#johanna mason x yn

[ilguna]

Could I get a soulmate AU Johanna mason x victor reader enemies to lovers? like they spend the entire time hating each other just to find out when they’re in district 13 that they’re each other’s soulmates? even after they find out reader is still reluctant with not wanting to talk to Johanna but Johanna kinda trying to make an effort cause she’s seeing her differently now thank u & congratulations on 3k follows

☼ falling leaves (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, johanna's mean and self-centered, mild name calling.

wc; 4.7k

notes; enjoy all angst, no happy ending.

--

When it comes to being delusional, Johanna Mason takes the cake. 

There has not been one conversation you’ve unwillingly had with her where you didn’t think that she’s crazy. The way she holds herself and blatantly disrespects the people around her as if she has some sense of superiority is absolutely mindblowing. It’s like she has yet to realize that all of you are in the same shitty boat, regardless of how you may or may not have won your Games.

If you had to guess, you’d say it has something to do with the popularity and how you handled it. It wasn’t outrageous or anything, at least you don’t think so. It was a normal reaction. You did what any other sane tribute would do in an outlying district that found themselves with every pair of eyes in the Capitol—you wholly and completely embraced the people. 

Every move you made was catered to them, that way if you were in need in the arena, you’d be able to get exactly what you wanted. This would come with consequences later on, but you didn’t know that, and you don’t really care now, either. As long as you got the advantage and a sliver of a chance of making it out alive, you didn’t care.

And with you feeding into the fire with your cooperation, you easily ended up being the most popular tribute, surpassing the Careers. That was far from your goal, you flew a little bit too close to the sun, which got you this massive target on your back. 

Still, you persevered. You let the Careers hate you, minded your own business, gaining sponsors by the minute. When you received a score of seven, they took a step back. In your interview with Caesar, you drew them back in by talking about how glamorous the Capitol is. If there was one thing you learned, it was that they were a sucker for compliments. Whatever made them feel better.

Well, it worked. All of it. You won the Hunger Games two and a half weeks in. The hardest part was shaking the Careers long enough to split them up and frame a betrayal, which never should have worked. They turned on each other, forgetting about your existence, until there was one left. He was too injured to win, anyway. You picked him off, and your announcement came five minutes later.

You continued to sing praises in the Capitol’s direction up until your Victory Tour, where you were finally able to stop when you got home to District Eleven. You were no longer important enough to focus on, allowing you to settle into victor life. And every time someone asked you if you really thought the Capitol was so great, through a bright smile you’d tell them no.

You met Johanna the following year, and from the very second she laid eyes on you, you knew that the two of you were not going to get along. Her face was twisted, eyes narrowed in your direction. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and she was standing with Finnick Odair.

You remember thinking to yourself, this is not victor solidarity. How could they judge you for a strategy that worked? It wasn’t at all what you were expecting from a pair of people that had suffered the way you had. Especially when they were the talk of the Capitol, themselves. 

You came to the realization that you had survived the Hunger Games, but you’d never stop living with the scrutiny of your win for the rest of your life. No matter where you’d go or who you’d talk to, everyone would have an opinion. They’d either think it was smart or a blatant cheap shot.

They would never stop to think that they had come into the Capitol with a different list of things they were willing to do. If they wanted to leave with dignity, if they were fine seeming shallow, if they would settle for nothing less than tough, if they wanted to be a nobody.

For Johanna, you quickly figured out that she wasn’t going to let them help her. She wanted to figure it out on her own, and she did. She downplayed herself to make it seem like she wasn’t a threat. By crying through the reaping and the Tribute Parade, she ensured the idea that she was soft.

When it came to training, she purposely failed at everything she touched to make her seem weak. After scoring a three, all the remaining potential sponsors flew out the window, furthering her agenda. No one would think twice about her, not even the tributes. They wouldn’t have a need to hunt her down in the arena, because she was helpless.

She couldn’t have planned it any better. She hid and waited for a bulk of the tributes to be dead before she decided it was time to show off who she really was. And that was smart and brutal. With there being so little people left, she was able to take out the remaining tributes in less than a week, and was promptly crowned victor.

Her cowardly act was dropped in the interviews that followed. You remember seeing them in passing, noting how she was barely able to hide her distaste for the Capitol. At the time, you thought about how if you were in her shoes, you wouldn’t be as openly hateful.

And as if it were a test, you were reaped the next summer.

It’s just an odd experience to be shunned so heavily by her and Finnick. You expected it more from the Career mentors, but Cashmere, Gloss and Enobaria were so welcoming. They didn’t care where you were from, just the fact that you managed to get their level of popularity coming from nothing.

You suppose that didn’t help your case. Still, that shouldn’t have mattered, anyway. You all won in your own respectable ways. You used the sponsors until they were dry, Johanna pretended to be a damsel, and Finnick won young by trapping tributes in his net and stabbing them with his trident.

She’s been caught on your actions ever since. Despite the fact that you’re merely a year younger than her, or that you’re not the same person you were for the Games, she can’t see past the fact that you threw yourself into the Capitol’s arms. In fact, she called you childish for it.

When you heard that through the grapevine, you knew that any hope of friendship between you two was gone. You wanted to give her time to realize that you’re not a terrible person, but if she was going to start to go down that path, you weren’t going to entertain her. She could be who she wanted to be, you’d just have a pole to keep her at a distance.

It worked for a couple of years, and then it washed down the drain when the Quarter Quell came around. Chaff told you that if you wanted to go back into the arena, you’d have to be willing to help. If not, Seeder would go in instead. As much as you would’ve liked to stay home, you knew that you couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Seeder would be a better leader in District Eleven, and you’d be more helpful in the arena.

When you learned that you’d have to work alongside Johanna and Finnick, you began to regret it. Johanna’s entitled, all she does is run her mouth. She likes to push buttons—yours especially, because she knows that you’re trying to be better than her. It was a tragedy when you accidentally found her in the jungle, because you’d rather deal with Finnick. At least his comments are passive-aggressive.

Besides Johanna’s attempts to piss you off, the arena was surprisingly easy to get through. You ignored her, only speaking to Finnick when it was necessary. You’re sure it was glaringly obvious to Katniss and Peeta that you and Johanna hated each other, but that didn’t get in the way.

And while not everyone made it out of the arena, you did. A nasty period of survivor’s guilt followed, because it wasn’t easy knowing that the ones who got taken by the Capitol were being tortured. It should’ve been you with them, because you’d left Johanna early to make it back to the lightning tree before midnight.

She has not let you live that down. It’s all she talks about—how you abandoned her and Peeta to save your own life. She’s called you every bad name that she can think of to anyone who will listen. Her favorite one being selfish. That one comes out of her mouth so often that it sounds foreign to you now. 

It’s funny, because Finnick nearly did the same thing. He initially left the tree to find you, Katniss and Johanna because the wire snapped. And when he realized he wasn’t going to find any of you in time, he started to go back to the tree after he heard Katniss shouting for Peeta. By the time you got there, Katniss had already shot the arrow at the dome, and they were all paralyzed on the floor.

No matter how many times you bring this up to her, on the occasions you feel like arguing, she tells you that it’s different. Finnick was doing his job by going to save the Mockingjay. And that he was to guard the tree with Beetee, anyway. It made sense for him to go back to it.

You know you dig your grave a little further each time you throw Finnick under the bus, but you refuse to be held to a higher standard. It’s hypocrisy, because he’s her best friend, and she’s wearing rose tinted glasses when it comes to him. Sometimes you contemplate how much trouble you’d get in for wringing her neck, and then you wonder if you’ll earn an ounce of respect from her for doing it.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” A voice says.

You jump, pulling the top of the jumpsuit to your chest as you turn to see who it is that’s intruding. It’s Finnick, of course. He’s standing in the doorway of your assigned room, which you occupy alone. They had tried to make him your roommate, because from the surface it looked like you got along. 

It didn’t work out for multiple reasons. The main one being that he had so many breakdowns from his girlfriend being in the Capitol that he repeatedly got sent back to the hospital to be monitored. They kept his name on the plate next to the door with yours for a few weeks, but ultimately took it down when it was apparent that he wasn’t going to be stable enough to be on his own. 

And now that Annie is here in District Thirteen, he lives in a room with her.

“So is knocking not a custom in District Four?” You ask, face twisted. “Or are you a creep?”

Finnick’s eyebrows shoot up, and then he lets out a laugh. “I did knock, I thought you heard me.”

“Clearly not.” You snap, pulling your arms through the top of the jumpsuit. You button the front, looking over him. “And my tattoos are none of your concern.”

He ignores what you’ve said. “Did you get them in the Capitol?”

You press your lips together. “Where else would I have gotten them?”

He makes a face. “I don’t know, District Eleven?”

“We have more Peacekeepers than any of the districts combined, and you think we have tattoo parlors?” You ask. “And one of them is my soulmate mark, so it doesn’t count.” 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t know how to have fun.”

You glare. “What do you want?”

He takes in a breath. “You’re needed in Command.”

You sigh, motioning for Finnick to lead the way. He happily turns around in the doorway, heading out. You shut the door behind you, following him to the elevator. 

“Which tattoo is your soulmate mark?” Finnick asks.

“None of your business.” You tell him, trying to shut him down.

“Mine is this one.” He rolls up the sleeve on his right arm, getting it above his bicep to show you a pair of koi fish. “Annie has the same one.”

“I figured.” You mutter.

“Is it the one on your back left shoulder?” 

It is, he probably got a good view of it while you were trying to get dressed. You’re not sure how he came to the conclusion it’s that one in particular, because you have a group of tattoos on your back. It was advised for you to keep your front half clean for pictures. No one would want a picture of your back.

You went with it, even though you would’ve liked to be able to see them. You convinced yourself to wait a few years before you decide to do what you want. You thought by the time the next generation of victors came out, you’d be out of the spotlight and no one would care then.

“Why does it matter?” You counter.

“I’ve never seen a soulmate tattoo that big before.” Finnick shrugs, “Usually they’re smaller.”

“Yours isn’t that small.”

“I said usually.” Finnick looks at you.

When you make it to Command, you step inside to find it as cold and dark as it normally is. There’s a group of people standing on the far side of the room, the closer you get, the better you’re able to see who it is. The most notable faces are President Coin, Plutarch Heavensbee, and Haymitch Abernathy. 

Plutarch gives you a wide smile when you stop at the table. “Here she is now.”

“There’s no telling how Peeta would react to her.” Haymitch shakes his head. “If you want him to do this, he would have to do it alone.”

“Nonsense.” Plutarch waves him off. “Tell me, (Y/n), you used to bake, right?”

Your face scrunches. “How do you know that?”

“Your Victory Tour.” He says. “You said you made cakes and pies.”

You look from him to the table, because you honestly don’t remember mentioning that during your Victory Tour. “At home, yes.”

“And for weddings and parties.” He insists.

You stare at him in bewilderment. “I guess.”

Plutarch nods, looking at Coin. “I told you that she’d fit the description.”

“What do you need cakes and pies for?” You ask, looking at Haymitch for help.

“Finnick and Annie are getting married.” He tells you. “They would like Peeta to make the cake for the wedding.”

“So why do you need me?” 

“To help.” Plutarch says, as if it’s obvious. “Peeta won’t be able to make a cake that large on his own. And the staff in the kitchen aren’t prepared to tackle this task.”

“And I am?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Peeta will be in charge.” Coin clarifies. “You’ll help.”

You turn to look at Finnick, who’s approached the table, standing between you and Plutarch. You stare at him for a long moment, thinking of all the times he was an ass to you. How you swallowed it because you wanted to be the bigger person. Yet, he’s older than you so he should know better. And he never once stepped in to stop Johanna.

You decide to cash in on your good behavior. “No.”

When you look back at Coin, she’s got a hard expression on her face, encouraging you to challenge her further. Plutarch gawks for a second. “Well, we were hoping—”

“No, I’m not doing this for them.” You shake your head. “I have nothing against Annie, but Finnick is a different story.” You motion in a circle with your hand. “He does not deserve my help.”

Finnick makes a noise of disbelief. “Why?”

“Because we’re not friends.” You deadpan. “You made that explicitly clear during my first year of mentoring—you and Johanna. And while she was smearing my name, you didn’t once think to stop her.”

Haymitch sighs, eyes on Plutarch. “I tried to explain this to you.”

“That’s petty victor drama.” Plutarch tries to brush it off. “This is for a greater purpose, we want to film a propo to show the Capitol that we’re still celebrating.”

