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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Twelve (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 3k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The second that you stepped foot off of the hovercraft, all you heard was the distant sound of gunfire. The peacekeeper gave you a bitter reminder of your due date, and then kicked you off the ramp almost instantly after. You waited a moment to make sure that the hovercraft was long gone, and then you went straight for the noise.

You know that they would want you to head straight to your house, which is the exact reason why you chose not to. They probably have something there waiting for you. A note, a bunch of roses, your house being trashed, bloodstains--maybe it’s been set on fire! It doesn’t matter to you all that much.

You’d much rather know what’s going on in the heart of the district, than take a shower and get a change of clothes. Plus, you only have two weeks until your evaluation by Snow, which means you have to act fast. And this is all under the assumption that there won’t be people checking up on you every couple of days.

You came up with a plan on the way here, as any sane person would. The basis of the plan being; you’re not going to follow Snow’s directions in the slightest. You’re not going to calm the people down, you’re going to add fuel to the fire.

Snow threatening to kill Tanith is the last fucking straw. Him threatening to strap you to a chair and torture you like Peeta and Johanna is one thing, but bringing Tanith into this, when she has nothing to do with it, is a whole ‘nother ring of hell. If he thought for one fucking second that he’d get away with a statement like that, he’s wrong.

You’re not going to fuck up your life twice, especially not because of what Snow says or does.

You weigh the necklace in your hand for a second, staring down at it. Then, you unclasp it, and bring it around your neck. Once it’s not tangled in your hair, you let it rest against your chest.

The entire district seems to be barren--at least that’s what you’ve seen on the way. All houses have their doors shut, but windows are broken and porches are in splinters. The shops are basically the same way, though it’s much worse. Some are burnt down, others are void of all things that were once inside.

It looks like a tornado blew through here, and had no mercy. Everything that could have been ruined, is. It’ll cost thousands of dollars to fix the damage done on these places. Buying a whole new house or store would be much easier than to restore what it looked like before.

“Approaching civilian!” Someone yells above you.

Covering your eyes, you look up to see where they are, since this is the first person you’ve come across the entire walk. The second that your eyes adjust, you’re met with a gun pointed at your face.

“Point that away from me!” you snap.

“Who are you, and how did you get back here?” a different voice asks closer to you.

Lowering your hand and whipping your head to where it came from, the situation isn’t much better. There’s a man with an automatic rifle pointed at your chest, finger near the trigger as if he doesn’t know if he should pull it or not. Not to mention all the people behind him hovering, and having the same intentions as him.

You should pick your words carefully.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, victor of the sixty sixth hunger games, tribute of the Quarter Quell.” What a hell of an introduction, “And I walked.”

He lowers the gun a bit, “You’re alive?”

Your first reaction is to scoff, “It’ll take a lot more than the Capitol to kill me, am I supposed to be dead?”

“That’s what we were told.”

“Hell of a shock, then.” you resume walking, “Who’s in charge of District Two’s rebellion? Like, who’s organizing the attacks against the loyalists?”

“Lyme.” A girl answers, “She’s also a victor.”

Lyme… well, you definitely recognize the name, and you can hardly remember what she looks like. Tall, likes to exercise, short blonde hair. She’s always been more modest and rebellious, it doesn’t surprise you that much. She’s older than you, almost twice your age.

“Take me to her.” you tell them.

“You’ve got it.” the boy says.

It’s a long walk, as you’re told. The only good news he had to offer was that you wouldn’t have to fight your way through gunfire to get to the Capitol building--where she’s at. They’ve pushed back most of the loyalists into the train tunnels that run through the mountains. Everyday they gain new ground, but they don’t really dare to go inside of the tunnels. It’s the loyalists’ territory.

“So, where have you been?”

“The Capitol.” you say, following the boy around the corner, “Unconscious and recovering from venom. I’m not easy to get rid of.”

“How’d you get here?”

“Snow organized a personal hovercraft to drop me in the abandoned part of District Two, near Victor’s Village. You should probably get some people watching over there in case it happens again, so the peacekeepers won’t be able to sneak up on you as easily.”

They don’t say anything else after that, even though you mentioned Snow pretty boldly. Of all things they could have asked you about, they ignored the one that would give them the most answers on why you’re here and wanting to see Lyme first.

“I’m going to check to make sure that it’s clear.” the girl says, the rest of you wait for minutes on end, and none of them seem antsy about it.

When she does show up, she tells you that you’re clear to head up, but they’ve got to go back to parolling. She says that you should mention the abandoned thing to Lyme, since she’s more likely to listen to you, and then they walk away.

You take the easiest path you could possibly take to approach the Justice Building. It’s also the one that will put you in the open, allowing the people standing out front to get a good look at you. If you snuck up through the shadows, they’d likely be more distrusting.

You hold your hands up even before you’re out from around the corner. They turn their guns on you quickly, but you don’t stop walking, “I’m here to speak to Lyme.”

“Stop--!”

“I don’t have any weapons on me, put your guns down before you shoot me by accident.” you head up the stairs, “My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, and I’m here to talk to Lyme. I don’t have much time, so let’s leave the formalities for another time.”

“We should go get her--”

The second you turn to look at him, he stiffens, “Open the fucking door and bring me to her, or you’re going to be added to the graveyard.”

His eyes slowly drag to your arm, which is very clearly presented thanks to the short-sleeved shirt.

No words come from him as he opens the door and heads inside. You follow behind him, and from how new your shoes are, they sound like heels against the tile floor. You’re surprised that they aren’t squeaking as if you’ve just come in with water on the bottom of them. You guess that you should be grateful instead.

The guy brings you up the staircase, “You don’t have any weapons on you?”

You have a hundred snarky things that you’re willing to say to him, but you settle for the simple, “No.”

He brings you around a corner, and knocks on a door a couple times. He makes you wait out of sight while he opens the door, “You’ve got a guest.”

“We’re busy--”

“She insists.” he says, and then he allows you to come over.

You don’t wait in the doorway, you head straight inside, “Scram, runt.”

He tries to stand his ground, but the second you force the door to shut, he removes his fingers. After that, you go up to the table to see who’s standing there.

Lyme, as you expected. But there’s a strangely familiar face standing near her, finger still pointing out a place on the map. When she realizes that you see the place she’s pointing at, she retracts her finger into a fist.

“Who are you?” she asks.

You laugh, crossing your arms as you get closer to the map. There’s a bunch of lines drawn in pink marker, and considering the amount of space left behind the line, you’re guessing that’s the rebel’s side. As for the loyalists, they’re marked in red, like they’re the bad guys.

You place your hand on the free space, “Just letting you know, since this entire place is abandoned, the Capitol can sneak right in.” you look up, they’re puzzled, “The Capitol had enough room to drop me off and leave without anyone noticing--I walked for miles until I finally came upon one of your scouting groups. If you’re not careful, they can drop peacekeepers off behind you guys, and you might as well be extinct after that.”

“You’re from the Capitol?” Lyme asks, one of the guys by the window reaches for something in their belt, you can take a solid guess on what it is, even without the sight of it.

“I’m a little disappointed that you don’t recognize me, but I can point you two out even if your guys’ hunger games were ten to twenty years before mine.” you remove your hand from the map now, “As I’ve introduced myself a hundred times now, (Y/n) Rosecelli, District Two’s tribute for the Quell.”

Lyme’s face lights up, “I thought I knew you. You were in the Capitol?”

“Snow took Peeta, Johanna and I out of the arena. While he was ordering people to torture Johanna and Peeta, he put me in a ‘medically induced coma’.” you use the quotation marks, “Because of the spider venom in the arena. Today is my first day back to life, and I’ve experienced more than my fair share of shit today.”

“Welcome back.” Paylor says.

Paylor is a victor from District Eight, like six years or so before your games. She’s young, and really fucking pretty. You’re just a little dumbfounded on why she’s here in District Two, rather than ordering around her own district.

“Thanks.”

Lyme shifts on her feet, “You don’t look too bad.”

“I’ve got scars all over my body, they’re just not visible above the waist.” you shake your head, “And the only reason why I’m even in good condition, is because Snow wants me to calm down the rebels.”

“But you’re not going to.” There’s an edge to Paylor’s voice.

“No, I’m not. Instead, I want a ride to District Thirteen. That’s where Katniss and Finnick are, right?”

Lyme nods, but her face is scrunched up, “I can’t send a hovercraft there because I don’t have any. You’ll have to wait until Coin sends one here with supplies.”

“Coin?”

“President Alma Coin.” Paylor answers, “She’s the leader of District Thirteen.”

Great, another dictatorship.

“Alright, when’s the next supply drop?” you shift on your feet.

Paylor and Lyme share a look, clearly thinking.

“We got one a week ago?” Lyme asks.

“Not even that, a few days ago,” Paylor shakes her head when she looks back at you, “You’ll have to wait at least a week, maybe more.”

You laugh, but nothing about this is funny, “You do know the state of Peeta and Johanna?”

“We know about Peeta, he’s been televised a few times.” A guy says.

