y/N. You were just shot-”
“Well, the revolution doesn’t care if I’m shot or not.” You gestured to your body. “I’m perfectly fine. So hit me like you mean it.”
“No-”
“Hit me like I’m Snow.”
She scoffed again. “This is ridiculous. I’m not going to hit you. You’ve barely healed-”
You cut her off. “Fine. If you won’t, then I will.” Without another word, you threw a sharp punch for her face that she narrowly dodged. You didn’t miss a beat, throwing another one right after, and another one right after that like rapid fire.
She blocked your hits, but your pace didn’t alter. The two of you moved around the ring, but Katniss' hands remained in front of her face, not once swinging. You weren’t relenting; you weren’t gonna stop until she swung back.
You had almost backed her into the corner when, suddenly, the wind was knocked out of you and your back was hitting the ground. The world spun. You blinked and you were back in the arena, lying on the ground with Johanna hovering over you. You opened them and you were back in the training room, and now it was Katniss that hovered.
“Holy shit, Y/N, are you okay?” Her eyes were worried and her voice was panicked. Holy shit, she actually hit me. With that realization, a smile slowly formed on your face. “What? Why are you smiling-”
She was abruptly cut off as you swept her feet out from under her, sending her to the ground right next to you. She groaned while you laughed, almost hysterical.
If the old you could’ve seen you now. You never thought you’d be friends with Katniss Everdeen, much less that you’d be laughing with her after she kicked you.
“It’s not that funny,” she heaved, but you didn’t stop, uncontrollably giggling.
“You- you actually did it-” you cackled, tears in your eyes. She looked over at you, still panting, until you made eye contact and she was laughing, too.
You stayed there on the floor together for a while, laughing your hearts out. For all you knew, you wouldn’t get many moments like this for a while, moments where you could just lie down and rest. For all you knew, this revolution would kill you.
So there you were, the Princess and The Mockingjay, pretending that you were just Y/N, and she was just Katniss.
And for now, that made you forget about everything else.
“Please. Please, I’m begging you- please don’t do it again.” Your shoulders shook with sobs, vision blurred.
“Ah, you know that that is not how the game works, my dear.”
“Please- please, I don’t want to play anymore.”
Snow tutted. “You know the rules. You give me something, and you get something in return. If you do not give me anything, then I will take something.”
“Please, I don’t- I don’t have anything more to give-”
He sighed. “Is that so?” He didn’t give you time to say anything else. “In that case, I won’t take from you.”
You blinked the tears in your eyes away to look up at him, a chill going down your spine at his expression. He didn’t look angry. No, he was smiling. “W-what?”
He hummed. “I’ll take from Peeta.” Your heart dropped. You pulled at your restraints as he turned to leave the room.
“No, please! Please, stop! Stop!” He ignored you, walking out the door and letting the door slide closed behind him.
And then the room went black.
You shot up out of bed panting, heart racing with your eyes darting around the room. The walls were grey, but there was a window. There wasn’t a window where you were in the tribute centre. Moonlight shone into the room. There was light. There weren’t Peacekeepers waiting by your bed, waking you up when you fell asleep. You were alone. You were safe. It’s okay. You’re in 13. You’re alive.
You’re alive.
Somehow, that didn’t make it any better.
You breathed in and out slowly, trying to regain control of your breathing like how Dr. Terren showed you. When you were rescued, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t be consoled. This feeling that you felt right now was like that, but you don’t know if any panic attack could ever compare to that one.
You were rescued. But it didn’t feel that way.
It didn’t feel that way at all.
Once you calmed down or reached some semblance of feeling calm, your mind went right back to Peeta. You hadn’t been to see him since you first arrived in 13–and even then, you didn’t speak. He wasn’t really in a condition to be spoken to. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. But there was more to it than that.
There was always more to it than what you were willing to acknowledge.
As if your body was moving on its own accord, you threw your bed sheets to the side, slipping on a sweater and sliding your feet into the slippers next to your bed. Walking out of the room, you didn’t spare the clock a glance, walking with a subtle determination that many wouldn’t understand.
You called it a victor’s drive. It was a certain determination that came with fighting for your life, even if it meant taking another’s. It was not wanting to kill, but doing it anyway. It was not wanting to live, but doing that, too.
There were many things a victor did not want to do.
And there were just as many things that you’d do, anyway.
A part of you didn’t know where you were going while the other part was sure of herself. Regardless, you let your body take you to where your mind didn’t want to go, making your way through the dark hallways with no sound other than your feet heard.
Before you knew it, you stood in front of the glass wall that you hadn’t seen since you first got to 13. On the other side lied Peeta, looking no better than the last time you saw him. His screams echoed throughout your brain.
Please! Stop! No-
You screwed your eyes shut, trying to block out the noise that surrounded you even in such silence. His screams quieted after a few seconds, but no matter your resilience or techniques the doctor taught you, no matter what, you’d never be able to silence your song.
There was a time when you almost believed that you could escape it, the music. When Finnick and you were pretending, it felt like you could really have it, a family, like one day it would be more than pretending. But now you knew that wasn’t possible.
This song would never skip.
And you’d be dancing until the day you died.
When you opened your eyes, you were met with blue ones staring back at you, as if he knew you were there. You took in a sharp breath, scared, but maintained your stare. His hair looked shorter and more unkept than you’d ever seen it. It wasn’t so gold anymore.
Peeta’s eyes were blue, but not blue like Finnick’s. They were bright like the sky and full of a childlike innocence that you no longer saw. His eyes weren’t so bright anymore.
He looked like a ghost.
And maybe that’s what you looked like, too.
Without thinking, you went for the door, pulling the handle only for it to remain still. You furrowed your brows, trying again with the same outcome. That’s when you saw the pin pad on the side and realized that it was locked.
Of course, it was. They weren’t gonna leave Peeta Mellark in a room by himself with the door unlocked. Not this Peeta.
This Peeta had to be strapped down to the bed because his one and only objective was to kill the woman he loved. This Peeta wasn’t the same Peeta you met at the parade.