This bothers you too, but not nearly as much as making a cake for Finnick. “If Finnick wants me to help, he’ll apologize and ask me, himself.” You look at him, “Otherwise, Peeta can make the cake on his own.”

All eyes shift to Finnick expectantly. You watch as his skin begins to turn a gentle shade of red, embarrassed. “(Y/n), I’m sorry that I didn’t help you. Will you please make a cake for Annie and I?”

A part of you wishes you could make him beg a little bit more, but for now, this is good enough. “Sure, Finnick. It would be my honor.”

—

“Peeta, I knew you baked, but I didn’t think that you were this good.” You tell him, chewing on a piece of cake that he let you try.

“Thanks.” He lets out a laugh, using the back of his hand to move a stray hair out of his face.

“You said your parents were bakers?” You ask. “How did you manage that?”

“Yes, we all were. My parents ran it, my brothers and I worked. It wasn’t easy. The only reason why people could afford it was because we had to lower our prices.” He reaches for the blue dye at the end of the counter. “It was easier to run after I won.”

“I can imagine.” You nod. “I could finally buy the ingredients I wanted, instead of working with what I had.”

Peeta drops some of the food coloring into the icing. When he decides it’s enough, he stirs the color in, and you watch as it turns from white to a dark blue. Once it’s not getting any more potent, he backs away, reaching for the towel to dust the flour off his hands before reaching to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“It’s so hot in here.” He shakes his head. “And stuffy. At the bakery, we’d open the windows to keep it from becoming a sauna.”

“There are no windows here.” You laugh. “It’s just a cement box. It’s a good thing I convinced Plutarch to give us tank tops. Could you imagine trying to work in those jumpsuits?”

He practically rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t be.”

“I don’t think you were given much of a choice.” 

“Yeah, and neither were you.” He moves to the sink to wash his hands before returning to icing the cake. 

He’s finally gotten to the final tier. It’s taken him almost two hours to do the top half with how intricate the design is. It’s a good thing that he’s talented in that aspect, all you can do is make the cake base taste good on its own. 

You yawn, chin resting on your palm while you watch him create more waves. Your eyes flicker to the guards standing in the corner, who are here just in case Peeta has another one of his moments. He’s not himself yet, there are still times where he slips and freaks out. You’re sure you had them on the edge of their seat when you mentioned the family’s bakery.

“You can go, (Y/n).” Peeta tells you, backing off to fix the pipe in his hand. “I’m probably going to be here for a while longer to make the finishing touches.”

“Are you sure? I’m fine staying to keep you company.” You offer.

“No, it’s fine. I like the quiet.” He waves you off. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “Will you be there tomorrow night for the wedding?”

“Most likely not, but feel free to visit me in the cell.”

You hold back your laugh, walking away. “I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight, Peeta.”

“Goodnight.” He murmurs.

You push the door to leave the kitchen, shutting it gently behind you. A small hallway leads you directly into the dining area, where there’s dozens of picnic tables set up to eat at during the day. At this time of night, they should all be empty, but there’s one person here, sitting at the table closest to the walkway.

Johanna.

You plan to ignore her and head straight for your room a few floors up, when she clears her throat. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You tell her, not bothering to stop. She gets to her feet.

You can hear her shoes against the floor, and then you feel a hard poke into the back of your left shoulder. “This is a problem.”

Your jaw sets as you turn quickly, grabbing her wrist. “Do not touch me.”

“When Finnick told me you had those leaves on the back of your shoulder, I didn’t believe him.” She says, face twisted. “Now that I’ve seen them, it’s different.”

You throw her arm back at her. “It’s none of your business, like I told him.”

“It is my business.” She tells you. “Considering it’s your soulmate mark.”

“Why? So you can spread rumors about that, too?” You shoot back. “I’m bulletproof, Johanna. Your words ricochet. All you’re doing is making an ass of yourself.”

“I have the same mark, idiot.” She snaps.

The insults you have sizzling on your tongue begin to die. “What?”

“The falling leaves? I have the same mark on my ribs.” She unbuttons her jumpsuit, pulling it wide open to show you the pale skin inside. By the dim light provided in the dining room, you’re able to see that she’s telling the truth.

Your face contorts. “You have to be kidding.”

“I’m obviously not.” She fixes the jumpsuit.

“That’s unfortunate.” You spit. You were hoping that you’d have someone that you could stand to be around.

“I don’t mind.” She admits.

“Well, I do.” You tell her, she locks eyes with you. “I wanted someone I actually liked and could get along with, not some egocentric asshole.”

“Egocentric.” She echoes.

“Yes, because you’re apparently better than I am, don’t you remember that? I’m inferior, you said so yourself.” You tilt your head. “I also remember you calling me pompous, and conceited, and hedonistic, and vain. And of course, your personal favorite, selfish. All words that mean the same thing, not that you’d know that.”

You throw your hands out. “Just because I had a different strategy on how to win the Hunger Games. This is actually so fucking ridiculous that it’s not funny anymore.”

Johanna stares at you, not knowing what to say.

“I mind.” You emphasize, “Now leave me alone.”

–

The next few days are a new level of torture that you’re not quite used to. It seems that word travels fast in this bunker, because you’ve heard everyone’s opinion about the matter on your hands. As if what they think will make a difference or change your mind.

The good thing is that you’re used to this treatment to a certain extent. It’s what happened while you were mentoring. Which would be amusing, if you’re not tired of being treated this way. You’re right back to being scrutinized, this time for a new scenario.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, you were informed earlier this afternoon that you’d have to participate in the wedding ceremony. Plutarch said he wasn’t going to pull you aside for an interview or demand you make a toast. He just wants you to be here, so that when they do catch you on camera, there’s a sense of camaraderie. Even if it’s clear on your face that you’d rather be elsewhere.

After working on that cake with Peeta for several days, you formed a friendship with him. You were hoping that they’d let him out so that you could talk to him throughout the wedding. They can’t risk it, not with Katniss in attendance. One wrong move and it could trigger him into another attack.

You’ve settled for blending in somewhere in the middle of the crowd. You’re keeping close to the front so you seem interested in the traditional dancing, but far away enough to the point you’ll be easily looked over. And you’re keeping your distance from Johanna, who’s still by the chairs on the other side of the room, because she hasn’t let the soulmate thing go. 

She wants to fix what she broke, not caring that you’re uninterested. Maybe if she knew how to treat people with dignity, it wouldn’t have gone this far. Instead, she chose to make assumptions about you and ran with it. While telling the people around her that her beliefs are true.

You can’t stand her.

When the crowd comes to a lull, they decide to bring out the cake, the only thing you were still here for. You wanted to see the reactions of the people around you, that way you’d be able to report it back to Peeta later on. While you might not have done much besides building the foundation, he did a fantastic job of making sure that not a single detail was missed on that cake. He deserves every ounce of praise.

There’s gasps, low murmurs. They don’t announce who made and decorated the cake, only that it had taken the two of you days to complete it on time. Once Finnick and Annie have cut out their slice, you quietly slip out of the room, wanting to go back to your bed, tired after the long day.

You don’t even make it a step before the door is opening behind you. You glance over your shoulder to see who it is, and see that it’s one of the many random people that were selected to participate.

“You’re a loyalist, aren’t you?” He asks, tone threatening.

“Excuse me?” You ask, slowing down.

“That’s why you kiss-ass when it comes to the Capitol.” He’s walking in your direction. “Always defendin’ them.”

District Twelve. The people of Thirteen don’t cut corners with words, a lot of the people of Katniss and Peeta’s district do, whether they realize it or not.

“I don’t defend the Capitol.”

“Your interviews said otherwise.” 

“Those were done years ago.” Your face twists. “I was a teenager when I was being asked those questions.”

“That doesn’t change anythin’. My skin crawls just knowin’ you’re sleepin’ on the same floor as me.”

“Then sleep on a different floor.” You tell him through gritted teeth. “You have a problem with something that isn’t even real. If I was a loyalist, would I have helped the rebels get Katniss out of the arena?”

“You left them behind.”

You roll your eyes, unable to help it. You were hoping you’d be through with this, but it seems as if Johanna’s words will continue to follow you. And now, they’re going to get you into some questionable situations. They aren’t dangerous for you, though. It is for him, coming up to you like this. You’ll flatten him on the concrete.

You take a step toward him, planning to teach him some manners when the door opens behind him, stopping you. Johanna’s face is screwed tight. “Leave her alone.”

The man scoffs. “I’d be doin’ us a favor, gettin’ rid of her.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She snaps, striding forward to grab him, yanking him back. “If you so much as lay a finger on her, I’ll break every bone in your body.”

The tone of voice keeps him from pressing her further, raising his hands in defeat. He gives you a look before twisting out of her grasp, going back to join the party. 

You eye Johanna for a second, “I don’t need your help.”

“I know.” She heads for the door. “Doesn’t mean I won’t step in.”

You catch the look she sends your way before leaving the hallway. If this is what she plans to do in order to make you forgive her, she’ll be doing it for the rest of her life, because it’s practically meaningless to you.

Still, you suppose that you can give her some credit for trying.

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x yn #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x y/n #johanna x yn #thg #the hunger games #3k celebration #anon #ask #request #angst

[heartss4val]

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ DATING JOHANNA MASON | gender not specified, but fem!aligned.

johanna mason, whose preferred love language is being an asshole. (affectionately)

johanna mason, whose walls always remain up after her two experiences in the arena, but somehow crumble involuntarily when she's around you.

johanna mason, who lets you touch up the cherry red streaks in her hair, standing between your legs while you sit on the countertop, face cradled in your hands as you coat every strand of hers with the color.

johanna mason, whose eyes flicker from sharp and piercing to ever so soft as her gaze lands on you.

johanna mason, who talks of future plans with you during the games should she not survive the quarter quell, dreaming of the house you would have bought and the life you would have shared if it weren't for the corruption of the capitol.

johanna mason, who teaches you how to wield an axe, her scarred hands cradling yours as she guides you through the motions.

johanna mason, who tends a nasty gash on your arm after your attempt at wielding said axe.

johanna mason, who scolds you for attempting to use her axe and mocks your 'stupidity', as if she hadn't been totally terrified just seconds earlier.

johanna mason, who's the black cat to your golden retriever.

johanna mason, who lets you call her by all the cheesy nicknames you wish—nicknames that she would rather die than hear come from anyone else's mouth. johanna mason, who feigns disapproval of such affectionate names, but you can see the slight upturn of her lips whenever you address her by one.

johanna mason, who is constantly afraid of you leaving her, due to her snappy and impatient personality that she uses as a defense mechanism to cover up the vulnerability and trauma that lies underneath. johanna mason, who has never let you know about her insecurities, but maybe she'll let it slip as the years go by.

johanna mason, who's a total winter bug and immediately clings to you the second the temperature drops. latching onto your leg and gazing up at you with red, puffy eyes and a runny nose as she suffers through the flu, begging for you to stay with her when you try to go brew her some tea.

johanna mason, who smiles a lot more when you're around. and not her usual cynical 'i'm lowkey judging you' smile, but a quirk-lipped smirk that appears every time you enter the room.

johanna mason, who wakes up thrashing and trembling in the middle of the night, as the nightmares of her time in the capitol continue to haunt her even after she escaped. she either clings onto you for dear life, needing to feel your touch, or pushes you away completely, struggling to come to grips with her reality.

johanna mason, who holds you firmly against her when you both go back to sleep, her eyes unblinking for the first few hours because she needs the reassurance that she isn't dreaming and that you won't leave her.

johanna mason, who whispers to you in your sleep, telling you how much you mean to her because there's no way she can be this soft when you're awake.

in conclusion, johanna mason. that's it.

©heartss4val — do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

#johanna mason #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x you #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #johanna x you #thg #the hunger games #fluff #catching fire #johanna mason imagine

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 13)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Trigger warning: discussions of trauma surrounding ‘desirable victors’ and mentions of sex.

Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve

The tribute parade is a glimmer of hope after a losing streak. Capitol citizens screaming and chanting for Katniss as the chariots are drawn out for display. Even the elites are vying to sponsor the star crossed lovers, who saved their mentors and the sweet little baby in Y/N’s womb.

There is no waving or smiling this year, at Cinna’s request.

“Way to make friends out there, you two.” Haymitch waves over Peeta and Katniss once they dismount the carriage.

“Well, we learned from the best,” Katniss shoots back.

“I want to introduce you to some special friends of mine, this is Chaff and Seeder.”

Seeder smiles in acknowledgment.

While Chaff closes the distance between them, giving Katniss a kiss on each cheek; then pulling away in a fit of laughter.