“Alright, well take the last time that he was on air, and worsen that by ten. They’re fucking torturing them, you realize that? Johanna had her head shaved and she was drenched in water, like they were waterboarding her.” you lean forward, “We need to get them out.”

“We don’t have an opening for that, much less know where they’re keeping them--”

“The training center.” you say, “And I know how to get to them, I was a door away from them, Peeta and Johanna saw me.”

“That’s the heart of the Capitol.” Paylor says, “Even if we did get the volunteers to do it, we wouldn’t be able to go.”

You raise your eyebrows, “You’re telling me that Beetee hasn’t tried to hack into the security already? Didn’t he work on it for them? He would know some secret window at least.”

They share another look, and Lyme tilts her head, “She has a point.”

“And then what? You think anyone would actually want to go in?” Paylor asks, “It’s a suicide mission.”

“Listen to me,” you lean forward on the table now, they look at you, “I have two weeks--maybe not even that. If Snow finds out that I was lying or keeping information from him, he’s going to come for me and I’ll end up like Peeta, Johanna and Tanith. And if I don’t help the loyalists, he’s going to kill Tanith.

“I am working on a strict time frame, and you guys bickering about this, isn’t helping. Contact Alma Coin or whatever, at least present the idea, and if she likes it and asks for volunteers, you put me at the top of that fucking list. I will lead as many volunteers as she wants to the others. The only thing I ask in return is a free ride to District Thirteen.

“If Tanith is out of his hands, and I’m in thirteen, Snow can’t do anything to me.” you raise your eyebrows, “He won’t be able to use anyone as leverage anymore, and you’ve gained another foot in the rebellion. But all that can’t happen without you at least suggesting the idea to your supreme leader first.”

Lyme rubs her forehead for a moment, before saying; “Get Coin on a call.”

“Want to sit?” someone asks, pulling out a stool.

“Thanks.” you sit, crossing your legs.

You watch as they set up the entire call and as it pends. You spend most of the time fiddling with the hemming on the bottom of the shirt, ripping the stitching out, and then pulling on the string.

Paylor goes back to what she was saying with the map and all before you came inside. She writes down that she needs to add people to scout behind her lines, and then plans the ways that they can get into the tunnel. You want to chime in some way, but you keep out of it.

You can help as soon as Tanith is safe. You need to get Tanith out of the Capitol first, because if you’re even taped being around Lyme and Paylor with no argument going on or anything, you’re going to be fucked. Snow doesn’t have any morals, as much as he hates to admit it. He’s heartless.

“The call’s gone through.” the one by the computer says, “Plutarch’s answered.”

He projects it onto the large blank wall in front of you, but Paylor has to turn around to see him.

“Plutarch… Heavensbee? The gamemaker?” you ask, “Why?”

“He’s the one that helped organize getting them out.” Lyme tells you.

Plutarch has a smile on his face, “(Y/n), it’s nice to see you healthy.”

“You got Katniss, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena?” you ask.

Plutarch nods, “With the help of Haymitch, yes.”

“Fuck you.” you spit, “You fucking left me there! I was right there--you could have gotten me and you let me be taken by the Capitol! You’re the reason why the Capitol has had me for the past couple of weeks, you asshole--”

“Calm.” Lyme comes over, placing her hand on your shoulder, “You can yell at him later, keep on track.”

“Whatever.” you shrug her hand off, crossing your arms.

Paylor picks up where you didn’t start, “She’s been in the training center with the other tributes. She knows how to get to them, and we’d like to try and revisit the idea of a rescue mission with the tributes.”

His face says no, but his words say otherwise; “I wish it was my decision, but Coin has already decided that now isn’t the time. Especially not after we were just attacked by the Capitol.”

“When?” Lyme asks.

“A couple hours ago, we haven’t gone to the surface just yet to make sure that it’s over.”

Your mouth drops open a little bit, “I was on that hovercraft.”

Paylor nearly breaks her neck from how fast her head whips in your direction, “You were?”

“Yeah--I thought it was odd that the space was filled with… bombs. I was expecting them to attack two almost immediately after I hit the city, but they just flew off, away from the direction of the Capitol.” You shake your head, “Before you ask; no, I didn’t hear anything while I was in there.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Paylor sighs, “Where’s Coin?”

“Making sure the systems are still running, I sent someone to get her, so she should be here soon.”

“Good.” you slide off of the stool, “Because when she gets there, you’re going to do everything you can to convince her to consider the idea.”

Plutarch raises his eyebrows.

“She means--” Lyme tries.

“I mean what I said.” you lean against the table, staring at Plutarch’s face, “If you were just attacked, they’re going to be expecting some sort of retaliation. So, you attack their defense systems using Beetee’s knowledge. You get them down long enough, and that’s when the hovercraft slips through. Beetee stops, and then when the hovercraft is heading back, he starts again, or whatever.”

“That’s not exactly how things work…” someone in the corner mumbles.

“Well, they need to make it work.” you stand again, “Because I will be getting them all out of the training center. Even if I’m the only volunteer, I’ll do it.”

Plutarch laughs, “Not hellbent on killing them anymore?”

“They’re strapped to chairs being tortured like animals. Even I know when enough is enough.” you back off after that, “If I come back in here in an hour, and her answer is no, you better start fucking praying, because I am much worse than the Capitol.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter twelve

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kteabug · 3 years

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just out of reach - m.list

Summary: Iwaizumi and Oikawa were always within arms reach of the other, but what happens when misunderstandings and unspoken emotions drive them apart? What happens when everything they thought they knew about the other ceases to be true and they are left to pick the pieces of their friendship up…alone?

Pairings: Alpha!Iwaizumi x Omega!Oikawa

Warnings: Angst, Slow-burn, Friends to strangers, Strangers to friends, Occasional smut, Mentions of depression, manipulation, gaslighting, anxiety, toxic behaviors.

Rating: 18+ Tag list: Open (send an ask to be added)

Word Count: 65,660 (as of latest chapter)

Updates: Irregular Last Updated: May 22, 2022

JOOR Headcanons

JOOR Playlist

JOOR - OC profile 1

JOOR - OC profile 2

JOOR - OC profile 3

JOOR - OC profile 4

Prologue: latibule

Chapter One: habromania

Chapter Two: eccedentesiast

Chapter Three: induratize

Chapter Four: eshajōri

Chapter Five: whelve

Chapter Six: waldosia

Bonus Chapter One: nepenthe

Bonus Chapter Two: acquiesce

Chapter Seven: setsunai

Chapter Eight: anaziphilla

Chapter Eight.Five: lacuna

Chapter Nine: rubatosis

Chapter Ten: retrouvailles

Chapter Eleven: sillage

Chapter Twelve: resfeber

Chapter Thirteen: kairos

Chapter Fourteen: selcouth

Chapter Fifteen: metanoia

Chapter Sixteen: petrichor

Chapter Seventeen: natsukashii

Chapter Eighteen: ephialtes

Chapter Nineteen: sciamachy

Chapter Twenty: saudade

Epilogue: ikigai

hq m.list

#haikyuu #haikyuu omegaverse #iwaoi omegaverse #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu iwaoi #hq iwaoi #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu iwaizumi #oikawa x iwaizumi #iwaizumi x oikawa #omega oikawa #alpha iwaizumi #iwaoi slow burn #haikyuu oiiwa #hq oiiwa #omegaverse au #kteabug joor

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livvywrites · 7 years

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Innocence Lost [1/3]

https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3311489/1/Innocence-Lost

For two weeks, everything was perfect. And then the world shattered--taking Alinora’s heart with it.

This is the first of two short stories detailing the backstory of my main character, Alinora Mynerva.

Preview below:

METANOIA: INNOCENCE LOST

Livvy Moore

The first casualty of war is innocence --S.L. Buckley

Chapter One

I cannot believe that I am writing this. My greatest shame. My worst memory. My darkest nightmare. Committed to paper for anyone to read. Years ago, it would have been unthinkable to me. Even now it makes me tremble with a deep seated dread; my stomach turns with nausea. And yet--

I must commit it to page. I must. The memories are tearing me apart. I cannot profess to lead if I am crumbling from the inside out. I cannotâ--will not--speak of those moments. But I will write them--I will write them to be worthy of the position I was given; of the legacy my sister left.

I cannot--I will not--fail.

It began towards the end of autumn. Winter had begun to knock on the surrounding area's doorstep. The leaves had changed and fallen, coating the ground in a thick carpet of color. But not in Mynera--nay, then, I could barely fathom the thought of the reds and oranges and yellows in the trees.

The land of the everspring, they called us.

I was packing for a hunting trip--the last hunting trip I would be able to take alone with my fiancee for some time. Other hunters would be coming in--and I would be expected to help guide them. I didn't mind it. The looks on their faces when a young elf yet to finish growing felled one of the wild things that lurked in our forests was rather entertaining. However, as much as I enjoyed those outings, they could not compare to time spent alone with my beloved. A two week venture had been planned.

Though I was excited, I handled it in my typical fashion...