This wasn’t him at all.
With that realization, you turned around, letting his eyes burn into your skull as you walked away. You weren’t sure of anything, but what you were sure of was that you couldn’t be alone right now. If you listened to the music by yourself right now, you didn’t know what you’d do.
Your feet pitter-pattered against the floor in quick motions. You didn’t know where you were going, just that you needed to find Johanna. If you couldn’t talk to Peeta, then you needed to talk to her.
Suddenly, you turned a corner and went tumbling to the ground. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the fall, but it never came. Slowly, you opened them and the first thing you saw were another set of blue eyes, not bright or vibrant, but your favourite colour.
Finnick.
Your heart sped up. Suddenly, you could feel that the hands on your arms were his. Suddenly, you realized you were in Finnick Odair’s arms.
You think he only just realized that, too.
He cleared his throat, helping you up and letting you go. As soon as his hands were no longer on your skin, you felt cold. You felt just as cold as when the two of you were in the Capitol, standing outside together.
Except, now, you couldn’t hold each other like you did then.
Even if it was the one thing you wanted more than anything in the world.
Your breath got caught in your throat as you realized just how close he was. He was right there, in front of you.
You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.
Right here.
And not at all at the same time.
He looked at you quietly, not saying a word, but after so long, you’d learned to read Finnick well. He looked like he had so much to say but couldn’t find the words to put them in. He looked like how he looked that night, that night that you were in the Capitol and that poor boy and girl died, that night that you kissed for the first time.
But as you looked at him, really looked at him, he also looked nothing like the Finnick you knew. You’d avoided looking into his eyes ever since you got to 13, in fear of what you’d see, and now that you finally were, you could see that his eyes weren’t so lively anymore. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Could you ever?
“What are you-” he cleared his throat again, “What are you doing up?”
At his question, you diverted your eyes, suddenly finding the floors much more interesting to look at. “I, um, I couldn’t sleep,” you reasoned. You didn’t explain why.
“Yeah, neither could I,” he muttered back, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t explain, either.
There was a time when you’d seek him out if you couldn’t sleep, a time when you’d go to him if you had a nightmare. That wasn’t possible anymore.
If you danced with him, you didn’t know if he’d be enough to keep you from collapsing.
If you danced with him, you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to keep going.
After a beat of silence, you spoke, “I should, um… I should get going now.”
You moved to leave, but Finnick grabbing onto your wrist stopped you. You masked your flinch, not because someone was touching you anymore, but because of who that person was. Your skin ignited so hot that it burned.
“Wait, can-” he hesitated, “can we talk?”
Your breath hitched, back still turned to him. His voice was pleading, a tone you never would’ve imagined him taking when you first met. You closed your eyes at the memory, feeling tears gather.
You wanted to say yes—oh, you always wanted to say yes to Finnick. His happiness became the only thing you strived for. You stayed with him even when you knew he loved Annie, you fought for her, you volunteered for her, you pretended you were okay, you pretended you didn’t love him, you pretended all the time.
But you couldn’t pretend anymore.
A nation was counting on you. People were counting on you. People needed you.
You couldn’t fall apart right now. And if you talked to Finnick, you weren’t sure you’d be able to put yourself back together again.
“I-” your voice cracked, “I can’t-”
“Please. Please, Y/N, I just need to talk to you.” You shook your head, holding in the sobs that were begging to escape.
Why was he doing this to you? Why, why, why, why, why, why-
“Please.”
Y/N, please. I’m just asking you to trust me. Please just trust me.
Trust you to do what?
I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please. Trust me.
I trust you.
You would die for this man. You died for this man. And if it came down to it, you’d die again if it meant that he’d get to live in a better world. But you couldn’t talk to him now.
If you talked to him, then it didn’t matter what the Capitol would throw at you, what bullets you’d take. Those eyes would drown you.
You couldn’t do this. Not now.
“No.” You removed your hand from his grasp and walked away as fast as you could, even as your feet felt anchored to the ground, each step hurting more and more. You didn’t turn back once.
The tears that you held in fell as you walked away, running down your face like a waterfall. You walked faster and faster until your walk escalated into a run. The door to your room slid open before you ran in, locking it as it closed. You slid down the metal and let out a sob, more and more following it.
Your hands went over your ears, trying to block out the music, but it only got louder and louder.
No, no, nothing is okay!
We will never be free, Y/N.
Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Hunger Games.
Mom?
President Snow used to sell me.
We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear.
May the odds be ever in your favour, darling.
You screamed in agony, nearly ripping your hair out, uncaring if anyone heard you. Your body shook with sobs and your heart ached. It hurt so bad. You never thought it could hurt this bad.
You didn’t wanna dance anymore. You didn’t wanna feel like this anymore. You didn’t wanna feel anymore at all if this was all it’d feel like.
But it didn’t matter. How you felt didn’t matter. What you wanted didn’t matter. It stopped mattering the second you won those Games, the second you stabbed that boy. You stopped being a person and became the person Snow wanted you to be. You became the Princess.
And now it was your job to make sure there wouldn’t ever be another Princess, another you, another Finnick, another Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Haymitch, Annie, Bay—it was your job to make sure this never happened to anyone again, that there would never be another group of kids that were forced to kill each other and themselves in the process. It was your job to make sure nobody else ever felt how you felt right now.
As you reminded yourself of that, your sobs gradually subsided and your heart rate came down. You weren’t okay.
But you had to be. You still had things to do- dancing to do.
You were gonna dance one last time, for this country, for all the kids that died, for the kids you were, for the kids you could’ve had, for yourself, and for the man that you loved. You were gonna dance until you couldn’t anymore. You were gonna dance until the music stopped. And amidst all the unknown, one thing was certain.
The day the music died, so would you.
It’s the things we love most, that destroy us.