She is caught off guard, dismay painted across her features.

“He’s very friendly.” Haymitch chuckles, clapping his friend once on the back. “But don’t invite him over, he’ll drink up all your liquor.”

Y/N approaches with Cashmere and Gloss in tow, as if Finnick introducing himself with the sugar cube, before the parade, hadn’t been enough.

“There she is,” Chaff opens his arms, “come here.”

Y/N smiles, slinking around the side to greet him, for what might be the last time.

“It’s good to see you, baby.” He tells her, in earnest. For a minute there, I thought you were coming in with us.

“Good to see you.” She pulls away, giving Seeder a quick hug. Tears welling up in her eyes, without permission.

The older woman taps her chin, when they break apart. “Don’t you cry.”

“We wanted to come introduce ourselves,” Cashmere explains. “I’m Cashmere, this is my brother, Gloss.”

“We’ve heard nothing but good things.” Peeta says, truthfully.

“Pleasure,” Gloss grins, extending a hand to Peeta, allowing his sister to mirror the gesture with Katniss. Moving in perfect synchronization, like a well oiled machine.

“And to thank you,” Cashmere squeezes Katniss’ hand.

“For what?” Katniss wonders.

“Saving my friend.”

You love her too. The realization sits heavy in Katniss’ chest.

“Alright, let’s go get some of that makeup off you.” Haymitch spares Katniss from farther floundering.

They move into the elevator, just the victors of district twelve, until a hand slips in to stop the doors from closing.

Johanna she struts in with a heavy sigh, pressing the button for the seventh floor. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Katniss responds, under her breath.

“My stylist is an idiot.” Johanna tosses her bracelets to the ground. “District seven, lumber…I’d love to bury my axe in her face.” She shuffles closer to Peeta, moving her, long, red, ponytail over her shoulder. “Unzip?”

“Sure.” Peeta stammers, earning him a death glare from Katniss.

Johanna does not look away as she strips down to nothing, without preamble.

Katniss’ mouth is slightly ajar, Peeta’s lips set in a nervous smile.

“Not in front of the children,” Y/N gasps, rushing to hold a hand over both sets of eyes.

“Come on, you know you like this.” Johanna chirps, playfully.

“I remember when mine used to sit up like that.” Y/N cranes her neck to meet Johanna’s gaze, “enjoy it.”

“Cry me a river, you’re a walking wet dream.” Johanna rolls her eyes.

Haymitch is strangely silent, enjoying their banter.

Whether they are fighting or flirting, Katniss cannot tell. In any event, she’s glad when the elevator dings on the seventh floor.

“That was fun, let’s do it again sometime.” Johanna grins, quite pleased with herself as she exits.

“Johanna Mason, district seven.”

————————————————————————

“Explain to me exactly how this is going to work.” Y/N whispers, beneath the spray of the water.

Whoever is tasked with monitoring the audio from their room, in the tribute center, must think they have the highest libidos in Panem. Though they are here to exchange information, they are also in the shower, nude, at very close proximity.

“Plutarch has access to the trackers, he can override the information.” Haymitch allows his eyes to close, at the feel of familiar fingers in his hair. “Cannon goes off while the tribute is still alive. They are extracted by the crane, from the hovercraft, same as always. One by one. Ideally, Katniss and Peeta near the end, Snow will want to see their bodies for himself. By the time he realizes what’s happened, everybody is safe, underground, in thirteen.”

“What about twelve? First thing he’ll do is retaliate.”

“We have open lines of communication, we’ll be able to warn them.”

Y/N nods, in understanding. His lips are on hers then and they are no longer pretending.

————————————————————————

Keeping this secret from Katniss and Peeta is easier than Y/N anticipated. They assume she is distancing herself out of self preservation, reverting to the calculated woman they’d met on the train last year. Neither of them blame her.

They score twelves during individual assessment, painting even larger targets on their backs. And tonight, the last night before the games, they are prepping for their interviews with Caesar.

Katniss is almost certain that the master of ceremonies will ask about her volunteering. She does not regret it, even now, she would do it again in a heartbeat. No one deserves a happy ending more than you. Katniss hates that she is being laced back into Y/N’s wedding dress.

“I think you’re going to be happy with the alterations.” Cinna fluffs up the layers of fabric.

Haymitch downs his drink, drowning the vision of his sweet girl in the dress; squeezing his fingers when it hurt too much. The way she shook like a leaf beneath him, “it’s just you and me.” She is still after that, steady; allowing him to bring her pleasure she has never known.

Crying when it is finished, because he locked himself in the bathroom to vomit. Sick over what he had done to keep her safe, while she thought he was disgusted by something she’d done.

Apologizing profusely when he returns. “Haymitch, I- I was just nervous. Not because of you…I’m sorry it wasn’t, I’m sorry you didn’t like it. I’ll do better next time.”

His heart seizes, thrumming to an unbearable ache. “It’s nothing you did. Please never think that I-” Haymitch stumbles over the words. Evidence of his ‘enjoyment’ is mixed with her blood on the sheets, rolling forth a fresh wave of nausea. “Like you said, it’s not because of you. It’s everything else.” Snow and the cameras and-

Y/N knows how much he’s already given up, the deals he made for her. “I still want it to be real someday.”

Their marriage, their love story.

“You tell me when it’s real, and I’ll ask you to marry me again.” No more rushing, no more bullshit.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Haymitch swears. I’m getting you out of here. No matter how long it takes, I’m getting you out.

They are no longer in that room, trapped beneath the mechanical whirl of the cameras. They are here, with Y/N’s arms around his waist, one hand resting over his heart. Holding him where it hurts, because she understands him better at thirty than she could at nineteen. This dress is a prison, he hopes the girl on fire lights it up.

“These victors are angry, Katniss. They’ll say anything to try and stop the games, I suggest you do the same.”

When it is her turn to be interviewed, the audience is enamored at the sight.

“Welcome, Katniss Everdeen!” Caesar is humming with excitement. “Look at you, absolutely stunning.”

“Don’t go crying on me now, Caesar.” Katniss retorts.

“Oh, you know I can’t help it.”

“You know I wouldn’t believe you even if you did.”

“Ah ha ha, the girl on fire, so cheeky. I love it. Now, Katniss…on a more serious note, we’re all here a little disappointed, well more than a little, that a certain wedding will not be taking place.” Caesar laments, sharing his sorrow with the nation. “But here you are, in Y/N’s dress, the dress you would have worn. How do you think she feels, seeing you on stage tonight?”

“I hope that…” Katniss exhales. “I hope that she’s proud of me.” She searches beyond the blinding stage lights for Y/N, finding her in the sea of faces. She looks at Katniss the same way she always has, with love, sadness; something more. Perhaps it is pride.

“Awww.”

“I know she is,” Caesar nods. “It has been so beautiful to watch your story, to see this family you found. How you volunteered, first for your little sister and then to save your mentor. You are incredible. Would you do us the honor?”

The twirling.

Katniss finds Cinna, beside Y/N and Haymitch, catching his eye. He gives the go ahead and she begins to turn. The skirt of her dress igniting into flames, leaving a black and gray design in its wake. As fire reaches the top, it has transformed completely. Feathers at her shoulders spread with her arms. Wings.

The crowd rises from their seats, her mentors and stylist among them. Cinna has an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “for both of you.”

“Thank you,” she leans into him.

“It’s like….it’s like a-a bird! Like a-” Caesar racks his brain.

“Like a mockingjay,” Katniss finishes for him.

“Your stylist has certainly outdone himself. Cinna, take a bow.” Caesar turns the camera’s focus to the audience.

Cinna kisses his hand and holds it up, sending all his love to Katniss. When the applause has died down, she joins the other tributes, on the risers near the back of the stage.

Peeta is last, in a pristine white suit, designed to match his wife-to-be.

“So, Peeta, the wedding.” Caesar gets right down to business. “The marriage, never to be.”

“Actually, we got married. In secret.” Peeta says, captivating the crowd to a stunned silence.

“A secret wedding? Tell us more.”

“We want our love to be eternal, Katniss and I. We’ve been luckier than most and I wouldn’t have any regrets at all if-” Peeta breaks off. “If it weren’t…”

“If it weren’t for what, Peeta?” Caesar is all but holding his breath. “What?”

“If it weren’t for the baby.”

Once again viewers are out of their seats.

“Baby!?!”

“Tell us more.”

“Well we knew that Y/N would be too far along and we all agreed that Katniss would have a better chance.” Peeta explains.

“Stop the games!” The cry heard around the Capitol, is resurgent and in full force. The victors of district twelve have not one baby at stake, but two.

“Alright now, this is news to all of us.” Caesar reminds the audience.

Their outrage echoes off the walls. “Stop the games!”

“We’re going to find out what we do about this.” Caesars attempts to stop the riot. He leans in to Peeta, asking him to go stand with the others. “It’s a great night.”

Peeta trots up the stairs to Katniss, embracing when they meet.

“Oh, my heart.” The woman behind Y/N leans over the seat. “That’s why you tried to stop her from volunteering. Because of the baby.”

Y/N nods, sniffling for effect. “I just can’t stop thinking about the babies.”

“Don’t worry, President Snow is a good man. He’ll get this figured out.” She rubs at her back.

The victors joining hands only serves to further rally the crowd. Together they watch as the lights cut off. Leaving them all in darkness.

————————————————————————

The deliberation is long, or Snow makes it out to be. Y/N, Haymitch and Effie wait, impatiently, on the bench with the other mentors. It was a good show, with a response better than they could’ve asked for. But in the end, the games are still on.

This is more or less the outcome Peeta and Katniss were expecting. Somehow that doesn’t make it any easier to deliver the news.

Haymitch has to hand it to Peeta, “baby bomb was a stroke of genius. Unfortunately, the games are still on.”

The room is still.

“This is goodbye for now.”

“Presents,” Effie reminds them, their tokens. “Bracelets for you two.”

Y/N opens her box, revealing a slightly thinner version of the bangle her husband’s been gifted.

“And for Peeta, the medallion we talked about.”

“Thank you, Effie.” Peeta hugs her, in parting.

This year is different. Mentors will not be seeing tributes to the hovercraft, only stylists. Presumably for the districts that only had two victors to begin with.

“Thank you, Y/N.” The boy finds her next and she squishes him to her properly.

“You’re welcome,” she sighs. Stay safe.

When it is Katniss’ turn to say goodbye, the girl on fire is struck by the realization that she cannot. Instead she buries her face in the woman’s shoulder.

“You can do this, Katniss.” Y/N passes a hand over her hair, “I believe in you.”

Katniss nods, “thank you.”

The five of them remain together for a while. Katniss and Peeta splinter off first, sending them all in different directions. Effie to her room, Y/N and Haymitch to opposite floors of the tribute center.

Y/N reaches the last level before ground. Cashmere is waiting, wringing her hands. “We almost did it,” stopped the games.

“This isn’t over yet,” Y/N reminds her. “I have something for you.”

Cashmere sighs, the rebel plan is a wild one and there’s no guarantee it will work in time.

Y/N turns over the gold bangle, “Katniss knows it’s mine. As long as she sees it, she’ll honor the alliance.”

“I’ll do what I can to keep her alive…the boy too.” Cashmere assures her.

“Keep you alive too, while you’re at it.” Please.

The blonde gives her a sad smile, “you know me.”

Part 14

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109

#the hunger games fanfiction #thg haymitch #the hunger games #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy x yn #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #johanna mason

[your-averagewriter]

The Quarter Quell

Summary: (y/n) won the 63rd Hunger Games, almost twelve years ago. She won at the age of twelve making her the youngest victor ever. She's reaped for the Quarter Quell and has to leave her brother, Max, behind in District 4. Finnick and (y/n) are in an established relationship at the start of the Games. (the reader is female in this).

Includes: Violence, things involved in the Hunger Games books/movies, saying god in a non-religious way.

Word count: 2.2K

“This entire arena seems to be laid out like a clock with a new threat every hour, but they stay only within their wedge.” We walk along the line of rocks heading towards the island. We’re going to get more weapons and supplies seeing as I’ve lost all of mine and everyone seems to be running low. “It all starts with the lightning. Then the blood rain,” I was caught in that, not an enjoyable experience to say the least. “Fog, monkeys. That’s the first four hours. At 10:00, that big wave hits from over there.” She points to where I assume the wave came from.

“Wiress, you’re a genius.” Finnick who was just in front of me speeds up and walks past her.

“Look, the tail points to twelve.” Peeta points out with his machete.