Alinora ached. The stone floor dug into her knees, sending pulses of pain up her legs. Her back was twisted over her back; her neck craned to see her checklist. She bore the discomfort without complaint, however.

She had to make sure she had everything. A fortnight was a long time to go without all of the necessary items--like rope, bedrolls, a tent, extra canteens, dried rations, flint and tinder--and Alinora did not plan on turning back. She had waited weeks for this trip; she would be damned if it was canceled because she forgot something.

"Ali, are you checking your bag again?" Her fiancee's voice broke her rigid concentration, and Alinora looked over her shoulder, wincing a bit as she did. Liera stood in the doorway.

Black hair plaited to the left; bright blue iris pinned behind her right ear. She wore a dark blue knee-length dress that fell to her knees; slits cut to mid-thigh to make riding easier, and exposing soft black leggings. Boots climbed her calves; the hilt of a hunting knife poking over the edge.

She had her arms crossed over her chest; hip braced against the door.

"It won't kill you to wait a little longer, Li," Alinora said, even as she climbed to her feet and tucked her list into her pocket.

Liera frowned. "Maybe not, but if we don't leave soon, we're going to be late--and you know Chloe is going to be insufferable about it. Especially since she and Redd have probably been at the pass for a good fifteen minutes already!"

"Li, it's fine. We have plenty of time."

Liera dropped her arms to her sides and pushed away from the door frame. She walked over. "You're right," she admitted. "We do have time. More than enough, really. But... Ali... how many times have you gone over that damn list?"

Alinora grimaced. So that was what this was about--not Liera's infamous impatience; but concern that Alinora was working herself into another panic. "I'm fine." There was no need for pretense here. She took Liera's hands. "I'm not obsessing again, I promise."

"That's not an answer, Alinora." Liera squeezed her hands. "How many times have you checked your bag?"

"I... don't remember." Was that the flower she'd given Liera at the beginning of summer, tucked behind her ear? It sure looked like it.

"Liar." Liera didn't sound impressed.

Alinora cut her gaze back to her girlfriend. Didn't look impressed either. Her grimace deepened. "Alright, alright. Maybe... twelve times?"

Liera sighed. She stepped further into Alinora's space--a space only Liera was allowed to broach. "Love, there's no way you've forgotten anything." She pressed their forehead's together. "Once you've checked three times, you really don't need to check anymore. I promise."

Alinora let Liera's hands go and wrapped her arms around Liera's waist instead. "I know... I just..."

"Want everything to go perfectly?" Liera laughed quietly; the smile on her face heartbreakingly fond. "It will. Not because you remembered every item on your list, but because for the first time in two months, you and I will be alone, without anyone breathing down our necks."

Alinora bit her lip. Scythes and shields, that sounded perfect. But what if...

"I know this quest for perfection runs in your family, but... you can mess up, and forget something, and it'll still be okay."

Liera raised a hand and cupped her cheek; thumb stroking her cheekbone. Alinora leaned into the touch, and released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, the two of them just stood there; breathing in sync. Existing.

Alinora opened her eyes.

Liera smiled. "Better?"

Alinora nodded once.

"Good!" She pressed a soft, chaste kiss against Alinora's mouth, and stepped back. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get going. It's been too long since you and I had any alone time." And she winked, suggestively.

"Liera!" Alinora hissed.

Sure, most of the castle was well aware that these "hunting trips" involved a little more than just hunting, but that didn't mean they had to go around announcing it. It wouldn't be proper.

Liera laughed. "Darling, without the wink, even if someone inferred what I was suggesting, it wasn't nearly obvious enough to get us in trouble." She bopped Alinora's nose. "Get your pack and let's go."

Alinora rolled her eyes; but a grin tugged on the edges of her mouth. She hoisted her pack up and over her shoulders, doing one last casual survey of her room to make sure she hadn't left anything lying out. Satisfied, she turned.

"Lead the way," she said.

Liera grinned. "Enjoy the view, dear." She turned and walked out, hips swaying playfully.

Alinora's grin widened, and she followed behind--obeying instructions without complaint... for once.

#my writing #femslash #novella #fantasy #metanoia #innocence lost #alinora mynerva #original fic

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia Masterlist (f.o)

summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

—

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten 1/2

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

— Short Stories

Prevaricate

Malefic

— Aesthetics

Tanith Nuova

(Y/n) Rosecelli

#ilguna #finnick odair #metanoia masterlist

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Six (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 6.2k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

If for whatever reason, you’d ever have to be a spy, you’d be absolutely fantastic at it. Not only are you quiet, but you’re fairly secretive. You’d be good at a job like that, infiltrating the enemies lines and gathering information just to bring it back to the person who wanted it.

Although, you’re not the one doing that right now, it’s Neysa. She’s the one gathering information from others and bringing it to you to assess as you try to work out this now oh-so complicated plan. It’s so bad, that you might even have to go back on your word about double-alliances.

You throw the blankets off of you, slipping off of the bed. You take one glance at the clock to check the time to see that it’s two in the morning, you’re going to be right on time. To wake yourself up a little bit, you go into the bathroom, turning on the sink. You gather a handful of water before splashing it onto your face.

Using the towel to dry off your face, you toss it onto the counter and then head to leave the room. The door opens automatically for you, and the walk through the hallway is short. You can see the silhouette of Neysa’s body standing by the tv in the living room.

One of your ankles pop, which makes her turn to make sure that it’s you. You can see her shoulders sink a little bit, relieved that it is you, and not someone else. She won’t have to explain why she’s standing in front of the tv on low volume at one in the morning.

“So?” you whisper, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Haymitch says that Peeta says no.” Neysa tells you.

“No surprise there, it was worth a shot. Katniss is probably holding him back.” Which is a good thing, your intentions aren’t to be friends with them, if you get in, you can kill them and then get out.

If they both have managed to set history, then that means that they have to be taken out, it’s as simple as that. They shouldn't be allowed to stay alive longer than a couple of days. You know that Brutus is already on edge, you can only imagine how Gloss and Cashmere are.

You three are like a pack of wild wolves.

However, as you four will be working towards the same goal, it’s for different reasons. They’ll likely want to do it so they can get it off their backs and be able to survive without the worry of Katniss or Peeta sneaking up on you guys. As for you, you can’t just settle with being a two-timing victor.

If you can take out both Katniss and Peeta, then the crown would be pure gold. You’d be looked at differently for the rest of your life. People would practically bow at your feet. If you can take down the people that have broken records, then you’re no one to mess with.

And on top of that, you want to take down Finnick too. That’s three fucking kills that would make you a ton more deadly and looked up to. The boy who won at the youngest age, and a pair of tributes from an outsider district that got twelves. Just the thought of having power like that in your palms sends a shiver down your spine.

You’d be a living legend. Infamous, people would know your name for years to come.

(Y/n) Rosecelli. Victor of both the sixty-sixth hunger games and the seventy-fifth Quarter Quell. She went up against twenty-three other tributes and came out a winner on both occasions. On top of that, she also took out three record-breaking victors. One of whom was the youngest victor, ever, Finnick Odair. And the only two tributes who have ever received a twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

You can see it all now.

“Well, what about Finnick?”

“Said he’d talk to you in person today.” Neysa says, “Will you tell me your plan now?”

You smile a little bit, “Infiltrate the enemy’s alliance. Wipe them out. Go back to my original alliance. Three simple steps.”

Neysa is thinking, until a smile starts to slowly spread over her face, “Smart girl.”

Getting out of bed this time is much harder than it was the first time. You would rather just lay here for a little while longer and stare at the ceiling. For once, this feeling of dread belongs to you and not anyone else. And you have a faint feeling on why.

You’re about to be interrogated to hell by the one person you hate the most in the world. He’s going to ask you why you’ve changed your mind so quickly and if he should be weary of anything. And then he’ll ask if he should even trust you, especially after you made your goal very clear; kill everyone and win.

He won’t be dumb enough to accept blindly, which will be a pain in the ass, but you suppose it could make it more fun as well. Having him look over his shoulder, keeping one eye open when he sleeps. Always anticipating your next move.

Why not play with your prey a little bit?

The dread is replaced by your own enthusiasm. You pull yourself out of bed, going to the bathroom to take a shower. The water is burning hot on your skin as you scrub yourself clean with nice smelling soaps. You allow yourself to wash your hair today, since you’ll need to be looking your absolute best today for the interview. Greasy hair isn’t the best quality to have.

When you’re done, you scrunch your hair in one towel, while drying your body with another one. You pull on comfortable clothes since you’ll be changing soon anyway, and go back to your hair immediately after. With a few detangling sprays, the brush goes through your hair as if there were no knots to begin with.

You squeeze out any excess water into the sink. You look as good as you’re going to for now, and you practically skip your way out into the dining room. Only Neysa sits there, coffee mug in her hand. The avox is by the table with food.

“Coffee,” you tell her, she nods and moves into the kitchen to grab it, “Room for creamer, please.”

You take your seat across from Neysa, loading up your plate without a word to her. You begin on a roll, occasionally dipping it into your stew. Every movement feels as if you’re in a hurry. You have to slow yourself down considerably, giving yourself a time limit for when you can take another bite.