Taglist: @avoxrising @mxacegrey @littleshadow17 @lovelyteenagebeard @nasyanastya @catastrxblues @zodiyack @zulpix-blog @mushroomelephant @muggies @lantsovheiress @hobiebrowns-wife @notplutos @faeriepigeons @hnslchw @unholyhuntress @aclmagic @gloryekaterina @ayme301 @lem0ns77 @kisskittenn @onlyangel-444 @moonagedaydream505 @spderm4nnnn @satellitespeirs @glitzcute @iammirrorball @corpsebasil @forever-sleepy-sloth @omwtkydttfym @divinelovers @maggiecc @i-am-a-simp1 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @nelliereadsstuff @how2besalty @dreaminglandsworld @eilaharmonia @catvader101 @lexa138 @h0neylemon @dakotali @hermionelove @theseerbetweenus @whosscruffylooking @yourdailymemedelivery @emma-andrea1 @s1lngwns @meenyminymoes-blog @roxi-reid @rattertatter @sunnybunnyy2 @just-levyy @amaranth-writing @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @joshhutchersonisdaddy @my-name-is-baby @hehehe13356 @quazsz @chloecharms23 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thehairington86 @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @ment1tavoid @hereliesme @tayrae515 @mottergirl99 @blackdxggr @giverosespls @erindiggory @feyretopia @bibliosaurous @sleila @soursonnets
#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair#thg#i love finnick odair#the hunger games#finnick imagine#free palestine#free gaza#talking ab what's happening in palestine doesn't necessarily have to do w this post but it's happening so we should talk about it regardles#thg fanfiction#thg fandom#the hunger games trilogy#finnick angst#catching fire#mockingjay#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#thg fanfic#quarter quell#the hanging tree#angst#angsty imagine#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#katniss and peeta#everlark#johanna mason#the golden alliance#odesta#annie cresta
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You saw my post, you saw how I’m obsessed with Bee there’s literally no way of hiding it
Headcanons with bee with a gn or fem reader (whichever you want) who’s sick? Idk if transformers can get sick or not but uuuuuhhh let’s just pretend!
If this isn’t getting your creative juices flowing up there then no worries! Don’t feel pressured to write it!
Pairing: B-127/Bee x gn!sick!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Getting sick isn't a breeze, but with your honeybee beside you it's easy. A/N: More Bee content because a certain someone is a simp/j Warnings/Tags: Cybertronian reader, sick!reader, brief mentions of vomiting and general stuff involving sickness, happens after the movie, fluff. Word Count: 850+ words
Feeling iffy
🐝 For some reason, you've been feeling off ever since you got a cog
🐝 You worked in lower levels with your conjunx and eating enough energon to be half full was a rarity.
🐝 Now with Iacon entering a new era, having a cog and having a conjunx 'working for the government' as he put it, you had all the energon you could ever want.
🐝 Of course, you weren't scarfing down on it, but it was definitely an improvement than before you left the mines.
🐝 Your symptoms ranged from overheating, sneezing, to even feeling nauseous to the point you couldn't walk straight. You couldn't even keep down the energon you'd consume in normal amounts.
🐝 One thing was for sure, something was wrong.
Finding out
🐝 You figured trying to deal with the issue by yourself before Bee found out would work.
🐝It didn't.
🐝 Bee could tell something was wrong with you after a few cycles of your symptoms persisting.
🐝 He cornered you in your shared home and that's when he found out you were sick.
🐝 Of course he was upset that you didn't tell him, but more so upset at the fact you were still trying to do daily tasks (whether that was doing your job or helping Elita-1 and Optimus along with him) despite being sick.
Taking care of you
🐝 He had to physically drag you to a med-bay to get checked out
🐝 Turns out your condition wasn't too serious, but you needed to get some rest so your body could get used to the fast transitions of having a cog + surplus of energon.
🐝 Bee heard 'rest' and ran with it.
🐝 He plucked you up from where you sat and carried you out in his arms while yelling about getting you to bed quick. To say you were as blue as, well, energon was an understatement.
🐝 Now in your shared berth, Bee has taken over the role of being your nurse.
🐝 He servo feeds you, refuses to let you lift a single digit, and even began reading berthtime stories or what he and Optimus done for the day to get you to fall asleep faster (we all know how much he loves to talk).
🐝 He could drone on for a longggg time and when you'd eventually drift off into recharge, he'll kiss your helm before he'd leave to give you the time to rest. Sometimes you held on too tight to his servo and he couldn't leave, comm'ing Optimus that his conjunx refused to let him go was a...interesting conversation.
🐝 As much as you appreciated his efforts, you had to remind him you could still function by yourself.
🐝 He looked confused.
🐝 You offered to get out of the berth and moved to get up, but Bee coaxed you to lay back.
🐝 You gave him a look.
🐝 He returned it with his own smirk and a "...don't you dare."
🐝 You jumped off of the berth and ran off laughing with Bee yelling behind you who gave chase.
What he does to comfort you
🐝 When Bee is away and not there to 'tend' to you, it gives you a breather to do what you want, but still the symptoms make it harder to find enjoyment in anything
🐝 You could be enjoying a nice energon cube, hurling it back up again until you're pissed and exhausted.
🐝 When Bee comes back to seeing you in this state, he'll help you back to the berth and cuddle you for the rest of the time he's free.
🐝 Expect to be sung to and him using cheesy nicknames (my sweetest of sparks, energon of my optic, the light of my spark, andddd you get the picture).
🐝🐝🐝Drabble🐝🐝🐝
Your optics fluttered open and the first thing you noticed was a pede in your face. You blinked back the drowsiness and reeled your helm back. Lifting your gaze you noticed the haphazard position your conjunx was in, sleeping next to you while the upper half of his frame hung off of the edge of the berth.
You held back a giggle and used one digit to push the bottom of his pede away. Bee's snoring paused as he abruptly woke up and screamed as he fell off of the berth.
"Huh?! Wha-?" Bee looked up to see your laughing face peeking from the berth. "Ha ha, you think you're very funny, huh?"
"Oh, I know I am," You coyly retorted as you watched him rise to stand on his knees. He leaned close and stared into your optics, you raised an optic ridge wondering what he was going to do until he lowered his gaze to your dermas.