“That’s where the lightning strikes at noon and midnight.” I chime in.

“Strikes where?” Beetee questions looking towards me and Katniss points it out.

“That big tree.”

“Good.” He replies. I’d be worried about him if he wasn’t my friend.

I jog straight past Finnick who stands holding his trident and I look around the Cornucopia. Most of the swords have been taken assumably by the careers. I examine the sets of knives testing them out and eventually picking a set. I move on further into the structure towards the non-weapon supplies. There’s backpacks and flasks and a bag of apples. I grab the bag of apples and rip it open, I take one for myself.

“Hey Finn, heads up.” I throw an apple towards him which he catches with a smirk before biting into it. “Jo!” I shout to her as she’s further away. She turns to me and I signal to the bag in my hand, she nods and I chuck one at her. She catches and bites into it. I place the bag on the floor making a mental note of it’s position before biting into the apple. It tastes nice, especially compared to the taste of blood. As I eat the apple I look around at the other weapons, spears, axes. I search around for better weapons but the best I find is a mace. I guess others took the better weapons.

I pick it up and smirk, it’s actually a very good mace, good weight and length good for bludgeoning and throwing I think to myself before returning back to the group. I pick up the bag with a few apples left and bring it with me. I return to Wiress still chanting nursery rhymes by the edge and everyone just standing around. But Peeta crouches down in the sand, he pulls out his machete and starts drawing in the black sand.

“So 12:00 to 1:00, lightning. Then 1:00 to 2:00 is blood. Then fog and then monkeys.”

“Then 10:00 to 11:00, the wave. What about everything else? Did you guys see anything?”

I shake my head as Wiress’s singing echoes through my head.

“Nothing but blood,” Johanna says. She was in the blood rain as well but we weren’t together.

“It doesn’t matter,” Peeta says. “As long as we steer clear of whichever sector is active, we’ll be safe.” I scoff.

“Yeah, relatively speaking,” Finnick says the obvious.

Then Wiress gasps loudly, everyone turns to her and Gloss pulls a knife out of her chest. The canon goes off and instantly Katniss shoots him in his chest, he falls and another cannon goes off. Cashmere jumps out of the water behind him with a knife. I push Katniss to the floor, out of the way and I throw the mace at her. Finnick yells as he ‘spars’ with Brutus. Finnick pushes with a trident whilst Brutus mimics him with a spear. I think her name is Enobaria. She runs around the corner yelling and tries to throw a knife at Finnick but she narrowly misses. I leap over the rocks and I chase her picking up my mace along the way. She runs back to where she came from and I follow close behind her then Brutus follows behind me. She runs along the line of rocks and I throw a couple of knives at her, one falls into the water whilst the other is lodged into her shoulder.

I glance over my shoulder and see that Brutus isn’t that far behind me, I speed up but decide that I'd be at a disadvantage chasing her so I dive into the water.

“(y/n)!” I hear Finnick’s distorted shouting under the water.

Gripping my mace and the bag of apples I swim, still submerged, towards the island but suddenly larger waves crash over me.

I swim up to get a breath and I watch as the island spins. The waves around it thrash and blind my vision, I try to swim backwards away from the island. I can hear them screaming, I think it’s Johanna, I swim away but the tides aren’t working like normal tides, it’s pulling me in more than I’m pushing away. It’s pulling me down, I take a quick breath before being dragged down.

Suddenly another figure is thrown into the water on top of me, I grunt internally as the force is indescribable. I’m sent further underwater now not even controlling my swimming, I’m spinning around being taken with the tides along with the other person. The tides get weaker but I can feel my consciousness leaving me, my breath shortening. I feel the water becoming calmer again but my body goes limp. I can hear people shouting my name but I can’t even open my eyes. I finally feel myself losing the battle with consciousness but as I do I feel a pair of arms wrap around my chest and I’m filled with more hope for my life.

I’m pulled out of the water but the shouts still sound distorted. I feel a pair of lips on mine, the feeling of warmth blessing my cold skin. I can feel the air being forced into my lungs and finally, I have the strength to breathe. I spit out some water before gasping at the overwhelming excess of oxygen. I spit out a lot of water, still laying on the floor. My eyes flutter open and I’m met with Finnick looking down at me, crouching next to me looking quite worried.

“(y/n). (y/n), thank god.” He says before sitting back on his heels. He tilts his head back breathing heavily, relieved I assume. He looks back down to me and kisses me. It’s hard and desperate almost, I can feel his worry dissipating slightly. It’s a sloppy kiss but what else could you expect it’s quick. It stops as quickly as it started. He smiles down at me.

“Can you stand?” I notice that almost everyone else is standing around me. I nod.

I sit up and he offers me his hand. I take it and stand up properly.

“7/10, do not recommend drowning.” I say slightly joking.

“Let’s just get what we need and get off this bloody island.” Johanna says scornfully. I give her a joking thumbs up before realising I don’t have my mace and that it has likely sunk. I sigh before walking over to the edge. I look over and see the glint of metal from the bottom of the sea. I roll my eyes before walking back over to the Cornucopia and grabbing a harvest knife left on one of the boxes. I walk back over to Finnick and the others, they’ve sorted themselves out.

We walk back over to the rock lines and walk back towards the beach. The island is a nightmare just like the jungle. We all sit down on the sand and I follow suit standing by a tree. Everyone talks about what to do now. Johanna suggests we hunt them down and Finnick says that they won’t attack again

A voice suddenly comes from the jungle, someone screaming.

“Katniss! Katniss, help me!” It’s a young girl’s voice, I assume it's her sister’s.

“Prim! Prim!” She bolts into the jungle and I’m quick to follow her. I chase her as she runs in front of me. I’m fast, not amazingly strong, but I’m really fast.

“Katniss! No! Katniss” I yell but she keeps running, under vines over logs. She sprints through the jungles and towards the voice, both of them still yelling out but ‘Prim’s’ voice doesn’t react to Katniss at all.

Finally she stops running and looks around, she pulls out her bow and shoots something above her. The screaming stops and a bird falls to the floor.

“(y/n)! (y/n) help me!” Max’s voice.

“Max?” I yell back questioning the voice looking for him.

“(y/n).” Katniss says standing in front of me. I start to run towards his voice as he yells again. “No! It’s not him!” She tries to warn me as I yell out his name and run towards it jumping over the plants. He screams out in pain.

“Max!” His voice is shrill and hoarse. I chase the voice out into a more open section of the arena and I stop looking around for him.

“(y/n)! It’s not him!” Katniss yells at me from behind me grabbing my shoulder. “It’s just a jabberjay, it’s not him!” She says with her hair slicked to her forehead.

“Well, how’d you think they got that sound?” I ask her as if it’s obvious. “Jabberjays copy.” I point out and her face contorts with fear as another unfamiliar voice shouts.

“Gale.” She mumbles as he shouts again. I look around for where it’s coming from and a load of birds fly in.

The mutts scream in Max’s voice, they yell out and scream in pain. Then it’s Finnick’s voice, he yells and his voice sounds twisted like he’s being tortured. The screams echo through my head, reverberating as I run away from the flock of mutts. I place my hand on Katniss’s shoulder and lead her away with me, we duck as more birds fly in screaming and pecking at us.

“Come on! Come on Katniss!” I shout at her and she runs ahead of me. The crowd of birds grows and grows until even the screams of this Gale make me feel distressed. We run through the jungle towards the beach and away from the mutts as quickly as we can but they stay merely a metre away at all times. I duck again as the mutts swoop down to pull at my hair and clothes pecking at my skin.

Katniss runs ahead as I try to cover my ears blocking out the screams but they’re so loud. I look up from the ground and the others are near us, on the other side of some invisible wall.

“Katniss stop!” I yell as she runs into the wall but my voice is lost in the mutts’ screams. She hits the wall hard and I slump down the side of it away from her. Finnick’s banging on the wall on the other side, his mouth is moving but I can’t hear him. I bang the wall aggressively as tears start to fall from my eyes. The screams, cries and pecking from the mutts finally breaking through. I scream out to Max and to Finnick even though I can see him in front of me. His face is painted with worry and mine is coated in tears and blood. I finally give up on banging the wall and revert back to covering my ears. I lean against the invisible wall and thread my hands into my hair pulling rough but covering my ears as best I can. It works to an extent but within a minute my nails are digging into my scalp and soon after I’m drawing blood. It trickles down the side of my face along with the tears.

“Max.” I whisper. “Max. Max.” I can imagine him watching the Games right now at his school watching me bent over suffering. “Max.” I cry out.

I remain crouched on the floor screaming and clawing at my ears until the hours up. I yell and scream and I cry. Every negative emotion is portrayed on my face at different moments during the hour.

As soon as the hour is up I hear Finnick’s voice. He calls out my name and I hear a small thump as he falls (the wall disappearing). He quickly gets up and runs towards me kneeling next to me. He wraps his arms around me as the tears flow uncontrollably down my face and I shiver.

“Max!” I yell out extremely concerned for his safety. “Max! Where is he?”

“No, he’s fine. He’s fine, love.” Finnick says, rubbing my shoulder as I look up at him, eyes wide. “It’s not real. It’s not real.” He reassures me slowly. “They wouldn’t hurt your brother, the Capitol loves him.”

“The whole country loves your brother.” Johanna points out and my head whips up towards her. “Both of your siblings, really. If they tortured them or did anything to them, forget the districts, there would be riots in the damn Capitol.” Johanna smirks at Katniss and I look back to Finnick. I stroke his face frantically looking into his eyes.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” I say to myself trying to reassure myself. He places his hands on top of mine with a hint of a smile. Johanna rants to no one in particular but I can’t hear her, all I can do is look at Finnick. “You’re alive.” I say quietly.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

My tumblr page is a bit of a mess at the moment, I love so many franchises and fandoms and I have so many ideas to write. Eventually, I'll make a masterlist to order everything.

You can comment any requests or franchises you'd like me to write for, I'd love to hear your ideas!

#finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #x yn #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #finnick odair #catching fire #mockingjay #primrose everdeen #peeta mellark #hunger games #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #johanna mason #hunger games x yn #hunger games x reader

[ilguna]

☼ drowning in love (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you promised Johanna you'd support her with anything she needed when she came back from the Capitol.

warnings; swearing, they shower together, torture mention.

wc; 1.6k

–

“I’ve changed my mind.” Johanna says, you tilt your head at her, unamused.

The two of you are currently inside of, what must be, the smallest bathroom you’ve ever seen. You thought that when the medical team of Thirteen said they had a private bathroom, they meant something bigger. You weren’t expecting it to be the same size as the bathrooms in the Capitol, but at least half that. It isn’t, though. Everything in here has been crammed to ensure that every inch of space is used.

Johanna’s sitting on the toilet lid, hunched over in her towel, arms wrapped around her abdomen to make herself smaller. You’re standing directly in front of her, your kneecaps touching hers because there is nowhere else to stand in here. You’re lucky that there’s even enough room for the two of you to shower together in the first place.

“Babe, that’s what you said ten minutes ago, you can’t keep changing your mind.”

She shakes her head, staring at the floor, “I’m not ready.”

“You’re going to have to do it either way.” You tell her, “If you don’t do it with me, then the nurses will do it, and they don’t really care about your feelings.”

She meets your eyes, “They’ll sedate me.”

“And then you miss out on an opportunity to start the process of healing. You can’t keep pushing it back. What will you do when the rebellion’s over and we’re no longer in Thirteen? There won’t be anyone to sedate you.” You raise your eyebrows.

“You will, if I put up a big enough fight.” She says, you think you can see a smile hinting at the corners of her lips. She’s not entirely joking, though. She knows that you don’t like seeing her in pain.

“You’ll be okay, I’ll be right here.”

“Except, I don’t want to go in there alone. What if—what if I have an episode?” She asks, you watch her shudder.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” You ask, “You know I will.”

“What if I attack you? Like Peeta did to Katniss?” 

“You won’t. They didn’t use tracker jacker venom on you.” You say, “And the doctors would’ve caught it by now.”

Johanna begins to bite on her bottom lip, face contorting while she thinks. She knows you’re right, but she doesn’t want to admit it. She just wants to find a way out to avoid having to face the water. And you understand why, the issue is that you won’t be putting up with sponge baths for the rest of your life. 

Her eyes dart to the door momentarily, possibly planning an escape. She won’t make it far, not with you standing in front of it. She wouldn’t be able to pull it open before you have her on her ass again.