When the avox comes over with the coffee the way you like it, you thank her. They’re human as much as you are. If there’s one thing you’re not fond of in the Capitol, it’s the way they use district people as servants for something they’ve done. No matter how bad, they don’t deserve to be treated like that. Not to mention, there are much worse jobs than this for them to take, too.

Actually, the avoxes aren’t the ones picking them out, it’s the officials that run all that for Snow. They’re the ones assigning people based on what they think they’d be good at. Hell, you think that some avoxes aren’t even people from the districts, that it’s people from the Capitol too. Which is weird, considering that the Capitol is supposed to be the favorite.

“Amias will be coming up in thirty minutes to get you.” Neysa says, “Eat quickly, just don’t make yourself sick.”

“Sure.” you say, resuming the pace that you had been going originally.

It’s only ten minutes later when Edmond is coming into the room. He hesitates by the doorway, and then he cautiously takes his seat at the table. Five minutes after that, Brutus is bounding into the room without a care in the world, also taking a seat. The only person that is missing is Theo, thank god.

You’re glad that you haven’t been forced to listen to his fucking voice, it’s an absolute nightmare to deal with.

Once you’re done eating, you ask for another cup of coffee while you wait out the last ten minutes. Today is going to fly by as if it’s not actually happening. It’s the last day of ‘peace and quiet’ before tomorrow, the beginning of the games. It’s like sitting on the edge of your seat.

There’s literally endless possibilities on what the arena will look like tomorrow. You haven’t got a single clue on what it might be. All you do know is that it’s going to be special and deceiving. It’s how the last Quarter Quell went with Haymitch. While you were rewatching the games, they included Haymitch’s games.

Your only guess as to why is because it’s the most recent Quell. They’re throwing you a bone of sorts. Let you know that it’s going to be hell from start to finish. Things are not going to be what they seem.

The landscape was beautiful, the animals, the air, the water, the land. All of it was something out of a dream, it looked like. Until dream turned to nightmare, when the animals turned out to be rabid, and the arena was nowhere near friendly. And that was the year there were forty-eight tributes instead of twenty-four. Not only were the tributes doubled, but everything inside of the arena was working against them.

Haymitch had gotten lucky when he won. His stomach was spilling out of his body, he was quite literally holding it in. As for the girl he had gone up against, she was missing an eye. Blood was running down her face as if it was a new established river. The both of them should have been dead, but one of them threw their weapon over the cliff. It hit the forcefield, and came right back at the girl, nailing her in the forehead.

It’s the only reason why Haymitch had won. He realized that the forcefield was there early on into the games. Utilized it and stuck by the cliff for the rest of them. The girl was just unlucky that she was still standing there when the weapon came firing back.

The sound of an opening door makes you glance over your shoulder. And just like Neysa had promised, Amias stands at the door, “Ready to go?”

You finish off the rest of the caffeine, you now know why Neysa has been so adamant when it comes to drinking this stuff, it really does keep you energized. You set the mug back down before skipping down the steps to Amias.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She opens the door for you, but doesn’t follow you out just yet, “Brutus, be down there in at least three hours from now, showered.”

“Got it.”

Amias closes the door after that, and the two of you head over to the elevator. She takes care of pressing the buttons, bringing you guys down to the floor where you need to be.

“What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Get you dolled up so you can make an impression on sponsors.” Amias says.

You roll your eyes, “No shit. What am I going to look like?”

“You’ll see.”

Resisting the urge to get snotty with her, you lace your fingers together and stare straight ahead. The elevator doors open, and she takes the lead, bringing you through the hallways. It’s not as empty as it usually is, there are a few people walking around already.

They look like Capitol citizens, so your best guess is that they’re prep teams and stylists. Although, the stylists typically treat the prep teams like they’re under their boots, so the prep teams run the most errands while the stylists sit back and do anything else. The stylists’ jobs are more important though, so it’s no surprise.

Anyway, that doesn’t really matter.

Amias brings you into the room where you had been for the tribute parade. The two guys are already waiting by the chair, looking at you skeptically, until the one that normally does your hair, perks up considerably.

“You washed your hair! Good, did you use all the products they had?” he asks, coming over to feel.

“I thought I’d leave the aftercare to you guys, since I don’t really mess around with that type of stuff.”

“Good decision.” he says, then he looks at Amias, “We’ll let you know when she’s ready for the outfit.”

“I’ll be back soon, (Y/n)” Amias says, leaving the room.

You’re directed to the chair, and the one who does your hair doesn’t really hesitate with getting to work. The other one sits back for now, rummaging through all the makeup that they have on the vanity. He’ll open a pallet, look over it, and then set it back onto the stack that just seems to grow taller and taller.

You watch patiently as your hair is messed with. He starts off with blow drying it, which takes a pretty long time since he’s not using the hot air. He’s got plenty of time to mess around and do what he wants. He leaves it fairly damp, coats his hands in product, and then spreads it through your hair. He doesn’t bother brushing your hair before moving on to the next product.

The hair and makeup are probably going to take forever, which is why Amias slipped out of the room. The tribute parade outfit didn’t take nearly as long or had a hassle like this, because it wasn’t as important. People can hardly see you when you’re on the chariots anyway, since you’re so distanced.

As for the interviews, people are going to see you up close and personal. Every detail that is fucked up will be critiqued harshly, which leads to bad publicity. It takes away sponsors, it dissipates Amias’s good reputation, and suddenly you’re not a favorite anymore.

You just want to get through with getting ready, so you can skip to the part where you’re standing in front of Finnick. You’re quite curious about what he might say now. How he’ll handle everything, and if he’ll take you up on the offer.

Neysa was sure to specify that you wanted both Mags and Finnick as allies, but only to mention it to Finnick so he could make the decision. You were hoping that you wouldn’t have to talk to him face to face, and have the mentors communicate for you guys, but it will be easier to convince him. Maybe you can even play innocent, apologize and say it’s one big act.

As if he or anyone else would believe that now. They know who you are, they know how you won your games. The only thing that you’re genuinely good at--besides everything else that you’re good at--is the fact that you’re deceiving. But you can’t be deceiving to an audience that already knows your plans.

You can sure as hell try, but that will tear away all the work you’ve made. Sponsors will likely go down the toilet. And honestly, since you depend on sponsors to get you by--and you’ll definitely be doing that this year because of the arena--then you can’t really give that up.

Wasn’t a good plan anyway.

You watch as your hair is parted into two, the top half, and the bottom half. The top part starts at your temples, and he pulls it into one ponytail at the back of your head. He then pulls out a ton of bobby pins, beginning to pin a bun in place. When he’s done with that, he pulls some hair out in front to frame your face before using hairspray to keep the top half in place.

He moves onto the bottom, making your hair into loose curls. After each section, he’ll use more hairspray and then move onto the next. This is when the makeup guy finally comes in, getting to work.

You close your eyes to make it easier for him, knowing that you probably won’t be able to see yourself in the mirror in a while anyway, “What time is it?”

“Only two or three hours before interviews start.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Half past one.” the one doing your hair answers, “I’ll be done with your hair soon, and then go and get Amias while you eat something.”

You can’t believe that time has flown that fast. You’d be super surprised, but you did get out of bed by nine, which is pretty late considering all the early starts you’ve been getting lately. Amias more or less threw you a bone by letting you get up that late.

Brutus is lucky that he doesn’t have to go through as much as you do. He doesn’t even have hair to be messed with.

“Did you see the scores last night?”

“Of course I did, can you believe it?”

“Are you going to sponsor either of them?”

“Are you stupid?” he asks, and then pauses to think, “They’re going to be dead within the first day.”

“Who do you think would be dumb enough to go after them?”

“Me.” you laugh.

“Well--” the one doing your makeup sounds like he doesn’t believe it, “You’d really go after Katniss and Peeta?”

“They’re not that good.” the hair guy says, “Especially not Peeta.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Hair guy laughs, “You only like them because of their love story. Plus, they’re a couple of teenagers, they may be youthful, but they don’t have that much experience.”

“Who do you think that they’re allied with?”

“After we saw what Katniss did last year--probably Mags. I mean, can you really see her with anyone else? She chose a child as an ally and skipped over Peeta entirely.”

“I guess you have a point.”

They’re not wrong, Katniss did get with a child, and you saw her around Wiress and Beetee the first day. And then later on with Mags at the fishhook station. You think that was just before she went to the bow and arrow station. You can hardly remember it because you were still training with the idiot in body armor.

He wasn’t very good at his job.

Anyway, if Katniss is paired with Mags, then that inadvertently pairs her with Finnick too. Which then drags Peeta into that mess as well. It makes sense for them, but you wonder how Johanna and Blight pair into all of this…

Finnick could have very well been acting like that to throw you off his trail, though. So you should take all this information with a grain of salt. Finnick is a good liar, you’ve seen him in action quite a lot since volunteering.

But if Johanna and Blight are in this, then that would mean that Peeta brought them in. He seems to have more sense than Katniss does. She chooses the weaker people--people who can’t really fight back if she wants to overpower them. And she doesn’t seem to do that because she does plan to fight them later on, it’s because she wants to look over them.