"Ah, ah," You moved your helm to the side as he attempted to swoop in. "Not until I'm better."
"I know," Bee pouted as he reached over to cup the side of your face. "Can't blame a mech for trying."
"You're adorable and stupid at the same time."
"Hey!"
"You're my adorable and stupid mech."
"Now that's more like it….wait."
😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. like my writing? consider buying me a kofi :)
honeycomb banner(s) by @thecutestgrotto!!
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Rare Things to find in someone's birth chart 🪷
• Rare Patterns find in the chart
- The finger of Yod
- The pentagram
- Cradle
• The GREAT conjunction
- The great conjunction happens only if there are 5 planets aspecting eachother in the same sign
🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷
• Aspects:
- Pluto - Saturn conjunction = Again is very hard to find such big generational planets in the same sign and conjunct eachother esp since Pluto stays like an entire generation in one sign (At the moment Pluto is in Aquarius/Transitioning in Capricorn while Saturn is in Pisces)
- Saturn - Neptune conjunction = Very rarely it happens for 2 generational planets to be in the same sign and conjunct eachother (BUTTT we are so lucky to have this NOW since Saturn and Neptune are BOTH in Pisces during our times 😭❤️)
- Jupiter - Saturn conjunction = Although this aspect has more chances to happen more often than the other 2 this aspect is also considering as very lucky to have in a chart
🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷❤️🪷
• Facts:
- Asteroid Eris entered in Aries in 1926 and it will exit in 2048 moving into Taurus ( People born after 2048 will have Eris in Taurus = more issues with money and currencies)
- Saturn Return can happen 3 times in your life, it mostly happens 1st time at the age of 27 - 31 yr old, 2nd time at 56 - 60 yr old, and the last and 3rd time it will happen at 84- 90 yr old. Imagine living all 3 RETURNS it's giving POWER VIBES.
- Every 27 - 29 years Saturn Returns to the degree and the sign it was when you were born. Y'all have no idea how impactful and majestic this moment is
- Pluto will be again in Aries in 2068. The last time Pluto was in Aries was in 1822 - 1853. Again this is another majestic thing to happen in our world, just wait until we reach 2060 guys then wait 8 years more and we finally did it!!
- Neptune in Aquarius Generation is most likely the last subconscious connected generation that will last, Neptune won't be in Aquarius again in a longggg time
- Chiron will be in Aries until 2027 - only 4 years from now, in these times people will be fighting more and will deal more with conflicts and aggression - these things need to be healed
- Harmmonix
#astrology#astro observations#birth chart#astro fyp#fyp tumblr#astrology fyp#astrology observations#astro notes#placements#astro community#horoscope#zodiac#rare Things#rare#aesthetic#facts about astrology#planets#astronomy#asteroid#asteroids#constellations#generational#generation#last generation
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Nivi I am so glad that you are back and talking about basketball 😭😭 I am seeing so many “Passive Paige” posts on Twitter and even on here, and I’m like we cannot be doing this every fucking game… like do people not understand team basketball. And literally our issue last year was running Paige to the fucking ground. Why do that this year when we have the luxury of PLAYERS for the first time in a longggg time?
I just find the Passive Paige argument in general to be a little overexaggerated. There were exactly three games last year where you could accuse Paige of being truly passive. The Texas game, the Notre Dame game, and the last one which unfortunately just happened to be the most important game of the season, was Iowa. I don't excuse her performance in any of those games and I'm sure neither does she, but it really doesn't warrant the amount of criticism that has been heaped on her.
Like last year, this girl game back from a terrible injury and got the weight of the whole world put on her.
She absolutely should not have that weight on her every game this year. Did y'all see her smile at half time? I don't think I saw Paige smile like that once last year.
But beyond that, y'all are not listening to these press conferences. The team needs to learn to play without Paige as well. It's a big issue that Geno keeps on harping on. Her forcing a takeover when they're up 50 on a mediocre team just to statpad helps absolutely no one. It tires her out and it takes away her teammates opportunities to be better.
That being said, there was exactly one point in the game where I was annoyed at Paige and it was in the 3rd quarter drought when she passed up a shot because Sarah was heating up. That can't happen in a big game but until it does, I'm going to choose to believe in what Paige has said.
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profiles (1): the dancers⚡️
JENO: kind of an asshole but its because he has trust issues and is closed off. outside of the studio he’s treated like the family dog by his friends. a certified socially awkward mess. works at the local movie theater. lives off campus with jaemin and mark. psychology major.
JAEMIN: neo universities resident sweetheart. joined the dance club because jeno didn’t want to do it alone but now he actually enjoys it. very popular and uses his good looks to charm the boba shop workers into giving him free drinks. lives off campus with jeno and mark. media major.
JISUNG: a little mean looking but is actually just an extremely introverted baby. dance club founder. gets weird looks when he’s with mark or chenle because no one gets their friendship. dorms with chenle but can be found at the dance studio. works at the movie theater with jeno. psychology major.
MARK: sociable cutie. works at a bookstore off campus. chronically online and is the only reason the dance club is updated with trends. loud and embarrasses his friends kinda often but they love him. lives off campus with jeno and jaemin. psychology major.
CHENLE: extremely loud soccer mom energy. forces the rest of his dance club members to make tiktoks with him. dorms with jisung. currently not active in the dance club because he’s failing chem:/ bio med major.
JENO’S PRIV: the only place he doesn’t have to be cool and mysterious. where most of his friends go if they think somethings wrong because instead of talking about his feelings, he tweets.
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・ Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) ・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
profiles (2): the “nerds”🌟
masterlistΣ(-᷅_-᷄๑)
TAGLIST: @sunghoonsgfreal @jenohyun @n0hyuck @tywritesstuff @dinonuguaegi
NOTES: i’m so excited to start this…not even joking its been an idea LONGGGG before divine timing even existed in my brain…
#nct dream#nct 127#haechan#mark lee#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 imagines#nct dream imagines#nct imagines#nct 127 smut#nct fluff#nct au#nct x reader#nct dream social media au#nct dream fluff#nct dream au#nct dream smut#jeno#jaemin#winter#renjun#chenle#park jisung#kpop#nct#nct scenarios#nct u#kpop social media au#nct 127 social media au#nct fanfic#nct smau
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*clears throat.*
(apologize in advance for any mistakes english isn't my first language)
Alright. Here we go.