“Johanna, the water can’t hurt you.” You slide down the wall, taking her hands in yours, “You know you’ll have control in there. You’ll be able to move the shower head off to the side if you can’t handle it, and change the temperature if it’s too close to what they used in the Capitol.”

She presses her lips together, “I don’t want to freak out, (Y/n).”

“You won’t. I’ll get in there with you. You’ll be safe with me in there, you know I would never let anything happen to you, not when I’m right there.” You squeeze her hands.

She nods.

“It’s only a few minutes, we’re just getting your body washed. You’ll feel so much better once the grime is gone, and you’re washing away their touch.”

“Okay.” Johanna breathes.

“Okay.” You echo, letting go of her hands as you get back to your feet. 

You slide the glass door open, leaning in to turn the shower on. You can feel her hands grip around your wrist when the water starts. And without you even saying anything, she begins to take deep breaths in through her nose, and exhales through her mouth. A technique she was taught by the head doctor, it looks like she’s paying attention after all.

You guide her hand to the water slowly so she can feel the temperature, adjusting it the way she tells you to. She goes on the hotter side, staying away from the warm to cold range. You’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.

“Alright,” You hold your hand out to her.

“Can you go in first?” She asks.

“Johanna, if you run out of the bathroom, I’m going to be pissed.” You tell her.

“I won’t. You’ll be closer to the water.” She says, “Please?”

You watch her for a couple of seconds, gauging whether or not she’s telling the truth, and find that she is. You pull your hair up, figuring that you’d rather accidentally get the ends wet than your whole head. You then take off District Thirteen’s jumpsuit, and the underwear underneath.

You keep a hand on Johanna when you open the glass door, backing inside a few steps. This forces her to her feet, where she uses a shaky hand to release the towel, letting it fall to the floor.

“It’s only a couple of minutes.” You remind her, “One step at a time.”

“I know.” She breathes, “I don’t think I can get my face wet.” 

“How about we do your collarbones and down?” You ask, “Does that sound okay?”

She hums in agreement, coming into the shower. She slides the door shut behind her, and you watch her begin to take deeper breaths. You reach back to feel how close the water is, and find it only an inch further back.

“How do you want to do this?” You ask her, “You have to face the water.”

“Just my back right now.” She closes her eyes.

You move her around, slowly backing her into the water, watching as her face twists at the anticipation. When it begins to rain down on her back, she jumps slightly, a shudder running through her body. You can see the goosebumps rise on her arms.

You step closer, placing your hands on her hips, watching her face. She’s got her eyes closed, trying to focus on not freaking out. She moves slightly to allow the water on her shoulders and down her sides.

“Do you think I’ll be better by the end of the rebellion?” She asks.

“If we keep working on it, it’ll be a step in the right direction.” You tell her, “It won’t happen overnight Johanna, as much as I know you wish it would.”

“I wish he’d chosen something else.” She mutters, eyebrows drawing in, “The District borders will finally be down and we won’t even be able to see the ocean. Finnick makes me so jealous when he talks about how beautiful the beach is. And all we’ve got are fuckin’ trees.” 

“That’ll be our goal, then.” You say, she opens her eyes, “To go visit Annie and Finnick on the beach.”

“That could take years, (Y/n).” She says.

“Good thing we’re gonna live for a while.” You smile, she lets out a laugh, “Ready to turn around?”

She nods, you let go of her hips, allowing her to turn around to face the water. She lets out a breath, hesitating.

“I didn’t take you as a beach person.” You say, hoping it’ll take her mind off of the shower water, and instead put her somewhere else. She doesn’t move for a second, before stepping forward. You place your hands on her hips again.

“Yeah, well, neither did I. Finnick talks about the summers there, how he and his family would jump off the docks as kids. The water is cold and refreshing. The sand is warm, and sometimes too hot to walk on with bare feet.” She murmurs, reaching over to grab the bar of soap on the shelf, you smile slightly. “They build sandcastles and play games. It’s like a picnic we have at home, but on the beach. And the best part is the sunsets apparently.”

“I think Finnick just wants us to move there.” You laugh.

“Probably.” She agrees, “I wouldn’t mind, Annie and Finnick are our best friends. It’d be nice to be close to torture them often.”

“I’m sure it’s an option.” You say, “Even if you’re not ready to see the water, I’m sure they have houses away from the water.”

She pauses, “You’d move there with me?”

“Where else would I go?” You laugh, “Do you think I’d stay in Seven?”

“Well, no.” She says, carefully rubbing the soap over her skin. It’s still tender from the scabs that have recently fallen off. “I just thought you’d be more against it.”

“We’ve lived in Seven our whole lives, I’m sure it’ll be okay if we move somewhere new for a while.” You tell her.

“That’s true.”

You lather her back in soap, so it’s less effort for her. She rinses the scentless bubbles down the drain, and then steps out to dry herself off. You get rid of the soap that she’d accidentally gotten on you, before shutting the water off.

When you step out, you’re able to see Johanna wiping her eyes, sniffing. She looks at your briefly, eyes already turning red.

“Hey,” You pull the spare towel around your body, before pulling her into a hug. She wraps her arms around you, letting out a sob. “It was so easy, you didn’t even think about it.”

“I know.” She places her forehead on your shoulder, “I know, I’m afraid it won’t be like this every time.”

“It can be, though.” You press a kiss to her cheek, squeezing her tighter, “And I’ll be here with you the entire time, I promise.”

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x you #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #johanna x you #thg #the hunger games #fluff #requested

[ilguna]

Can I please get #14 from list 1 with Johanna either prepping for the 75th or in the area during the 75th? Thank you!

☼ slippery show (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, johanna's naked, a little nsfw.

wc; 1.5k

prompt; 14. getting turned on when they see the other succeeding.

—

“Finnick, genuinely, do you know anything about archery?” You ask, watching as he pulls a medium-sized bow off of the display table.

He briefly glances at you, unbothered by your tone. It wouldn’t be the first time in your life that you’ve questioned his abilities, because of this, he doesn’t let your doubt waver his confidence. With the bow in one hand, he reaches to grab a matching arrow with the other.

“I think you’ll be surprised.” He says.

“Really?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Let’s see it, then, golden boy.”

Finnick gives you a look, one that tells you that you’re about to eat your words. When he holds the bow up, sliding the arrow across it, you take a step back to give him more room. He pulls the string back, taking in a deep breath, and releases the arrow when he breathes out.

The arrow hits the very outer circle of the target.

You sputter out a laugh, Finnick’s head whips in your direction to give you a nasty glare. You cover your mouth, but the giggles escape through your fingers. You can’t take him seriously, ever, and this is the exact reason why. He pretends like he knows what he’s doing, and then he does something stupid that you saw coming.

“I really can’t say I’m surprised.” You manage to get out. “Do it again.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward. “Shut up.”

“Come on, Finnick.” You grin, eyes wandering away to the rest of the gymnasium.

“No, it’s your turn.” Finnick holds the bow out, “You can’t just laugh at me without doing it, too.”

“Oh, yeah I can.” You tell him, eyes landing on Johanna.

She’s halfway across the room, standing next to a wrestling mat with one of the training experts. She’s got her arms crossed, head tilted to the side while she listens to what the woman has to say about the station. She must get bored, because she turns her attention away, landing on you.

The two of you lock eyes for a long moment, neither of you moving. And then, Johanna gives you a slight smirk.

“Here.” Finnick takes your hand, putting the bow in it. “We can take turns laughing at each other.”

You force yourself to look away from your girlfriend, to Finnick. You’d much rather be over there with her. The reason why you’re not is because she wanted to try out some of the solo training stations, and Finnick wanted to see if you had any hidden skills he should know about.

Despite telling him that you know as much as he does, considering you come from the same district, he’s going to drag you around the gymnasium until he’s satisfied or it’s lunch time. So far, he’s taken you to the more obvious and easy places to start. You can throw a spear and a trident with your eyes closed. And a knife isn’t that difficult, either.

With those out of the way, he decided to take you to the archery area. It’s clear that he can shoot an arrow, just not very good. You’re not entirely sure if you’ll be any better at it. In fact, you might be worse.

You sigh, fixing the bow in your hand. “I’m going to suck.”

“Yeah, I know.” Finnick says. “I want a turn at laughing at you.”

“Thanks.” You make a face at him. 

You turn to the table with the arrows, plucking one of them off. You hold it up, looking it over. It’s made out of silver, glinting in the light. You bring up the bow, mimicking the way that Finnick had prepared the arrow against it. The archery expert seems to have already removed Finnick’s arrow, giving you a blank slate.

You press your lips together, pulling back the arrow, closing one of your eyes to aim, and then letting go of the arrow. It whistles through the air, filling the moment of silence, before it thwaps against the target, sticking in the circle surrounding the center.

Once again, you let out a laugh, a smile crossing your face as you turn to see a disappointed Finnick. He rolls his eyes at you, and you place the bow back onto the display table. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“That was luck.” Finnick says.

“Or pure talent that you seem to lack.” You suggest, Finnick squints at you.

“When did you become so mean?”

“Probably right around the time I started dating Johanna.” You say, and the two of you look over.

Johanna’s peeling her tank top off, starting at the bottom and pulling up. She gets to her ribcage and stops, making sure your eyes are on her. The further she pulls up, the more skin she exposes, and reveals that she didn’t put a bra on this morning.

Finnick looks away, not interested in seeing her topless. You, however, are a different story. She wanted to make sure that you were watching, so you will.

She reaches down, thumbs hooking on the inside of her white leggings, slowly pulling them down her thighs. You shake your head at her with a smile, knowing full well that she thinks this is a game. She doesn’t care what anyone else in this room could possibly think.

When she’s got her leggings around her ankles, she swings it up with one leg, catching it in her hand. Only left in her underwear, she raises her eyebrows at you, and you cock your head to the side. 

Is she going to go any further?

The training expert comes over, taking the clothes from Johanna. She pinches at the fabric hiding her lower half, talking to the expert. The expert shrugs, motioning to her underwear. Johanna smiles, and then you watch as she begins to pull that down, too.

“What station is she at?” You ask Finnick.

“The wrestling one.” He says, turning away, “Let’s go fight with sicles.”

“Nope, I’m done playing with toys.” You tell him, “I’ll stay right here.”

“You’re going to watch your naked girlfriend wrestle with another woman?” Finnick asks, and then he starts laughing. “Why don’t you two just get a room?”

“You’re just jealous your super hot girlfriend isn’t here, instead.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest again.

You watch as the expert hands something over, Johanna squirts it into her hand, and then begins to rub it over her body. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that it’s oil that she’s spreading on her skin. Which means that this is going to be a slippery match.

“Well, I’m not going to sit here and watch Johanna.”

“That’s fine, you can go and bother the teenagers. I know that’s what you’ve been waiting for.” You sit down on one of the benches that are scattered across the room. “I’m going to enjoy the show.”

Finnick lets out a gag, walking away, you laugh at his reaction.

As soon as Johanna’s done oiling herself down, she and the wrestling expert go head to head. This is when she’s able to show just how good she’s gotten at fighting up close with people. It should be hard for the expert to get her hands on Johanna, but by the way she grabs your girlfriend, it’s like the oil doesn’t even affect her.

Still, Johanna takes the expert down on the mat easily, several times. She’ll twist her body around the legs, or do a maneuver where she flips the expert onto her back. She does it so effortlessly, like she’s done it her entire life. 

It’s mesmerizing.

Not only is Johanna incredibly gorgeous, but she’s also smart and talented. No matter how many times you tell her this, she always brushes you off. Then moments like these come around and you wonder how you managed to get so lucky ending up with someone so wonderful.

You press your knees together, gritting your teeth as you watch her pin down the expert, hand wrapped around their throat. It’s tense for a moment, and then Johanna backs off, letting out a laugh.

The two of them get back to their feet, where the expert walks off to the table, picking up a white towel. She tosses it to Johanna, who immediately begins to wipe the oil off of her body. You don’t move from where you sit, letting her pull on her underwear before getting to your feet.

The moment she’s noticed that you’ve gotten up, a smile comes across her face. She’s managed to pull on her leggings by the time you reach her, but she’s still missing her top. You don’t really care, and neither does she. 

Johanna doesn’t resist when you pull her in by her hips, lips hovering over hers. She closes the gap, a warm and breathless feeling comes over your body. There’s something about Johanna that’s intoxicating, and you can’t get away from it. Not that you’d ever want to.

She pulls away, lips turned up.

You lean in close, your right cheek pressed to hers as you go to her ear, murmuring, “Maybe you should come back to mine tonight, yeah?”