As for Peeta, he paired with the careers. He’s smart, getting with people that can protect him. When he had first come in with Katniss, his first place to go to was Brutus, Cashmere and Gloss. Then Johanna, and later you during lunch. Like he was trying to set down a base with you guys on purpose.

Well, they did what they had to do. They knew none of you, unlike you guys. You’ve heard about and known each other for years. They’re new to this whole victor thing. It’s a shame that they won’t live to be able to see the rest of it.

They finish hair and makeup at around the same time. You’re given food that isn’t messy and would mess up your makeup--even though he had sprayed a ton of setting spray to keep it all in place. You eat enough, leaving yourself slightly hungry so that you won’t feel nauseous on stage.

Amias comes in ten minutes later with the hair guy. In her hands is a dress-length bag that’s concealing it from sight. Hair guy pulls out a moving closet that’s just a few metal poles on wheels. She hooks the hanger on, and then unzips the bag.

Your mouth falls open, “Jeez.”

Amias looks at you, “Do not disappoint on stage tonight. This is the best dress I have.”

You give her a look, “As if I ever disappoint.”

“Spray some of that glitter in her hair again,” she tells the hair guy, “She’ll need it tonight.”

Your face is covered with what looks like cardboard, while the hairspray is added. Amias pulls the dress out of the bag, there is no zipper, the back is open enough to the point where you can just step in. They hold your hands and arms while you step in, then they pull it up and over your body.

It’s a mermaid dress, the type that’s skin-tight at the top but flows at the knees. This one is a little looser though, allowing you to move without problem. It’s silky on the inside, but a little rough on the outside because of the glitter. When you rub it and take a look at your hands, nothing transferred.

The dress is held up by spaghetti straps that cross in the back to make an x. There is no plunge, it dips a little to show off cleavage, but that’s where the line is drawn.

“Grab her the white heel-less shoes.” Amias says, she pulls out Tanith’s necklace, putting it on for you.

They bring over a pair of shoes that look basically the same as the black ones you wore for the reaping. No heel, but they are heels, designed to keep you balanced even if you lean back. That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be careful with how you move around.

You let them put on the shoes for you, since you don’t have that much of an option. Even with the shoes on, the dress still hits the floor, and there’s a little bit of a train in the back.

They slip in matching earrings, bracelets and the ring that you had gotten from the tribute parade to please whoever threw the gift at you. It’s a hope that they’ll sponsor you when you’re inside of the arena because of it. It makes you look considerate and humble, which you don’t really care about.

They’re like a hurricane with how they move around you. They tweak, they adjust, they take a step back. Amias orders them around harshly, she’s strict on what she wants. She’s obviously got something envisioned and she won’t allow it to be fucked up by a couple of morons.

“How much time until interviews?” you ask.

Makeup guy takes a look at his watch, “Thirty minutes.”

“Am I done?” you ask Amias.

“In a hurry?”

“I’ve got something to do, and it has to be done before interviews since we’ll be standing on stage after them.”

Amias looks over you one last time, “Yes, you may go. Pull up the front when you walk, don’t bend down, and don’t touch your face or hair. If you need something to play with, stick with the ring and necklace.”

“Thank you.” you say, giving her a wave as you slip out of the room.

In the hallway waits a couple of people already. Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus primarily. They all stand together in a half circle. Gloss looks over by chance and catches you.

Following what Amias said, you pull up the front of the dress as you walk over, being sure to give a look around to see if Finnick is out just yet. You can’t imagine that he really needs a lot done to him. The guys always get let off easier.

A great example, is whatever the fuck Brutus is wearing.

“You’re kidding me.” you flick the silver armor that he has on.

After, you’re quick to make sure you haven’t chipped your nail polish. It’s fine, it’s probably got some strong coating knowing Amias.

“Nope.”

“You’re basically wearing what you had for the tribute parade.” you scowl, “I guess you can get away with whatever you want.”

Brutus shrugs.

You look at Cashmere and Gloss to see that they’re wearing similar sequin outfits. You make a face, nodding since it makes sense that they’re matching. They’re siblings after all. Cashmere takes this as a nod of approval and sends a smile your way.

“You look amazing.” Gloss says.

“I know.” you say, looking around again.

There he is, eyes locked on you. He uses his index finger to beckon you to follow him, going around a corner. You let out a laugh, and then look to the others to see that they’re waiting to see what you’re laughing at.

“I’ve got to use the restroom, can you believe that? I’ll be back in a second.” you tell them, before leaving them.

You pass by a couple of people in the hallway, and with the way that they stare, you feel like you’re at a high school prom all over again. Junior year after you had won your games, the way that people looked at you was never the same. As if they were afraid to approach you or something.

You did win prom queen that year, though. And then the year after that, too.

You take a wide turn around the corner as if Finnick is going to pounce on you the second you round it. However, he’s pretty far down the hall, arms crossed with a smug look on his face.

“What happened to being too good for an alliance with me?” he asks, he looks amused and cocky.

“I came to my senses,” you flash him a white smile, “I realized that it might be good to have you around, after all.”

“It has nothing to do with the fact that Katniss and Peeta got twelve’s?”

You can’t lie your way out of this, he’ll know, “Partially. Forget hanging around with Cashmere, Gloss and Brutus. I want a place in whatever you have.”

“Fat chance.” he says, and you can feel your smile fade a little.

“Why not?”

“You know why. I don’t want you killing my allies.”

“Want them all to yourself?” Your eyebrow spikes up, “Tell me Finnick, are you going to be able to protect them when they rush towards the cornucopia tomorrow?”

Finnick opens his mouth, “They can take care of themselves.”

“Let’s see, you’ll be taking care of Mags, and Katniss will be taking care of Peeta because he’s nothing but a sack of flour--how ironic. If you have me there, I can basically be a bodyguard.”

“Until you kill one of us in our sleep, right?” Finnick watches your face carefully, “You’re mistaking me for something that I’m not.”

“Everyone is going to kill each other one way or another.” you say, “I won’t have to do it early on, that’s the whole point of alliances. I keep you guys around until we start to turn on each other.”

“What if we don’t have those intentions?” Finnick asks, there’s an edge to his voice.

You open your mouth, “What are you planning?”

“Tell me, (Y/n), are you a loyalist?”

You can feel yourself become stiff. Loyalist, a term normally used for people who would follow the government no matter what happens. In that case, it would the Capitol and the districts. It’s no secret that District One and District Two would follow the Capitol because you guys are treated like loyalty, as for the other districts...

There’s a deeper meaning, especially after what happened in the last games. Not all the districts like the Capitol or President Snow and his precious Hunger Games. They would do anything to cancel them, and after what Katniss pulled with Peeta, there have been a few people fighting back, Neysa and Edmond were whispering about it over dinner last night.

Loyalist. Loyalist. Loyalist.

There’s a much bigger plan going on here.

You snap your mouth shut, which has since opened after that question. You press your lips together tightly as you stare at Finnick’s face. You feel like a robot with how you don’t move.

Loyalist. It would mean that they’re planning to go against President Snow, right? It would mean that there will be people who stay loyal to the Capitol, and the people who wouldn’t be.

You can’t lie, you have had a fantastic life in District Two. But you’re human and you realize that other people are too. Just like how you hate how the avoxes are treated, you hate how some of the other districts are treated too.

But if an uprising is what they think is going to solve all of this, you don’t like them at all. They’re going to screw up the way of life for too many people. District Two is happy how they serve the Capitol, no one will fight with them. And if you’re wrong about that, then there aren't very many who will.

However, would you fight with them? If what he said is real, would you fight with them?

“You are bold.” you continue staring at Finnick with an open mouth, unsure of how to actually approach this, “And careless for asking me a question like that outright.”

Finnick’s face twists now, “Are you, though?”

The thing is you don’t know. The hunger games is all you’ve ever known. You’ve never lived any other lifestyle.

“Yes or no.” Finnick insists.

“I’m not going to answer that question.” you decide, “Because I don’t know what you’re up to, and I don’t want to. Forget the alliance thing, I change my mind.”

You start to walk off, but Finnick catches your arm, “I could tell you.”

“Why would you want to?”

Finnick lets go, “Because having you on our side could be useful.”

“Useful for what?” you lower your voice, “Getting everyone else in District Two to follow behind all the other rioting districts?”

He’s clearly surprised that you understood so quickly.

“We have nothing to complain about, Finnick. We’ve got the good life.”

“And everyone else? What about the people who don’t have the good life? The ones that fight to live everyday? What about them?” he asks.

You nod slowly, thinking, “Well, I’m not a loyalist and I’m not too fond of being considered a traitor either.”

“You’re after the glory of being a legend, right?” Finnick asks, you take a step back, “This is better than that. People will know that you were the first person from District Two to hop on and lead. You want people to look up to you, here it is.”

You want to tell him it’s not the same, but the words don’t appear in your mouth.

Finnick is looking past you now, and you turn to see who he’s staring at. Haymitch Abernathy, his eyebrows are drawn together, “Interviews have started.”