Look, I haven't watched MLP in a LONGGGG time. But recently with all the stuff I missed our and since the fandom is still pretty much alive and well I decided to take peek by peek in the seasons I haven't watched.
Until I came across, these guys
And I have so much to say.
I didn't write a script for this or anything so I don't know where this rambling is going so I just ask you to bear with me for as much as you can, okay?
Look, watching the Young Six episodes I've experienced one of the things that angers me the most. SUCH. WASTED. POTENTIAL.
You're telling me we got whatever the hell is G5 when instead we could have gotten THESE GUYS???? THESE COOL, UNIQUE CHARACTERS THAT ACTUALLY HAVE AN INTERESTING STORY THAT MAKES SENSE AND HAVE SI MUCH POTENTIAL TO BE ONE OF THE SICKEST LORE ARCS IN MLP???
I homestly don't know what Hasbro WAS THINKING in giving them so little screentime. There's so much I have to say but I'll try my best to keep my thoughts organized.
First things first, we'll need to talk a little about G5 or "Make Your Mark" series or whatever. I personally enjoyed the movie, though the story didn't make much sense (we'll get to that later) the characters were pretty nice, the songs were catchy and the animation was mwah. I didn't bother to watch all of the G5 series, because- (pardon to all who enjoy it) it's so. Freaking. Boring. Like I know there's a pony girl that's supposed to be a traitor among them but then grows onto being their actual friend and there's a villainess and that whole conflict and yada yada yada. But honestly there just isn't anything I found enganging in the entire thing. I can't explain it, it just feels- off. I know I probably don't have much right to talk, cause again, only now I'm diving into the mlp again after missing out A LOT, but I just can't bring myself to like that series.
Now, the whole School Of Friendship saga in the G4 series with our beloved Young Six, I know some people had some issues with it and it didn't please everyone, and while it does have some flaws and is certainly not perfect, you can't deny there was lots of potential. (I'll try to not overuse that word I'm sorry)
I personally, really liked the concept of different creatures from different cultures coming together and forming the perfectly diverse friend group. Episodes like The Hearth's Warming Club and What Lies Beneath were particuarly really fun, it was nice to dive into their cultures and backstories while also watching the six of them be vulnerable in front of one another and grow closer. If only they had more screentime and more deep episodes like that, they could have been in the top 10 found families in cartoons.
Now, just some other reasons as to why I think they're interesting characters and should've gotten more than what was given to them.
Because
1- Their whole deal is that they're not all ponies, that they're all different species. We get to learn lots about their different cultures and customs. It would've been such a good way to teach children about acceptance and respecting differences while also being entertaining. Especially in a school enviroment.
2- We got not one, but TWO male characters in the group. It would make little boys that are interested in mlp feel more comfortable and valid for it. AND those two males also have distinct personalities and their own active roles. Gallus being sort of the leader of the group, and Sandbar being the only pony therefore the one to stand up for his friends.
3- While they're supposed to be the new represantives of the elements of harmonies, their personalities are still interesting and different from the Mane 6.
Onto that, I really like how it's implied they could be the next helders (or whatever its called) of the elements of harmony. Given their special connection to the tree, how similiar they are to the previous groups (Mane 6 and The Pillars) and how Twilight LITERALLY LIFTED THEM UP AS WELL WHILE SHE SPOKE ABOUT HOW THE ELEMENTS WILL LIVE ON, it would've been such a cool concept.
Onto that, I wanna talk a bit about each of their characters too and how I think they could've been dealt with.
Gallus is the element of magic, but unlike Twilight who's all open and confident-spoken about friendship and all, Gallus is probably the one in the group that's the most closed-off and dislikes getting all cheesy. It would've been interesting seeing his development as the helder ot the element of magic. AND ESPECIALLY since he doesn't have magic in the first place, since Twilight and Starwirl were unicorns. So maybe he could make posions? Get powers someway else? Many posibilities
Sandbar is the element of kindness, but unlike Fluttershy he's extrovert and down to making friends. His overrall personality is that he's constantly very chill-going and nothing seems to ever upset or annoy him. So it also would've been interesting to see how that pattern would break, especially because of his element.
Yona is the element of honesty. She's probably the one that has the hardest time adapting to the Equestrians among the group, and even tried to act like a pony instead of herself one episode. It would've been interesting to see how her element of honesty reflects on how she should be true to herself, especially since her Yak culture comes a lot with honor.
Ocellus is the element of genority, yet, unlike Rarity, she's a lot more like Fluttershy, being timid and insecure, while also being smart and well-read like Twilight. It would've been nice if her development with her element would be gaining confidence in herself and being generous to others that way. Especially since she has a fear of being like the old changling queen (forgot her name) so imagine if she just turned out to be the opposite of her. Instead of selfish and cruel, being generous and kind.
Smolder is the element of loyality, but also like Gallus, she's also not into getting cheesy. But what I find imteresting about her is how she tries to keep her tough, agressive persona (since thats how dragons are) yet it is revealed she's actually interested in cute, fluffy stuff like tea parties and dresses. So it would've been cool to see her growing confident in admiting her interests, therefore being more like Rainbow Dash, who's always confident on herself
And last but not least, Silverstream is the element of laughter. But what's hooking about it is the fact that Silverstream herself probably hasn't KNOWN what laughter is for a long time, having to hide under The Storm King's rule. She's very talkctive, creative and extrovert, like Pinkie Pie, but she also has her trauma that haunts and intimidates her, unlike Pinkie who usually faces her fears headfront. Another great development story.
So just hear me out, okay. I don't care if MLP is over. I don't care if there's G5.
We. Need. A. Young. Six. Spin-off. Series.