--

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #3k celebration #request #an--actual--human--disaster #ask #fluff

[ilguna]

☼ thank you (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; Johanna and you have been fighting for years, but at Finnick's wedding, she changes her mind.

warnings; swearing, death, death in detail, gore, weapons.

wc; 2.7k

–

“I see them.” Brutus whispers, coming to a stop.

You get lower to the ground, carefully creeping around him to take a look for yourself to make sure he’s right. If you end up attacking the wrong people, then you’ll get yourself killed. Despite what he likes to think, you won’t be able to take both Johanna and Finnick, not that you want to anyway.

You trust Brutus to try and keep you alive if you were in a fight. He knows that it’d be easier to win if you had one person on your side up to the end. It’ll be harder to get through five people by yourself. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it’ll surely take longer to do.

Besides, you haven’t given him a reason to let you get killed, yet.

You see who he’s been tracking this entire time. They’re at least twenty feet down the hill, and you figure out who it is pretty quickly. Katniss’ signature braid and Johanna’s spiky hair is unmistakable, even in the darkness. 

Well, the good news is that they’d be easy to fuck with, if you had to. You could turn them against each other, making them split, track and then kill them. Unfortunately, that’s not what you’re here to do. It’s not them you're after, actually. It’s your ally, who’s standing behind you, completely oblivious to the plan you’ve been creating since the start of the Games.

It’s weird, it doesn’t feel right, being on the other side of things for once. It goes against everything you were taught in the Academy. The only people you’re supposed to trust are the careers, because everyone else outside of them could turn on you at any moment. While the careers hold an obligation to stay together for as long as possible to secure one of their wins.

It’s what you did in order to win. It’s what you’d do now, if that were the goal.

You willingly agreed to do this for Haymitch, though. You promised him that you could do this. You just didn’t realize how difficult it could be playing both sides. It hurt your heart to convince Cashmere and Gloss to attack the cornucopia, and it’s going to hurt more when you have to kill your mentor.

They don’t understand the importance of this. You can’t fail.

You need to find a way to cause trouble without making it obvious.

The issue is that it’s practically impossible with Katniss and Johanna. Katniss is naturally a suspicious and distrustful person. She moves quickly, especially with that bow, which means under no circumstances, can you be in view when you fuck with them. Johanna’s determined and aggressive, she won’t hesitate to kill you, either, to protect Katniss and the possibility of a successful rebellion.

This would be so much easier, if you’d just convinced Haymitch to let Johanna and Finnick in on the fact that you’re a part of the alliance. He insisted that it couldn’t happen because he couldn’t have them hesitating each time you attacked. It needed to be full movements, punches couldn’t be pulled.

“What are you thinking?” Brutus asks.

You let out a breath, watching as Katniss and Johanna disappear further down the hill. You look up the hill instead, and with the help of the moonlight shining through the trees, you find something sparkling in the light. It’s a long golden line that disappears into thin air.

You sneak out from behind the bush, heading straight for it. As you get closer, you’re able to see that it’s some type of string. When you gently run your fingers over it, you realize that it’s a wire, Beetee’s wire. The one he risked his life for during the bloodbath. You got him across the back, but it wasn’t that deep of a cut.

It’s a tight wire, and it wiggles every now and then from being jostled. That means that one end is secured, and the other is the spool. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the boys must be at the secure end, and they sent Johanna and Katniss down with the spool, but you can’t fathom why. What’s a wire going to do?

It doesn’t matter. If they’re planning a trap, they’re not going to get the satisfaction of seeing it through. You won’t be going up to the boys, because there’s no need to, if Katniss and Johanna are right here. Technically, you were told to act like you’re going after Katniss, and to forget about Peeta. He’s going to be taken care of by someone else.

“The guys are up there.” You point to Brutus, “That’s Finnick, Peeta and Beetee. They’ll be easier to take later on. We need to get Katniss and Johanna while we can.”

Brutus nods, “They’re split up, it’s the perfect time to do it.”

“Exactly.” You hook your finger around the wire, “They have the other end. We should cut it and go around.”

He nods, you pull out your knife. You’re going to alert both ends that you’re here, which will close your window significantly. You take in a deep breath, readying yourself. You slice upwards, the wire cuts the back of your hand when it recoils. You grit your teeth, watching the blood spring out.

You get to your feet, hurrying down the slope, Brutus right on your heels. You make it down to where Johanna and Katniss disappeared. You slip, barely catching yourself as you slide down loose dirt. At the bottom, you’re able to see Katniss, laid out on her back, blood gushing from her forearm.

The tracker is out.

“She’s as good as dead!” Brutus shouts, “Come on, (Y/n)!”

It must be happening tonight then, which means you need to get this show on the road. If they’re rescuing the victors tonight, Brutus needs to be dead and you have to figure out where they’re retrieving the victors. If you stay, you’ll get caught by the Capitol.

You take off after Brutus, readying the knife in your hands. You can’t take him head-on, the only option is to attack him from behind. He’s so much quicker than you are, and he’s gaining on Johanna, who had a head start to get away. You’re hoping to kill Brutus and let Johanna get away, until she twists herself around, axe ready to fight.

She swings at Brutus, he jumps back, you jerk at her. She changes her attention to you, and you can see her expression harden. You watch as she turns her body to you entirely, forgetting about Brutus. Johanna would love nothing more than to kill you, after years of threatening to do it.

She won’t get her chance. 

She swings at you, you dodge, passing your knife to the other hand, going to slam it through her arm. She can be harmed, the only thing you were told was that she couldn’t be killed. They’d prefer if she were alive, because it’d be easier if more victors were alive to support Katniss’ cause.

Johanna twists away, you grab the handle of the axe, fighting her for it. Brutus reaches for her, trying to take her out while she’s distracted. She swings her elbow back, baring teeth at Brutus, fist slamming into his jaw. You yank on the axe, she lets go because she’s focused on Brutus.

With both of your hands, you strike upwards towards Brutus’ neck. The axe slices through skin and muscle, a fountain of warm blood rains down on you and Johanna. You let go, Brutus stumbles back, hands on the blade, before his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Johanna’s got a fistful of your hair, her other hand balled up and aimed for your face. You can feel the ground shake when Brutus collapses. There is no cannon right now, but there will be one soon.

You catch Johanna’s wrist, twisting her to the ground, nails digging into her flesh to get her to let go. She doesn’t care, she pulls you down, making you fall on top of her.

“Let go of me!” You snarl, your scalp is screaming at you.

You can’t help it, you don’t even realize you’ve slammed your knife through her forearm until she lets out a scream. Her grasp loosens enough for you to be able to push her shoulders down harshly. When she tries to grab at you again, you break her nose with a single punch.

You back off of her, gasping. You reach up to touch the area she had been ripping hair out of, and it’s tender to the touch. Johanna’s got a hand over her nose, but she’s already getting up, ready for another fight. Brutus’ cannon blasts.

“That’s it?” She taunts, there’s blood running down her chin, and her arm.

You get to your feet, “We’re allies, you fucking freak.”

“Right.” She lets out a bitter laugh, “Good one.”

You reach into your wetsuit, feeling around your sports bra until you find the gold ring that you were given by Haymitch. You pull it out, watching as it catches the light. Johanna stares at you for a long moment, squinting her eyes.

“He didn’t tell us about you.” She spits.

“That’s because you guys wouldn’t be able to be subtle for the life of you.” You snap, “You’re not very discreet, moron.” 

You’d say she’s disgusted, but she always has that stupid look on her face. Johanna gets to her feet, rolling her shoulders. You prepare for her to come at you for another fight, but she waves you off.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching her walk away.

“Back to the tree.” She mutters, “Feel free to stay here.”

“What about Katniss?” 

“She’ll find her way back, she’s a big girl.” Johanna sends you a look over her shoulder, “Guess you’re just as clueless as we are. Or Haymitch doesn’t trust you.”

“Trusted me enough to ask me to do this.” You glare at the back of her head, “And you owe me a ‘thank you’ by the way.”

“For what? Stabbing me and breaking my nose?” She snaps.

“For saving your life.” You correct her.

She lets out a loud laugh, turning to face you, “You think I couldn’t take Brutus on my own?”

“You couldn’t even hold onto a goddamn axe correctly to keep me from grabbing it. I’m pretty sure you’d be dead right now if it weren’t for me.” You roll your eyes.

“I was fighting the both of you off.” She raises her eyebrows.

“Oh, and now you’re playing the victim, as per usual.”

You watch her nose flare, “Get the fuck away from me!”

“What? You don’t like getting your own treatment?” You laugh, going to pass her, “Go-fucking-figure. Johanna Mason can piss off anyone, but as soon as it’s her turn, she wants to cry about it.”

A sharp pain explodes across your jaw.

—

A wedding in the middle of a rebellion, truly tasteful of Plutarch to come up with. You can’t say you’re that surprised though, he comes from the Capitol. What you can’t believe is that Finnick and Annie actually agreed to let it happen, and for it to be used as propaganda.

If you were in their shoes, you’d wait until you’re back home before you celebrate something so big. In District Two, a wedding is nothing to shrug off, it’s an important event. Most weddings take place outdoors because of the fresh air, and it’s always the perfect temperature for it. All clothes must be made to request to make sure that they’re original. A singular wedding in Two can have hundreds of guests, some of them being people you’ve never met before, but come to celebrate with gifts and drinks.

You guess it’s not all that different for them right now. They’ve got each other, a few friends that they know, and hundreds of District Twelve and Thirteen citizens that they’ve never met before. At least back home you know that people will be respectful because you share the same culture. Here, you’re afraid to step on any toes.

You couldn’t imagine getting married in a cement chamber.

Regardless, you’re happy for them. Even though Plutarch asked you to come so that you’d show up in the propo footage—you’d planned on coming anyway. Finnick had personally invited you, he wanted to make sure that you were here. After all, you’re the reason why you were all rescued at the tree, instead of sent to the Capitol.

Well, with the exception of Peeta, since he went running into the woods after Finnick told him to stay put at the tree. Had he just listened, the only person that would’ve needed to be rescued from the Capitol is Annie. Everyone else would’ve been here.

The beat that everyone’s dancing two gets faster, forcing the rest of you to catch up, clapping to the beat to keep up. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Johanna approaching Katniss. They talk for a minute, and then Katniss carefully joins the dancing crowd, blending in easily, since it’s a dance from her district. 

They’re jumping, laughing, spinning, joining hands to create one large circle together. 

You don’t even realize Johanna’s snuck up next to you until she’s speaking, “What? You aren’t going to join them for attention?”

You roll your eyes, “Let me guess, you’re too prideful to join?”

You and her share a long look. The corners of her lips twitch, and she lets out a laugh, turning away, “I would, but I don’t know the steps.”

“Neither do I.” You admit. “District Two has something similar to what Finnick’s doing, but I think he made that up on the spot.”

“Show me.” Johanna motions at you.

Your face twists, “I need a partner, I can’t do it alone. It won’t look right.”

Johanna holds her hands out, waiting for you to take them. You don’t take them right away, shocked that she’s even insisting in the first place. Although, you’re not sure why. In the weeks after being rescued from the arena, you and Johanna have become more friendly with each other. It has something to do with the fact that you live in the same place, have the same friends, and see each other frequently. You’re practically friends.

This doesn’t stop her from starting every conversation with an insult.

“Keep up.” You take her hands, pulling her towards you, “Because we don’t do slow.”

Johanna grins.

You start by teaching her the steps, gradually getting faster. She watches how fast you move your feet, the way you’ll move your hands. You spin her, pull her back, twist, drop, let go. It’s a pattern that she begins to recognize over time, even though it’s a long number.

There’s a genuine laugh coming out of Johanna, her cheeks a gentle shade of red. She pushes the hair out of her face to give her a better look at what she’s doing. You twirl her, making her trip over her feet on purpose. She grabs onto your shoulder, and you dip her down slightly.

She’s breathing hard, trying to catch her breath. You return her back to her feet, letting go. You can see that everyone else has stopped dancing, they’ve turned their attention to see the cake that’s been wheeled into the room. It’s beautiful, and it’s almost unbelievable.

“(Y/n).” Johanna murmurs.

You turn to look at her, two hands grab either side of your face, and warm lips press to yours. You grab the wrists tightly, carefully pulling away to see Johanna watching you, gauging your reaction.

A smirk comes over your face, “Don’t go soft on me now.”

“Shut up.” She pulls her wrists from your hands, you don’t fight her. She crosses her arms over her chest. You two stand quietly, watching Finnick and Annie get ready to cut the cake. “That was a thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” You ask, eyebrows twitching.