“Thanks.” Finnick says, and the two of you watch as he disappears behind the corner again, “Don’t make the decision now, but if you do want to join us, come and find me inside of the arena.”

You look at him, “You’re going to run to the cornucopia, I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not. Which is why I think you’ll make the right decision.”

You scoff, “Right decision? You know what you’re asking, right?” and then you laugh, shaking your head as you pull up your dress so you can walk away, “How do I know if any of this is even true?” he doesn’t say anything, “Exactly, this could be some sort of sick ruse just to draw me in to kill me and get me out of the way. I didn’t come here to be killed, I came here to win. And you’re going to have to fight me for it.”

You shake your head at him one last time before turning around and walking back to the main hallway. There are a ton of people waiting now, but you don’t spare any looks. Brutus is waiting for you by a tv, which holds both Cashmere and Gloss.

“They’re doing it together?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, since they’re siblings and all,” Brutus takes a look over your face, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” you say, “I’m ready for all of this to be done now. No more meddling, I just want to be inside of the arena.”

“Tomorrow.” Brutus says, “Then everyone can pay their dues.”

You smile a little bit at the thought, “Anyway, are we going up together?”

“No, we’re not.” Brutus says, you watch as Caesar starts to wrap up the interview.

“Better get ready.” he motions for you to go down the hall.

You do, being sure to hold up the front of the dress as you go down. Amias is standing in a little alcove with a mirror. She adjusts a few things, wishes you luck and then you stand in front of the doors.

There’s a cheering of the crowd before Caesar starts talking, “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s welcome one of our favorites! You know her as the girl who blew her competition out of the water! Let’s give a warm welcome to (Y/n) Rosecelli!”

The doors open, you can see Caesar has his arm outstretched towards you. The spotlight meets your eyes, making it difficult to see, but you don’t dare to move your hands from the fronts of your dress. You’re just puzzled as to why he said the second thing.

‘Blew her competition out of the water’? Since when? As in you did so well during your games, or something you might have done during this week that you weren’t aware of? It’s weird to know that the Capitol gives tributes nicknames, you’d think they’d run out of them.

Gloss and Cashmere, the brother and sister duo. Beetee, the genius. Finnick, the peacock. Johanna, the deceiver. Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire and Peeta Mellark--loverboy.

You never got to know yours.

You take Caesar’s hand when you come up the steps, giving the biggest smile you can to the audience, “Caesar!”

“(Y/n)!” He meets your enthusiasm.

The two of you wait until the audience has settled before actually starting with the interview. When you look over your shoulder, you can see that Cashmere and Gloss are waiting up on some small walkway. You’ll be standing there for an hour when you’re done with this interview.

“How does it feel to be back in the Capitol after all these years?” He begins, “You know, we’ve missed you and your business.”

“It feels fantastic, really. Like I’m back in my second home, the Capitol has this welcoming feel, especially for me. If it weren’t for my favorite students back home, then I would stay here forever.” you give a big smile, “I might even consider it, after I win.”

Caesar laughs, the citizens cheer at the sound of that, “You’ve got your mind set on the big win?”

“Of course I do. And I promise to make this year much more entertaining than my first games. No abrupt endings this time.”

More cheering, enough so that Caesar has to watch the clock so it doesn’t take up too much of your time, “You said that you have students, what ever do you mean?”

You laugh a little, “I mean my two tributes who won, Tanith and Zavian. I’m hoping they’re watching, but knowing Zavian, he’s likely avoiding the television until I’m off.” you give a look to the nearest camera, “As for Tanith, she’s on the edge of her seat, fingers crossed that I don’t blow this.”

“You could never!” Caesar says, “You’re too good to even be on here.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Caesar.” you laugh with him.

“Is there anything you would like to say to Tanith or Zavian?”

You pucker your lips as you think, “Well, I just want them to know that I will uphold my promise. I will be coming home, even if it might kill me. I will be walking out of that arena alive.”

“That’s a bold statement.”

“I’m a bold person.” you say.

While the crowd cheers, Caesar is obviously thinking up other things to ask you, “Should we expect any surprises?”

It feels like you have a flashback to the hallway, to Finnick telling you not to make your decision right then and there. It was open-ended. It was an invitation to go and see him whenever you’d like inside of the arena if you come to your senses. As if he’ll take you in with no question.

“Maybe.” You say, “Because we both know that the arena will be a doozy, there’s no telling what might happen inside of there.”

Caesar nods, liking that answer.

There’s a faint beeping, which is a signal that your interview is over.

“Thank you for your time (Y/n), it was a pleasure having you.”

“It was a pleasure being back inside of the Capitol after nine years.” you give a wave to the audience.

“Everyone, please give a big round of applause for (Y/n) Rosecelli, our favorite star!”

Star. That’s your nickname.

You’re a Star.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter six

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Metanoia - Chapter One (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4.9k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

This might be it. This might just be the first time you’re feeling emotion that doesn’t belong to yourself. And all you can say about it is: it’s completely awful. It’s nothing close to what your mother had told you about. Right now, it feels like you’re a prisoner in your own body, and you’re not being allowed to feel for yourself.

Whoever your soulmate is, they’re obviously empathetic to the point that it’s crippling. Imagine being this grief-ridden on reaping day. You can’t fathom the idea that any regular person would feel this bad for people. So there’s really a couple of things that might be going on.

One, your soulmate is a friend of a victor, and they’re worried that their favorite person is going to get pulled to go back inside. Two, they’re family of a victor and it’s the same thing. Three, it’s an empathetic person--which you can’t stand. Or four, it’s a victor themself.

No matter the way it goes, their emotion is cancelling out yours. You don’t want to be full of sorrow, you know for a fact that somewhere deep in your body, you’re absolutely bubbling with excitement. You’ve been looking forward to today ever since the games were announced in the winter.

Today is the day.

And yet, you can’t pull yourself out of bed. You’ve been staring at the white ceiling for at least an hour now, setting yourself back. It’s like all the enthusiasm has been drained from your body, and you’re actually regretting your decision.

A slight shiver runs through your body at that thought. You draw the line there, you’re not going to regret anything.

Pushing yourself up, you slide out of the silk bed sheets before you can change your mind and go back to laziness. You don’t bother fixing the blankets, not really caring for the fact that they’re in disarray. You never make the bed, and you won’t start on it today either. It’s a tactic of stalling, and there’s no reason for you to.

Before the shower, you decide on picking out the dress. Something gold and glittery, which is just about the entire wardrobe. You didn’t actually buy any of these dresses, they were all given as a gift from your stylists or Capitol citizens when you spent your summer after the games, inside of the Capitol.

You pick out a floor-length dress that’s a mix between black and gold. Two set colors that you can match easily. You kick out the heels that are also black and somewhat glittery. They don’t have the actual heel part to them, but they are engineered to look like it, and they’re pretty easy to walk in. They’re always your go-to when it comes to special things like this.

The dress is only a little bit poofy, and it’s on the lower half. Either way, it goes down to the floor, and there should be no chance of anyone seeing your feet to know that you’re reusing another pair of shoes. There’s a v-neck plunge, but it doesn’t show much skin, you still look pretty modest. In the back, it’s open.

It’s definitely a dress you could find yourself wearing during the interviews with Caesar. Or a dress you would have worn after your first tribute had won the hunger games. You’ve only mentored twice, and both of them came out alive. After that, the job was handed onto them since they were the more recent victors.

All your jewelry resides on the white vanity, but you don’t bother picking those out. You toss the dress over the back of the chair, and move the shoes nearby so it won’t be a hunt. After that, you go ahead and get into the bathroom to take your shower.

You scrub your entire body clean, even though you know that you’ll be washed again inside of the Capitol about a dozen times. You do the basics to your hair, and when you get out, you’re putting product after product in so it’s ready when you do finally come around to it.

You pull on your undergarments, skipping your dress as you head downstairs for breakfast. There’s no shame in going downstairs half-naked. There’s no one else here to call you out on it.

You hit the bottom of the stairs, and while you’re navigating through the living room to get to the kitchen, you pause in the open doorway, a little surprised to see who’s sitting on the white loveseat.

Tanith is flipping through one of those books that are on the bookshelf for pure decoration. From here, you recognize the pink cover like you received the book yesterday, when it’s been years. A gift from your then-district representative, the cover reads in nice script writing, ‘how to get used to your new wealth’. Written by some asshole inside of the Capitol.

“Riveting.” Tanith looks up from the book, eyes landing on you. But she freezes, “God--I’m sorry--”

She covers her eyes, and you can’t help to laugh, “Really?”

You walk past her, heading into the kitchen. You dig through the fridge, pulling out some fresh fruits that you’d bought yesterday from the store. On top of that, you pull out a few eggs too, pop bread into the toaster, spray some cooking butter onto the pan so the eggs won’t stick, and work away.

“I should have knocked instead of walking inside.” She says, “That’s my fault.”

You shrug, “I have no shame, not after my time in the Capitol.”