I know it sounds crazy, but I genuely think this idea could work out if it was handled well enough, and Hasbro could make some good money out of this.
Just bear with me. A spin-off series set on the timeline between season 8-9 aka, still on the School Of Friendship, focused entirely on the Young Six. We could still get the Mane 6, of course, but mostly as support characters. It doesn't have to be a particularly long series, (though maybe that could work as well IF handled with enough care) maybe just 2 seasons or so. And I'm not thinking like a slice-of-life or fun little extra kind of thing, I'm thinking of ACTUAL lore. Just more about how the tree and the elements work, and how these six students could grow into being their new helders. In each episode it becomes more and more evident to them and the Mane 6 themselves that they're going to be the next generation of the elements. So imagine once they all fully it figure out and talk about it, the Y6 suddenly feel this pressure about how they're supposed to live up to their teachers and fear that they have to be EXACTLY like them. So we see Sandbar taking extra kindness classes with Fluttershy, Yona taking extra honesty classes with Applejack and heck even Gallus is taking studies more seriously (especially since he's supposed to be the element of magic which again I find imteresting since he doesn't really have magic at least not the way Twilight and Starwirl do. ) So we could have an entire episode about the M6 getting through to them and showing they don't have to be JUST LIKE THEM nor The Pillars. They can be their own people.
Another main-plot idea would be having more villains, probably trying to test them or tear them apart (cough cough like Swift Foot from the idw comics cough cough) or maybe you could even fit someone as intense as King Sombra, or maybe even even the return of Tirek, Cozy Glow and Chrysalis in there. (I remembered her name yay)
And, of course, more onto their characters, flaws, backstories and cultures! I would love to see more about their people and customs, just as much as I would love to explore their traumas, fears, ugly sides and how they overcome it together (cough cough found family COUGH COUGH GAGS)
And another thing, I especially would've liked to explore Yona's and Sandbar's relantioship.
I MEAN LOOK AT THEM-
Don't they give massive beauty-and-the-beast vibes? I love how their colors and body types contrast with one and another, and their personalities aswell. Yona being loud, cheerful and clumsy while Sandbar is calm, thoughtful and carefree. I just love the big girl x soooorta small guy vibes and I especially loved how gentle and reassuring Sandbar was towards her in that episode. I mean, "I don't care if you're not a pony, you're the best Yona I know." SERIOUSLY? WHO WROTE THAT LINE? I'D LIKE TO GIVE THEM A HUG. And also, onto the spin-off series matter, it would also be a cool topic to explore. Imagine if some ponies/yaks are judging them for having a relantioship while being different species and they learn to ignore them and live past that??? I usually don't care much for romance, (always prefered friendship and found families) but this would've been a nice little arc and episode theme to see.
Lastly, (I'm almost done I promise) to the more technical/economical part.
Like I said in the beggining, I genuely think Hasbro could make some good money out of this. Firstly because it will be using the G4 characters and lore and not...whatever mess of a plot G5 is.
And secondly because, if they took the time to give them some cool power-up designs like they did with the Mane 6, I'M SURE the toys would sell.
I mean- JUST LOOK AT THESE COOL DESIGNS I FOUND ON THE INTERNET?? (not mine, credits to whoever made it, you ate that)
DON'T THEY LOOK LIKE A TOY SET THAT WOULD CATCH THE CHILDREN'S EYES ON THE TOY AISLE? OH YES I THINK THEY WOULD.
And if anything, they could be as bold as to make an extra Equestria Girls (well, girls and boys) series with them. I know it sounds kinda dumb, especially given the fact that I'm not sure about how that would work given that when Spike went to the "human dimension" or whatever he turned to a dog... So Smolder would also be a dog? Sandbar would be the only actual human in the group?... BUT I'm sure they could come up with some excuse to make it work. Give them some cool, colorful outfits for different events and I'm sure it would sell. And ESPECIALLY since with Gallus and Sandbar in the group, it could get the attetion of young boys aswell.
Anyways. That was it.
Uhm. Conclusion: Hasbro should hire me. I know what I'm talking about. I think. At least a bit.
And I genuely think this could work if only SOMEONE gave it the time and care.
I don't know how to end ramblings so uhmmmm thank you all for coming to my pep talk.
They deserved better.
#my little pony#my little pony ramblings#ramblings#young six#student six#gallus#sandbar#yona the yak#ocellus#silverstream#smolder#they deserved better#my little pony g4#my little pony g5#my little pony analysis#thoughts#idk what other tags to add
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replying to this post bc it was filled with so much stupid stuff that i just. have to debunk it! links to the articles below!
TL;DR: these links are mostly just sensationalized media, top 10 lists, or opinion pieces, and antis are dumb <3 sorry for the LONGGGG post, i just couldn't help myself
I would like to preface, though, that just because these people were deeply mentally disturbed, does not mean that every mentally ill/schizophrenic/psychopath/sociopath/whatever is a murderer, or even a bad person. In a lot of these cases, the system/their parents/their friends failed these people, and it sucks.
Teen Kills Brother, Loves TV Show 'Dexter': Life Imitating Art?
For context, Anthony Conley, 17, killed his 10 yr old brother Conner. He was sentenced to life in prison, without parole.
If you look into the case itself (or even just READ THE ARTICLE ABOVE), Conley had said to the police that he'd been fantasizing about killing people since eighth grade, and that he heard voices. Three experts examined him and said he was *severely* mentally ill, and a fourth who didn't interview him believe he showed signs of being a psychopath. This is a clear-cut case of someone who was not mentally stable having access to material that furthered those thoughts, but Dexter did not cause his actions.
"The Dexter Killer:" Inside the mind of a murderer
Context - Mark Twitchell, an aspiring filmmaker, catfished a man, directing him to his garage that he had decked out with plastic coverings a la Dexter, and killed him. He later attempted to do this to another man, but that one escaped. He was sentenced to life in prison, with possibility of parole after 25 years.