“For saving my life in the arena.”

You bump your shoulder into hers, “Anytime, Johanna.”

#ilguna #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x yn #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #thg #the hunger games #requested

[ilguna]

Hi a johanna x reader break up? They’re in D13, they get in a fight, and they break up. Make it extra angsty pls 🫢 and thank you

☼ wrong place, wrong time (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, torture mention, prostituion mention.

wc; 2.8k

--

When you met Johanna, it was during the Tribute Parade for the Seventy-Second Hunger Games. It was her first mentoring event, and despite having another victor with her, it was clear that she was getting overwhelmed with the sheer amount of tasks mentors have to take on at once.

As a newer victor yourself, who remembered exactly what it was like to be thrown to the wolves with little to no help, you thought you could give her some advice. However, from the moment you approached her, it was clear that she was not a fan of yours. Judging by the way her face twisted in the center—a clear display of disgust—she had some preceding opinions about you. 

You still have no idea what she was thinking to herself when you began talking to her, because even now she refuses to tell you, as if it’s some big secret. She thought you were full of yourself, going up to her and giving her advice that she never asked for. Like you knew what was best for her tributes or that her mentoring style was wrong.

She knows now that your intentions were innocent. At the time, District Seven and District Ten had this half-alliance that’d been working out in the tributes' favor recently. Well, with the exception of her, because she’d gone by herself the year prior, but her tribute partner took advantage of it for as long as he did.

Either way, they must not have filled her in on this, because the second you began to introduce yourself, she completely stonewalled you. This is not what you were expecting from the girl who managed to play one of the smartest hands in history, but you can’t blame her. How can you?

After this, it was hard getting Johanna to talk to you beyond formalities, which seemed to be against her will. It wasn’t until your tributes began forming an alliance between your two districts, did she finally come around. By then, you were tired of her brushing you off, and everything you said was no longer sugar coated. 

Surprisingly, Johanna didn’t like this.

A little fact about her is that she’s terrible at communication. From the surface, all conversations with her seem to be straightforward. She says what’s on her mind, disregarding the feelings of the person she’s talking to. She believes it’s a waste of time and effort to censor herself, when she thinks that people need to toughen up.

However, if you do this to her, she can and she will lose her temper. It might not be all at once, but she starts to show signs. The beginning is usually passive aggressive comments, and it only escalates from there.

You didn’t know this at the time of talking to her, obviously. You did figure it out pretty quickly, and instead of just letting it be, you were forward with Johanna. You forget exactly what you told her, but it was something along the lines of, “Before this gets any worse, I would like to talk about it. I can tell we started off on the wrong foot, was it something I said?”

Of course, in classic Johanna fashion, she thought that you weren’t being serious, and in the middle of a sarcastic remark, you stopped her. You told her that it was a genuine question, and you’d like the opportunity to fix what happened in order to continue the alliance between Seven and Ten. Otherwise, you two were heading for a rivalry that you did not have the time nor the energy for.

It took several tries, but you managed to squeeze it out of her. She was honest, she told you that it was the Tribute Parade, your know-it-all attitude and your righteousness to her tributes. This allowed you to explain to her the former alliances and the friendship that you mostly held with the previous mentor of Seven.

She blinked in surprise when you apologized for assuming she knew already. From there, the relationship between you two got better—and eventually grew to be more. By the end of the Seventy-Second Hunger Games, you’d rubbed off on her enough to allow her to communicate the same way you did. There wasn’t a hurdle she couldn’t get over.

It’s different now, three years later. Now it seems like she can’t get her legs high enough, getting her foot caught in the plastic, causing her to land harshly back on the track. Now she doesn’t seem interested in fixing the issue, letting it get worse.

It’s been four weeks since Johanna got rescued from the Capitol. And the only consistent sentence Johanna has said to you in this span of time is, “Get out of my room.”

For the first fourteen days, you did everything you can to change that. You went to visit her every chance you got in District Thirteen’s hospital. If there was a gap in your premade schedule, you took the time to go and see her, with the hope that she wouldn’t turn you away that time. And despite the fact you should’ve known better by then, you still showed up in her doorway. And you were still met with the same answer.

It hurts.

A piece of you shattered when you watched her begin to shake her head at the sight of you alone. She doesn’t want you near her anymore. When before, she couldn’t hold you close enough. She always had you within arms reach, especially during the Quarter Quell because she was afraid of losing you.

When you try to bring this up to Finnick, he brushes you off. All he has to say to you is that she went through a lot. Given the circumstances, you’re lucky that she did come back from the Capitol. She could be another copy of Peeta, who can��t even look at Katniss without getting unnecessarily violent.

It feels like she is, though. Just, instead of the Capitol reengineering her brain to be afraid of you, she’s willingly choosing to push you away. And you let her. After fourteen days of suffering through this, you decided that you weren’t going to do it anymore. You went to visit her on the fifteenth day, right before the hospital stopped taking visitors for the night. 

You hadn’t bothered to see her all day, not that you had the time to, either. Plutarch had them change your schedule to include more combat and weapon training without asking you first. Then, they pulled you in for a meeting to talk to you about potentially sending you to District Two to be with Katniss while she does propos and helps the wounded.

Their reasoning was they wanted to show more hands-on victors to the Capitol and the districts. If they have a little bit of variety, it might inspire loyalists to become rebels, or something stupid like that. Either way, they couldn’t choose Johanna and Peeta for obvious reasons, as much as Plutarch would’ve liked to. The recently rescued could feed their cause.

Which naturally takes Finnick and Annie off the table, as well. Beetee is needed for Special Defense, Haymitch isn’t really a camera-type. This leaves just you, something they were excited about. You could offer a different perspective to the districts that are more like yours and less like Katniss’s.

It didn’t take much for them to convince you to go to District Two, but that’s besides the point.

You went to see Johanna directly after that meeting, exhausted from a long day—something you hadn’t experienced in over a month. They had you go through every physical and mental test they could’ve thought of. And when you were finished with that, they had you training with weapons that you thought you’d never have to touch.

You were frustrated, too. The idea of Johanna shutting you down again was getting to your head. Still, you wanted to go to her. You wanted to see her, tell her that you’d be gone for a couple weeks. She would have plenty of time away from you to collect her thoughts and put her emotions in order. While you wouldn’t mind doing video calls, like Katniss and Haymitch have been doing, you weren’t going to initiate it.

You had a whole speech prepared.

When you saw Johanna through the glass, she was sitting with Finnick on her bed. An occurrence that wasn’t uncommon, they’re best friends, after all. You knew that he was visiting her anyway, because he was letting you in on snippets of their conversations. He knew that she was driving you crazy by not letting you check in with her, so he took the liberty of telling you how she was feeling every couple of days.

It peeved you that she would let him into her room, but you had to remind yourself that they don’t have the same relationship that you two have. He’s not dating her, he’s just her friend. She’s going to trust him with details that she’d never consider telling you. Even though you feel it should be the other way around.

Johanna was smiling, Finnick was laughing. And then her wandering eyes caught sight of you, the expression on her face disappearing completely. You didn’t get to open your mouth before she said, “Right when I think I’m finally going to get a day with you—here you are. What about ‘go away’ do you not understand?”

You haven’t seen her since.

District Two helped that considerably. The tasks weren’t as mind-numbing as you were hoping they’d be, but it was easy to get caught up in helping people. That’s the part you enjoyed the most. If you could keep your hands busy, then you weren’t thinking about her or the expression on her face.

Well, during the day it was easy to forget about her. At night it became different, you’d spend hours tossing and turning, replaying every moment you spent with her leading up to the final day of the Quarter Quell. How she specifically instructed you to go to the tree and wait there to be rescued. You were not to wait on her.

She told you she loved you before she sent you away.

Your trip in District Two was suddenly cut short when Katniss got shot, and you were grazed with a lazy second bullet. Unable to secure your safety, you were promptly whisked onto a hovercraft and flown straight back to Thirteen. You were uninjured and allowed to sleep in your own room, with Katniss having bruised ribs so she was taken to the hospital.

You were going to go with her, since you’d grown closer from working side by side for two weeks. The moment you stepped foot into the first hallway, you changed your mind. You asked Haymitch to get you when she woke up, and then you left.

Since, they’ve resumed your training schedule. Which is strangely more work than being in the district itself. It works as a better distraction, at least. It keeps you from getting the urge of seeing Johanna all hours of the day. Although, with every passing day that you don’t try to fix your relationship, you slip further and further from each other’s grasp.

Except, you did try. It was Johanna that repeatedly shut it down. 

“Are you sure you can officiate the wedding?” Plutarch asks again. “A guy from your district just came forward and said that he could do it.”

“Dalton.” You murmur, straightening out the grey jumpsuit. “I talked to him the other day about it, he told me that he’s never actually done it before.” You turn away from the mirror to look at Plutarch. “I have, that’s why Finnick and Annie said they wanted me to do it.”

Plutarch nods. “Right, well, Coin wants to start in about twenty minutes.”

“Gotcha.” You sigh. “I’ve got to run up to my room real quick, I grabbed something for them while I was in Two. I’ve just been holding onto it until the right moment.”

Plutarch places a hand on your shoulder before walking in the direction of the kitchen, where Peeta should be with the cake. You start for the exit immediately because you have such a limited amount of time to make this trip. You walk a long hallway, up a flight of stairs and then onto the elevator. From there, you have to walk from one side of the building to the other.

A part of you had a feeling that Finnick and Annie would seal their love sometime soon, especially after what happened. The last thing they’d want is to wait any longer when they love each other now. That’s why you went ahead and worked with Haymitch to get something done for them.

The night before the Quell, Mags had given Haymitch a special picture of Finnick and Annie together. It’s clear that they have no clue the photo was being taken because of the little bit of blur. In the photo, Finnick is dipping Annie as far back as she’ll go, face buried into the far side of her neck. While Annie has the brightest smile on her face, mid-laughter.

You took the photo with you to Two, where you struggled to find a business that was still running, even with the battle happening. A single woodworking shop was open, and as soon as you mentioned needing a picture frame, she jumped at the opportunity. She had many prepared, but you wanted a white frame, and you wanted it to be engraved with, ‘The Odair’s, forever and always’. 

It truly is a gorgeous piece, as simple as it is. She went above and beyond for them, and you’d like to think that Mags would be happy with it.

As you swing the door to your room open, you know something is off. The lights are on, despite the fact that you turned them off before you left. When you sweep the small area, your eyes land on Johanna, who’s sitting on your bed, picture frame in hand, eyebrows furrowed.

She doesn’t look the way she did the last time you saw her. In fact, she looks much healthier, even with the deep bags beneath her eyes. She’s put some weight back on due to the meal plan the hospital has her on, and her hair has grown a little bit more. A dark fuzz covers what used to be her exposed skull.

Johanna looks up at your presence, but all you can think about is how she’s leaving finger streaks on the glass you’ve meticulously cleaned. 

“I need that.” You tell her, holding out your hand. “I have to get back downstairs.”

“I didn’t realize I meant so little to you.” She ignores what you’ve said, but sets the frame aside. “You’ve moved on pretty quickly. I bet you were hoping I was going to die in the Capitol.”

You stare at her blankly, lips parting. Has she hit her head recently? Or maybe it’s the torture finally catching up with her. “Moved on?” You repeat. “Johanna, I have not.”

“You haven’t come to see me in weeks.” She accuses.

A scoff leaves your mouth before you can catch it. Her eyes widen, not expecting that from you. “Are you feeling alright?” You ask. “Because last time I checked, you’re the one that told me to ‘go away’ five times a day. Every time I went to see you, you told me to leave. I listened. Is that not what you wanted?”

“If you actually loved me, you would know the answer to that.”

“I do love you!” You suddenly shout at her, she flinches at your tone, regret seeps into your chest. You lower your tone, “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to stand here and let you tell me that I don’t love you. I was pushing for you to get rescued since I woke up in that hovercraft without you. I begged them to go back for you.

“And all those secrets that Finnick told live weren’t just his, they were mine too.” You tell her, watching as her face drops. “I had to tell him what happened to me. I was the first one through those hospital doors when I heard you were here. And even though it was obvious you didn’t want me, I still came around for two weeks hoping that you’d suddenly change your mind.

“I am not gonna let you blame this on me.” You snap, striding forward. You swipe the picture frame from the bed. “And I am not going to let you treat me like shit. This relationship is done. Get out of my room.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #3k celebration #mutuals #planet anon #ask #amonett

[ilguna]

☼ runs in the family (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; lately you've been flirting with Cashmere, and Johanna can't watch anymore.

warnings; swearing, death mention, hints at prostitution, weird little sister idolization for a second.

wc; 3.4k

notes: reader is finnick’s sister.