“I expect not.” you can hear the light scraping of the stool against the tile floor, “You really want to go back inside?”

After the games had been announced, all the victors in the district had gathered together to have their own little meeting. Cipher the people who didn’t want to go back in, and make the ones who did, known. The old were automatically ruled out either way, whether they wanted to go inside or not, they’re too delusional. Old age has rotten their brains, some can’t think straight anymore.

There had been a good handful of people that wanted to go back inside. The only problem was that everyone wanted to do it based on capabilities again. To keep you guys on top of the pyramid as usual. You can’t send in someone who would die off immediately. Thus, a competition started.

As time went on, people were slowly weaned out. Based off of strength, fighting capabilities, who still knew the edible plants, the medical knowledge. If you were able to still present well, with the cute dresses, the white smiles, the charming personalities.

It brought it down to only a couple of you. Sorcha, an older woman in her forties who’s fit even after all these years. She’s arrogant--even more than you--and mean. She’s self-driven, disregards most of the people that come across her. She started off as a Capitol favorite, but now they see her as a total bitch.

Daleka, in her thirties and a very skilled fighter. She won her games by being completely ruthless. Her personality is likable, the Capitol complained when she stopped visiting and mentoring all together. Has a wife and a kid she adopted from the foster care place.

You, of course. Only twenty-five, still seen as somewhat fresh off of the arena. Nine years may seem like a long time to others, but not to you. Along that time, other districts have won too. Like Annie from four and Johanna from seven, and your most recently hated, Katniss and Peeta from twelve.

But that doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re one of the top three for the most recent out of the arena. First would be Zavian, next would be Tanith, and then it would be you. Everything is still very fresh in your mind, since you were the one that had mentored both Zavian and Tanith. What you’re saying is, you’re a perfect candidate.

Anyway, the final girl that had wanted to go in was Enobaria. A Capitol favorite, like most of you are. Fierce, confident. She got her teeth filed to be sharp because of her signature win of ripping a tribute’s throat out. Fun to be around, nowhere near bubbly like some people think.

And for the boys, the list was quite large, and you wouldn’t be able to name all of them on one hand. The whole point of this is, there could only be one girl and one boy sent in. Therefore, the competition narrowed it down for everyone, as the challenges progressively got harder.

For boys, Brutus won. Tall, bald, muscular. He’s in his forties, but he looks to be about late thirties instead. He’s cocky, a complete pain in the ass, and he would be difficult to fight. But he’s an ally that you can’t deny wouldn’t be good to have at your side.

And for girls, you won it. You practically blew Sorcha and Daleka out of the water. Enobaria was much more difficult to shake, though. She’d obviously continued studying even after her games. You might have been a softie back in the academy, but you were a quick learner, and all of it stuck like it’d been glued with superglue.

The volunteer is yours to have. And if you chose to back out, there would be no harm in it. That’s why Enobaria is there, she’s the backup in case you were to choose to do something like that. However, you didn’t fight tooth and nail with a bunch of bullies just to quit it. You want that win.

“Yes,” you answer Tanith’s question, “I do. Afraid I won’t win?”

She snorts, “Hardly. I’m afraid that you’ll be a murder machine.”

You look over your shoulder at her, “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” she says, and with that, you serve her the eggs, toast and berries. After that, you slide her the butter for her toast, “Thank you.”

As you go back to cook your own breakfast, you smile down at it, “Obviously you haven’t watched my games.”

“I was fifteen.” she objects, “I watched them. What I mean, is that I’m afraid you’ll become a murdering machine again.”

“That’s what all the victors are, not just me. Look back at anyone’s games from this district and you’ll see that.” you pop a strawberry into your mouth, “And it’s not like there’s much to lose, either.”

“This big old house?” she proposes, “Me?”

Tanith has uncomfortably clung onto you like a parental figure. She came straight from the foster care herself, an orphan. Academy took her when she turned eight, because obviously no one would miss her. She was just as deadly as you were, when she turned seventeen. You hand picked her yourself, even though there were ‘better candidates’ for it.

She’s your first winner, like how Zavian is your second. You were sure to keep him out of the same games with Tanith, knowing that it would screw the whole system. You’re fond of them equally, but unlike Zavian--who was eager to get away from you as fast as possible--Tanith has stuck around.

Take today as one of the many examples.

“I like how the house was your first priority to say.”

“You speak about this place like it’s a home base.” she reasons, “You seem to like it more than me, what can I say?”

You go ahead and plate all of your food, turning off the stove but leaving the pan. If you put it under water so soon, the metal will warp from the temperature change, and ruin it. It won’t sit right ever again.

You stand opposite of Tanith, leaning against the counter as you eat, “I wouldn’t say I like it more than you, that seems like an overstatement.” you decide to change the conversation, bored of this one, “Should I be worried about anyone else coming to visit?”

“Enobaria was.” Tanith says, picking at her egg, “She wanted to come and be the one to harass you about volunteering. I told her that I’d take the blow.”

“Smart girl.” you say, stabbing your fork into your egg, walking as the yolk runs out, and straight to your toast. The berries are long gone, “Well, I guess she’ll find out when I volunteer.”

“What’s the point of it, anyway?” she asks, “I mean, you have everything you could have wanted, right?”

“You and I don’t think the same.” you say, “You remind me of myself, back when I was on my victory tour.”

She gives you a confused look, “Is that compliment?”

“I’m more or less calling you humble.”

“Thanks…”

“And mushy, you’re an overthinker. You like the simple things, you won and now you’re done, right? You’re not bothered by the fact that you’re just another face, another name among this crowd of victors.” you take your time eating between sentences, “Me, on the other hand--who would give up the opportunity to be a living legend?”

She hums, nodding a little bit, not knowing what to say. It’s a rhetorical question, there’s a ton of people that have passed on this. But the idea is way too tempting. Possibly double the cash, and you literally get put into the books for not surviving once, but twice? The Capitol citizens love you now, wait until later.

You finish your breakfast quickly, taking your and Tanith’s plate as you move over to the sink, running water over them. Next, you go ahead and place the pan in there too.

“I’ve got to get ready, are you sticking around?”

“I should report back to Enobaria.” Tanith says, you can hear the chair again, “I could come back later with Emi, if you want.”

“Whatever.” you say, heading towards the staircase, “Don’t worry about me too much, kid. I’m unbreakable so far.”

“So far.” She echos.

There’s no goodbye as you go up. By now, your hair is pretty dry. In the bathroom attached to your bedroom, you go ahead and get ready now. You brush your hair, blow dry only a little bit, and then straighten. When you’re done with that, you curl and hairspray.

By the time you’ve moved onto makeup, Tanith is back with Emi already. Emi is older than the both of you, but she has more experience when it comes to some things. She picks out the jewelry for you, and does some of the harder parts of your makeup. The both of them work together to get you into the dress, and then help with the shoes too.

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, you double check everything, asking yourself if this is what you want. With a few more turns, you decide that you’re going to get praise for the outfit choice. The Capitol will be impressed with how dressed up you got for it. Others might see it as some joke.

You have about thirty minutes before the reaping, which is when you go to leave the house. It isn’t until you’ve stopped at the door, when you realize that you’re missing some sort of token. You tilt your head from side to side, trying to remember what you wore in your first games.

A necklace, wasn’t it? Given to you by your then-boyfriend. He later broke up with you because of your performance inside of the games, which he wasn’t expecting at all in the slightest. Because of this, you kept the necklace as a reminder, it’s tortuous, and you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it now.

“What are you waiting for?” Emi finally asks.

“I need a token.” you tell her, still staring at the staircase, distracted.

“Earrings, necklace, bracelet…” Emi urges slightly, “Ring?”

“No.” you tell her, “Wait--yes for the necklace.”

Your hand finds it, already dangling around your neck. Another gift, Tanith. Some souvenir she had gotten from the Capitol during her visit after she won. This will please her.

“Never mind, it’s on me.”

You leave the house, closing the door with a slam, since it’s a bit shifty when it comes to closing. After that, you wait at the bottom of the steps with the other two, watching as people come out of their houses, one by one. In no time, you’re all walking towards the stage in one big herd.

“Not everyone can visit you, but I definitely will.” Tanith says, “In the departing room, I mean.”

“Sweet.” you look over all the district people who dressed up nicely, despite the fact that they’re not going to be the ones going in. You catch the attention of a few people because of your out. You wonder if they know deep down that it’s because you’re going to volunteer.

“Zavian even agreed too. It was supposed to be a surprise but I know how you feel about them.”

It’s like showing up uninvited. Like her being inside of your house without any prior warning. You guess that’s somewhat your fault too, since you hadn’t talked to anyone yesterday. You were too amped up about today. It’s funny to you, that you were allowed to feel excited yesterday, but so unmotivated today.

Maybe your soulmate was full of anxiety this morning.

“Wanna know something cool?” you ask Tanith.

“Sure.” She looks over at you, but you’re still staring off at everyone you pass.

“I think I actually do have a soulmate.”