Twitchell himself would describe himself as a psychopath. He cheated on his wife, would cheat people for money, was a pathological liar, and said he had a lack of empathy. He'd also written a screenplay for a film he intended to make, in the hopes it would "prevent him from killing". He also said himself that Dexter did not CAUSE the killing, but I can't deny he might've gotten some ideas from the show (the catfishing, the plastic tarps). Still not the fault of Dexter, though, as Twitchell clearly had some issues prior to watching the show.
Korean true crime fan murdered stranger 'out of curiosity'
Context - Jung Yoo-jung, obsessed with true crime, used an app to meet an English-language teacher, and stabbed her to death. She was sentenced to life.
Jung, like the other two, was mentally ill. She was also a loner, a recluse, was unemployed, and lived with her grandpa. She scored high on psychopathy tests, claimed she had hallucinations, and claimed that she had a host of other mental health issues. She'd been researching true crime for months, and spent more months seeking out a victim, contacting over 50 people -mostly women- and decided to kill because of her "morbid curiosity". There's also the alleged "feeling of resentment and anger toward her family", and the fact that the woman she killed was stabbed 100+ times indicates it was more personal for her. "It seems that the background of the accused may have influenced the formation of an abnormal personality," the court said.
Fiction is Reality, As Far As Your Brain is Concerned (You have to make an account to view this one.)
This is nothing. This is an opinion piece from someone who is just a journalist. Honestly, I could make a whole post talking about how biased and just. plain wrong it is. I might.
It starts with the conclusion that the way we differentiate reality from fiction is based on how well it connect with our existing experience, which is true to a degree, but the study they cite does not use that fact in the same way the article does.
The study very clearly defines that (as young as) 5 year olds have no problem differentiating fiction from reality, just that Santa, or the tooth fairy, for example, are more "real" than dragons and the like because they have more experience from seeing them (mall Santas, or money under their pillow), than they do a dragon, which has only been seen on TV or books.
The article, however, takes this to mean that the brain has the ability to rewire itself, or misremember, to convince itself that Santa actually exists. It uses the example that "Frodo is more real than Kim Jong-Un" because we may have more "personal connection" to Frodo, than we do Kim Jong-Un, due to us having seen the movies, or reading the books, and making a connection to the character, but that is totally contradicted in the study above ("Our conceptual knowledge in relation to real people is far more extensive and multifaceted compared to that of fictional entities. For instance, the kind of associations most people have for a fictional character such as Cinderella (evil stepfamily, glass slipper, fairy godmother, the handsome prince, midnight, etc.) are limited to the context of the story in which we learnt about her. In comparison, our associations about a real famous entity such as George Bush is far more wide-ranging (his appearance, his position in the social hierarchy, my personal feelings towards him, my knowledge regarding the feelings of others towards him, his politics, his team, his family, the degree of influence he has on my life, the last time I saw him on TV, etc.).")
This is just a taste of how wrong the article gets it, because the entire thing is hinged upon their incorrect reading of the study that was done. In conclusion, bad article.
Movies That Inspired Real-Life Crimes That Shook The World
This is a list, so I'm gonna go over this quickly.
Leonard Lake was not inspired by The Collector. As a child, long before he read the book, he developed a fascination with pornography, photographed his sister nude (which his grandmother encouraged), allegedly killed mice and dissolved them in chemicals, and was later discharged from the Marines due to mental issues.
I can't find the specific cases this one's linked to (1971-1973, so it's old), but I will say that copycat crimes are usually done by people with prior records or severe mental problems.
Patricia Frazier had previous mental health issues, had been institutionalized four years prior to the murder, was later found incompetent to stand trial, diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, and was found not guilty by reason of insanity. Again, mental health is the problem here, not The Exorcist.
Mark Branch had been under psychiatric care for several years, with one report saying he'd sought treatment at a psychiatric hospital. He also killed himself after the murder. Did Friday the 13th give him some ideas? Yeah, probably. Was that the movie's fault, and should he have been watching it? No.
Richard Boyer was under the influence of PCP, weed, and alcohol while watching the movie, and on the day of the murder, he ingested PCP, cocaine, and alcohol. I feel it pretty safe to say Halloween II was not the only cause of the murders, and the jury agrees with me. Jake Evans had been planning on killing his mom and sister for a while, saying "I guess this is really selfish to say but, to me, I felt like they were just suffocating me in a way." He said himself that he didn't want anyone thinking Halloween influenced him, either. So I highly doubt it was the movie that caused it.
Daniel Gonzalez was known as a "dark and troubled boy" in school. He had psychological problems, and from the age of 17 he'd received both inpatient and outpatient care, suffered with schizophrenia, and used drugs. He just liked the movie Nightmare on Elm Street, and wore a hockey mask like Jason Vorhees, but that's the only connection there was to those movies. Ultimately, the problem lies on the NHS for not helping him.
Martin Bryant had mental health issues. He killed and tortured animals as a child, would shoot birds for fun, and later set himself on fire. He was assessed and found to be possibly Schizophrenic, with a fascination with fire. He also had a low IQ, and was at a lower intellectual functioning capacity than his peers. He was known to be violent in school, was a nuisance to people around him, firing air rifles at tourists and spitting at visitors. No connection to Child's Play other than he liked quoting the movie sometimes. There's no proof to suggest Jon Venables and Robert Thompson had even watched Child's Play, that is just a theory, and a poor one at that.
Nathaniel White was previously in jail for robbery, then after murdering a 29 year old woman, he was arrested again for abducting a 16 year old girl at knifepoint, and was accused of child abuse by social services about a month before the last 5 slayings. He also enjoyed the attention he got from the press, so chances are he wanted something to make him "stand out", and make a name for himself, so he became "the RoboCop 2 killer".
Sarah Edmondson and Benjamin Darras were not only copycat killers, and known by the cops, AND did drugs, but they were on LSD and watched the movie repeatedly before their murder spree to hype themselves up. They did it for the attention, not because Natural Born Killers told them to. Don't even get me started on Columbine and how NBK had really nothing to do with what was wrong with those boys.