Tanith gasps, covering her mouth. You look over at her, confused by the reaction, until you realize that it was genuine excitement, “Really? That’s good news! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrug, “Didn’t see it as important. Haven’t heard anything from them in a long time, so I thought they were as good as dead.”

“It’s good news.” Tanith looks happy for you, “I wish I’d come across mine already.”

She looks down at her wrist, running her finger over the words.

“You’ve got plenty of time.” you tell her.

“Says you. You were so worried about it.” Tanith says, and before you can object, she adds: “Come on, admit it already.”

You give an exasperated sigh, “I suppose.”

She smiles a bit.

Tanith helps you up the staircase to the stage, which almost looks brand new. It isn’t though, it’s just pristine clean. Unlike the other districts, two is highly loved. Which means that the entire district is rich, except for a select few who were born in the poorer part of the district to begin with.

It just means that everything looks nice. The stage is white, it hardly had dirty footprints. You watch as some comes across with a broom to brush off the dirt after everyone has stepped onto the stage.

District Two is practically a second Capitol.

This year, no one sits in chairs. The girls stand on the right, in the back stand the tallest, and the front stand the shortest. You’re fairly tall, you’re able to see over most people’s heads. Most of the girls in the district manage to be short anyway, it was just the genes that you inherited that allowed you to be tall.

You’re given an easy escape route, the same as Enobaria as a backup. If your name is called, no one is allowed to volunteer over you. However, if you don’t volunteer fast enough, then that leaves it up to grabs. There’s a whole list of people that are dying to be able to go back inside.

Two people sit in chairs, waiting for everyone to file in and get comfortable below the stage. The first is the governor, a woman you’re not that fond of. She got on your nerves back when you had won your games. Back then, you were taking a lot of trips to the Capitol to have work done on your body. She was getting irritated about it.

The second person that sits next to the governor, is the district representative. A short man with loud opinions. He’s one of those people that you wouldn’t mind being thrown inside of the arena with. He’d likely be torn apart like the tributes are a pack of wolves.

He thinks of you guys as used tissues. There’s been a couple of times when you’ve gotten in his face because of what he said. Nearly shredded him right then and there in front of a few peacekeepers and tributes. If people think you’re scary normally, then they haven’t seen you angry.

It’s a disappointment that he is the district rep. You wish he would jump off a cliff and die.

Once everyone is in their respective places, the governor gives her speech that she gives every year. It’s the one about the dark days, a required speech. In the group of girls, you whisper the words in harmony. After she wraps it up, the rep moves forward.

His name is Theo, a boring name. Unbearably common and simple. You thought the Capitol people were supposed to be extravagant. This man is a disappointment in more than one way, it turns out.

“Happy hunger games!” His voice is what you’d like to also describe as ‘average’. Not deep, not high pitched. Average, “Let’s start with ladies first, shall we?”

As if it’s a question any of you are allowed to answer. You know someone in this group--mainly Sorcha--is dying to yell back ‘actually no, we shall not’ just to see his reaction. Forget the tributes being seen as monkeys, the Capitol people’s reactions are just as entertaining.

He sticks his white-gloved hand into the bowl, spinning his finger around while he puckers his face. He’s likely thinking, ‘Which one looks the most presentable?’

‘It doesn’t matter!’ you want to yell back, ‘I’m volunteering either way!’

It’s building up unnecessary tension. You scowl, eyes glued to his hand as he finally picks a damn slip of paper. He pulls it out, his suit sleeve nearly clipping the mouth of the bowl, and goes back over to the expensive microphone. He pulls off the black tape, and reads over the name.

“Tanith Nuova!” he smiles widely, looking over towards the girl section.

How funny, your own tribute getting called out. It’s a sign. If you didn’t have your mind made up before, you do now.

“I volunteer!” your voice rings out, no one is surprised.

You slide out of the section of girls, along the way, Tanith holds out her hand, and you slap it for a high-five. A small smirk appears over your face as you gracefully go to where you need to stand. One look at the choir of girls, and you can see that you’re nowhere near out of place with how you’re dressed. Plenty of people look like they’re also ready to head back to the Capitol.

Theo doesn’t look too thrilled, his face puckers again as he heads to the microphone, “(Y/n) Rosecelli for our girl.”

He moves over to the boys now, doing the exact same thing that he did the first time. You glare at him out of annoyance. You manage to catch the eyes of Brutus to see he’s shifting on his feet, clearly fed up with this too.

Theo finally gets to the point of it, “Cobalt Struyk--”

He barely gets out the last name when Brutus’ voice overpowers him, “I volunteer.”

Brutus comes over, standing in front of the boys bowl. Theo, scowling and hinting at the beginning of a temper tantrum, motions to the two of you, not even bothering to introduce Brutus.

You hold your hand out for Brutus, and he gives you a smirk as he takes it. Once you have a hold of each other, you turn towards the cameras, holding up your intertwined fingers, a giant grin on the both of your faces.

Two volunteers, it’s unsurprising to the entire nation. They’re expecting volunteers, but they definitely weren’t anticipating those who would step forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Quarter Quell!” Theo says after he managed to pull himself together. He skips the bit about shaking hands, and the two of you are then escorted off of the stage.

You begin in the direction of the departing room, noticing how the peacekeepers follow you and Brutus tightly. By the time you get to the building, Tanith and Zavian are already there, in your room.

“What’s with them being so stuffy?” you ask once the door shuts behind you.

“I heard a few districts are getting out of hand.” Zavian leans on the arm of the couch, “I guess it’s better safe than sorry.”

Another reason why you don’t like that Katniss girl, look at the mess she’s made of everything. It was fine before she came along, fucked up the process. Should’ve gotten over the fact that both of them couldn’t win. It’s not like Peeta was a use anyway. Like you’ve said before, deadweight on her fragile, little girl shoulders.

“Well, this is goodbye.” Zavian says, “Thanks for mentoring me.”

Tanith elbows him, giving him a glare, “You could at least be a little sympathetic, douchebag.”

He raises his eyebrows, “That’s a new one, what else are you gonna call me?”

For a second, they’re staring at each other. And then, Tanith grabs her arm like it’s going to detach itself. You watch in awe as she holds it out, looking down at the words.

“Oh, this is unbelievable.” Tanith now looks like her arm can detach, “I’ve been paired with a moron.”

Zavian doesn’t look that phased, taking one look at his arm, and then shrugging. Almost like nothing that went on in front of you, actually happened, he looks at you again, “Good luck in there, you’ll need it. Twenty-three people to fend off? May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Tanith isn’t very good at brushing it off, but she knows her time is limited. She comes over, holding her arms out like a child. You hug her, for her own sake and squeeze her tightly.

“Will you actually use the necklace as a token?” she asks.

“Well, I need something.” you say, “It’s better than nothing.”

“I’ll be rooting for you.” She pulls away, “Thank you for being the greatest person, ever.”

“Cheesy, she hates it.” Zavian comments, laughing a little to himself, “Look at the look on her face.”

Tanith pretends not to hear him, “I know she’s not fond of affection but--” she backs away entirely, “--you should know that a lot of the victors do like you. Truly. Sorcha and a few of the other’s won’t say it, but they love you. We all do.”

You give her a smile, “Thanks.”

“I’ll send anything that you need.” she says, “Make plenty of allies. Be ruthless.”

She’s quoting you. Those are the exact words you said to her last, before she was off to the hovercraft. It’s funny how they’ve stuck with her this long. They must echo inside of her mind like an empty chamber.

“I will, I promise.” you take in a deep breath.

The doors open, “Time’s up, time for the train.”

You look over the two people that decided to visit you, and you open your arms one last time. Tanith comes over willingly, and it takes Zavian a moment before he realizes that it’s extended to him too.

“You two are my pride and joys. Two of my biggest achievements, really. I’ll be back soon, and then you guys can praise me all you want.”

“Get off of me.” Zavian laughs, pushing away now.

“Bye.” you tell them firmly, before turning around and heading towards the peacekeepers.

One of them presses their hand to your lower back, guiding you to the car where Theo and Brutus await. Theo goes in first, since he’s royalty. Next is you, and Brutus nearly weighs the entire car down when he steps inside.

Theo begins muttering about something, you’re not entirely sure if you’re supposed to be listening or not. You want to tell him to shut up, but Brutus beats you to it. Theo glares, you can see him mouth the word ‘ungrateful’ and then stares out of the window for the rest of the time.

When the ride is over, you purposely hold onto Brutus, making him wait, “Open the door for us, Theo.”

He looks over like you just insulted his mother, “Huh?”

“I said, open the door for us. This is our spotlight, after all.” you motion, “Go ahead, before the peacekeepers do it first.”

Brutus is smiling, and he pushes Theo towards the door forcefully. Theo doesn’t like this in the slightest, popping open the door, and holding it open for you and Brutus. Brutus lets you go first, and you step out of the car carefully, holding onto your dress.

Out of the car now, Theo leads you up to the train station. Around you guys are a bunch of peacekeepers still, getting you up to the platform, and then taking on an automatic position behind you guys.

You take your time, waving with a smile at the thought of the fact that the next time you’ll be here, you’re going to be a two-timed victor.

–

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