Brian Draper and Torey Adamcik may have said they were inspired by Scream, but it's much more likely they were inspired by Columbine, considering they said they wanted to "outdo" Eric and Dylan, as well as referencing them in their tapes. Again, they wanted fame (and pleasure, with Adamcik saying he was "horny just thinking about it"), which is why they recorded it. They wanted the attention. Not much to do with Scream at all.
With The Matrix, it seems to just be a bunch of people who have a very loose grip on reality to begin with, and that movie just made them lose it further. It was not the cause.
Same thing, different guy. Matthew Tinling was a drug user, and clearly not in his right mind, because he later attacked 2 other people while in prison.
This one's just stupid. Fight clubs didn't come from the movie, it's a gambling thing. Literally not even connected to the movie.
Kim de Gelder said he had nothing to do with the Joker, had depressions as a teenager, and claimed to hear voices in his head. Police investigators and De Gelder's lawyer both have said The Dark Knight was not a motive to his attacks.
The first thing referenced was just a hoax, and a bunch of people getting scared about it, and the second one, Johnathan Cruz, has a record. Robbery, attempted robbery, criminal confinement, kidnapping, intimidation, battery, assault, just to name a few, and was allegedly associated with a gang. The Purge has very little to do with the actual crimes.
Real Life crimes inspired by films and TV shows...
Here we go again...
This is the only one I can find with no criminal or psychiatric history to explain his behaviour. But if I would have to guess.. Copycat killer, attention seeker. Still not the movie's fault it happened, because plenty of other people have watched Scream and haven't killed people!
Not much I can find about this except for his sentence, but again, he might've gotten some ideas from Fight Club, but normal people don't commit arson and bomb buildings just because they watch a movie.
Not much to say about this other than two kids made a prank call and it went bad. Not much to do with Saw, other than them mentioning toxic gas.
Can't find anything about this one, but maybe teach your kid that biting other kids is bad? I don't see how that's the fault of Twilight.
14 year old with unsupervised access to the internet becomes obsessed with serial killers, and has access to weapons. Definitely American Psycho's fault, and not his parents'.
James Holmes' murders had nothing to do with The Dark Knight, other than the fact that he committed his acts during that movie in a theater, and that he maybe sorta liked Batman, but the attorney who prosecuted him said there was no evidence to suggest he was obsessed with Batman, and the psychiatrist that interviewed Holmes said he just picked that movie because it was guaranteed to be full.
Top 10 Real-Life Crimes Inspired By Movies And TV
This one's more of the same.
The Hi-Fi murders were gonna be done either way, they were just looking for a way to do it quietly and cleanly, and they just so happened to settle on the Drano thing from Magnum Force. It was always going to happen, regardless of method. John Hinckley Jr. was obsessed with Jodie Foster, not Taxi Driver, was found not guilty by reason of insanity, and was institutionalized for over three decades. He was not right in the head to begin with.
Japanese man charged with sexual assault used 'radiation inspector' ploy
Can't find much about this, but again, I'd bet a year's wages he'd have still molested those girls, even without that plot from a manga he read. That was just the vehicle he used to commit the crime, but the crime was gonna happen regardless.
Also. It says he carried out as many as 20 similar attacks in the three years before his arrest. If I'm reading this correctly, the radioactivity thing was new, something he'd only recently seen in a manga and used to hurt these girls, and the other 20 attacks were not associated with that manga. If that's the case, then I'm right.
How a birth mark on his leg helped catch this terrifying serial sex attacker
He'd been thinking about this stuff from a very young age, with his awakening being seeing Princess Leia in chains. That is the only connection to fiction with this guy. He's a rapist, why are we trying to give him excuses?
IN CONCLUSION. That anti's post was bad. Like, really bad. Filled with major news sites that like to sensationalize everything, top 10 lists that don't actually do any sort of research into what they're talking about, and an article by someone who can't read a study past the abstract, and my only assumption is that that anti can't read, either.
#and considering that one person apparently trolls thru the proship tag. they're probably going to see this too!#this was hell. i don't get paid enough (or at all) to do this. but that post was so dumb i had to.#proship#profic#proshippers please interact#anti anti#pro ship#pro fic#🏁🎸
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Hi I just needed to tell you that I just came across your poolverine food preferences post and it made me cry (in a good way)! Without trauma dumping in your inbox, I have both Logan and Wade food issues, and so seeing the way that you described them working through their stuff together just really warmed my heart. It made me feel seen and I wanted to make sure you knew that you made some random person on the Internet feel joy today ♥️💛
Hi!
Thank you so much for reaching out, I love hearing about how people relate to my writing. I've had some issues similar to Wade in the past too, it took me a longggg time to graduate from ordering chicken tenders at every restaurant I went to.
I think a lot of people fail to realize that we don't really ask to have these issues. If I could flip a switch and enjoy every food in the world I 100% would, who wouldn't? I find it really frustrating when people frame picky eating as a choice.
Wade and Logan are really special to me because I think everyone wants someone like that. Who understands them no matter what and sees their flaws and preferences and just... accepts them. And cares enough to accommodate them.
I want to make sure you know that you made my day with this ask too ❤️ I'm so glad that this resonated with you and I hope that for all the people with food issues out there, you know that you're loved and seen.
#kitkat#poolverine#deadclaws#deadpool 3#deadpool and wolverine#wade wilson#logan howlett#deadpool movie#wade x logan#wade/logan#asks
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I actually kinda hate hazbin hotel and helluva boss, they're not just cringe, theyre full of genuine issues and lack quality, ignoring anything that vivzie may or may not have done (cause woooooo longggg list apparently, including poor treatment of the people who helped make HB woowwwiee) the shows are just messy, riddled with bigotry and piss poor writing, full of badly written characters (especially the women WHO WOULDA THOUGHT), genuinely awful ways of handling SA and is really weirdly conservative christian in its values especially regarding sex, and I guess its a personal opinion but the character designs are so bland and repetitive, its kinda funny?
I see nothing but love for the show in most circles and I genuinely do not understand why someone would want to sit through them. they're not that fun? You have to completely shut off your brain to enjoy them
IMO
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