–

The biggest problem you have with being Finnick’s younger sister, is the fact that you pick up on his behavior and make it yours as well. It doesn’t sound so bad at first, maybe you’re just idolizing him, because that’s what younger siblings do. Except, you two are grown adults now, and it shouldn’t be that way anymore.

When your parents were alive, they used to encourage the behavior by saying that you and Finnick were meant to be twins, with how similar you were. Everything he did, you were right behind him. For the longest time, he loathed your existence, and didn’t bother hiding it, either. To him, there was nothing worse than being constantly compared to his younger sister, of all people.

It only got worse from there. You got enrolled into District Four’s Private Academy at the same time that he did. Which meant that you were in the same classes as him, despite being two years younger. He got the achievement of being the top of the class with boys, and you followed a couple of days later with the girls.

It got so bad to the point where he stopped speaking to you unless he had to.

You have to admit, there were a few times where you begged to be with Finnick, because he was the only person you could trust. You didn’t have many friends your age, because Finnick’s friends were yours. On the other hand, you used to go blue in the face telling your parents that Finnick hated you because they insisted you be attached at the hip.

Finnick got reaped at fourteen, of course. He won the title of the youngest victor ever. As well as the biggest sponsor gift in history. He came back from the Capitol, traumatized but triumphant over the fact that he could finally be differentiated from you. He started talking to you again, because you two were no Cashmere and Gloss. You didn’t care, you didn’t want to be important like them.

Finnick got to be in the spotlight without you having the chance of taking it over, and you were forced to focus on your studies if you even wanted a sliver of your parents' attention. It was a heavy trade-off, because everything fell back onto you to be successful too. Not quite in the same way, but they didn’t want you to give up solely because he was a victor.

The year Finnick turned sixteen was a hard year for you. It started off that way, because you hit Finnick’s age when he was reaped. And while you were suffering from nightmares, your parents filled every free hour of your day with the Private Academy or studying at school. You were exhausted.

Finnick wasn’t even on the train for an hour before you got into a fight with them over it, tired of the pressure to succeed when that’s all you’ve ever done in your life. 

That was the last conversation you ever had with them. You left the house for two days, something you’d never done before, but you couldn’t face them. When you came home, they were nowhere to be seen. You waited hours and hours for them to return, and still, they were gone.

No one in Victor’s Village had an idea of what happened. No one on the way to the Justice Building had a single clue. The Mayor of Four completely shut you down and threatened to arrest you if you pursued the matter any further, sending you home.

You spent three weeks alone in that house, struggling to preserve any sense of normalcy, terrified that you were going to be taken by the Mayor, since he knew that you were by yourself. It didn’t even dawn on you that he must’ve had some part in their disappearance when he sent you away. You were worried about the two most important people in your life gone.

You were doing things that you never had to do before. You didn’t usually cook for yourself in the first place, so you were left with easy meals that you had been eating before his win. The problem is, with Finnick’s money, they stopped buying food like that, which brought in a whole new issue. You’d never had to go buy groceries before.

You spent three days trying to find any cash whatsoever, unaware of the fact that Finnick’s Victor ID was in the top drawer in the kitchen, and would pay for anything you asked for. You were starving, and ended up at one of the other Victors’ houses, in full-blown hysterics because you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Everyday you woke up and wished that Four’s tributes would die quicker, because that meant Finnick would come home. He would be able to take care of you, and understood where everything was. He would have a clue as to what happened.

When Finnick came home, he shut you out. He spent days locked alone in his bedroom, denying any idea as to what happened to your parents, refusing to talk to you once again. You knew he was lying to you, he wasn’t trying to hide it either. Your parents were gone, not a single trace as to where they’d gone, and he decided you didn’t need to hear why.

After a month of pestering him for an answer, you stopped. You couldn’t do it anymore, with the stress of everything hitting you at once, you gave up. Finnick must’ve thought that you’d forgiven him, when really you didn’t. You were angry with him beyond words, and you punished him the same way that he punished you: you stopped talking to him entirely.

You pushed him away, and kept it like that for the next year. He tried to take up your parents’ role in the house to make up for their absence. He made breakfast, lunch and dinner. He walked you from your school to the Private Academy, where he was forced to work for the next few years. He cleaned your clothes, and restocked your bathroom items, and he kept trying to make up for it.

You had a whole year to plan how you were going to get back at him for the final time, because you refused to be with Finnick for the rest of your life if he was going to lie to you and treat you like a baby. The only answer you came up with in the end was the one that would likely kill you.

You volunteered for the Hunger Games at fifteen. 

At the time, there was a part of you that wished you would die inside of the arena, to punish Finnick for the very last time. You would be the last person taken away from him, by your own choice. And he would be forced to live with it for the rest of his life. Alone. 

Just like how you were for almost two months.

Finnick wasn’t mad. You would say that he was extremely upset with you on the train to the Capitol. All you could do was taunt him. What was he going to do about it? It was too late to go back. You told him that he had two choices—he could tell you what happened to your parents and what caused them to be taken away, in which case you’d fight to come home. Or he could continue to treat you the way he was, and you’d let the Games play out the way they always do.

He was less than thrilled with your existence before you were reaped, but he didn’t leave you alone for a second when he was mentoring you. By then, he was seventeen. He’d had three years to perfect the way he mentors, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to let his little sister die inside of the arena.

Well, Finnick wasn’t going to let you act that way and get what you wanted at the same time. He told you to figure it out yourself. Which meant that there was a way to find out without asking him about it.

You spent the week analyzing his behavior, how odd it was that he’d leave the apartment frequently but Mags never did the same thing. The times he’d come home, how late in the night it would be. The night of the interviews, you managed to get Mags alone. It wasn’t for long, less than five minutes.

From the very first second to the last, you spent the entire time spewing terrible theories about your brother and what he could be doing when he went out. You figured out earlier in the week that Mags liked to be correct sometimes, which meant that at the end of the conversation, she corrected you. She told you what Finnick was really doing.

You had never felt so much regret in your life like you did at that moment. On the same token, you couldn’t believe that Finnick would keep something so vital from you.

Since, there’s been several times that while you were in the arena, he’d say he wished how much he could be in there with you, to protect you. He’s grateful that they don’t let victors volunteer to go in again. If he had, one of you would be dead today, and the other would be living without them.

As much as you know Finnick was wishing he’d be able to save you from the horrors of the Capitol post-victory, it wasn’t realistic. There might not have been any family for Snow to kill, but you had other people you loved. Your friends, your neighbors, and the people who took care of you and Finnick after your parents were gone.

It’s a shame, being sucked into Finnick’s personal vortex.

Lately, you’ve picked up on something you swore you never would—his stupid casanova personality. It’s like he automatically defaults to flirting with people when he talks to them. You started off by making fun of him, because you wanted him to knock it off. It was weird to watch for a while, especially since that is not the same version of Finnick that you know.

However, he ended up telling you it’s because that’s how he’s supposed to act with these people. A young ladies man. As for you, you’re his cute little sister. Gross.

You honestly thought you had him figured out because he uses it to his benefit sometimes, whether he realizes it or not. It might have started off as an act because the people here need to see him that way, but it’s turned into a manipulation tactic. 

When you found out, you couldn’t believe he didn’t use it to get leverage on people, to flatter them and get what he wants. So, you started doing the same thing. So, in the end, it’s your fault that you picked up on this, but really, it’s funny how people react when they’re being flirted with. It’s like being seen as desirable away from the Capitol’s standards is a new high. It’s a form of validation, especially with the victors you work with every year. Like Cashmere, for example. 

If you flirt with her, or the other career mentors, they’re more likely to team up with you for the sponsors. You get to be on the good side with the people around you, and your tributes get taken care of. It’s a win-win situation.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your hair is?” You ask, leaning into the table.

Cashmere looks at you through her eyelashes, a smile coming over her face, “I used to.”

“People don’t tell you anymore?” You gasp, “Your curls are so natural and cute.”

She shrugs, “Guess they’re not my biggest quality now.”

“It must be your smile that won over, then.” You wink, Cashmere rolls her eyes, but her smile doesn’t leave her face. “What are you doing after this? Have any plans?”

“No, I was thinking about going out to lunch with Gloss.” She looks over at him. He’s sitting at a different table with Enobaria. Finnick was over there for a while, but you can see that Johanna’s come into the Betting Room. He’ll choose her over anyone nowadays.

“Oh, where?” You raise your eyebrows, “Got room for two more?”

“You and Finnick? What is this, a sibling lunch?” She laughs, “I mean, we’re thinking of going to the new restaurant that opened down the street. It’s all cold stuff, like sandwiches and salads. Do you think he’d be interested?”

“Finnick doesn’t care, as long as it’s edible.”

She shakes her head, “Gloss too, I really don’t know how they do it.”

“You’re telling me.”

Cashmere reaches up to play with her earring, “I’ll let Gloss know, I’m sure he doesn’t mind.”

“Neither will Finnick,” You agree, scooting back.

“Does one work well for you?” She asks, getting to her feet.

“Sounds like a date to me.” You wiggle your eyebrows, biting your lip.

You can see her cheeks flush red before she turns away, heading toward the other table. You wave to Enobaria and Gloss before going to Finnick, who’s suddenly standing alone.

“Hey, I was just talking to Cashmere about all of us going out to lunch this afternoon,” You cross your arms. “Where’d Johanna go?”

“She got upset.” Finnick’s eyebrows twitch, “And who’s ‘all of us’?”

“Siblings, no Enobaria or Johanna.” You say.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love that.” He makes a face before turning to the Line Odds board.

“What does that mean? Who are you talking about?” You ask, moving around him so that he has to look at you. “Johanna? Why would she care?”

“She cares about a lot, haven’t you noticed?” He asks.

“No, not really. It’s Johanna, I thought she could give a rat’s ass.”

He makes a face, “Well, not when it comes to you.”

You stand in silence, staring at him for a long minute, trying to figure out what he must mean. Sure, you and Johanna are friends, but that’s the extent of it. You think that the two of you could be closer, if she lets you be, but she holds you at arms-length no matter how hard you try. There’s been times where you’ve tried to get to know her more, and she’ll shut you down. It’s almost like Finnick has something to do with it, because she’s his only friend. 

However, if he’s mentioning it like this, then that can’t be the case.

“You can’t say that and leave it that way.” You tell him.

“Really, I can.” He makes a face at you, “I’m older.”

Oh, he wants to go there?

“And you have a bad track history when it comes to secrets.” You say, knowing full well he doesn’t like it when you use this against him. You’re referencing your parents each time, and he’s told you that you might as well say it instead of beating around the bush. You like to rub salt next to the wound, not directly in it. It means it can’t be your fault if it gets inside. “Tell me.”

“Johanna likes you, idiot.” He says, “Happy?”

You can feel your face fall. No, you’re not happy. In fact, you’re not entirely sure how he expected you to know this information, much less react to it. All you’re doing it going out to lunch with Cashmere and Gloss, you’re not sure why she would take it the wrong way.

Johanna likes you?

Finnick can tell you’re lost, “You’ve been flirting with Cashmere for the past hour. She saw you do it.”

“She knows that I don’t actually like her.” You wave him off, looking over at Cashmere, Enobaria and Gloss.

How can Johanna like you when she never lets you get close enough? It’s different for you, you hear about her everyday of the week and then more. You’re fairly sure you know more about herself than she knows about you, at this point. Even when you go back home, Finnick will continue to talk about her throughout the rest of the year. He sprinkles details about her every now and then because he knows it drives you up the wall.

He knows how badly you want to get her alone, and she won’t let it happen. And he won’t tell her that because he thinks it’s some game. Another person that he has that you never can—just you taking away his spotlight again. He’s afraid that if you really do start dating her, then he’ll never get to see the same side of her ever again, much less get time with her.

You begin to grind your teeth, pressing your lips together. Johanna can’t possibly like you. This has got to be Finnick messing with you again.

When Finnick doesn’t say a word to confirm what you said, you let out a sigh through your nose, “Where’d she go?”

“She left to go back to her room.” He tells you, “She’s probably gone by now.”

“She has a tendency to hang out in the hallway for a minute to calm down.” You tell him, starting toward the exit doors, “You’d know that if you paid more attention.”

“Or maybe you pay too much attention!” He shouts back.

You ignore him, leaving the Betting Room and heading down the first hallway. How long has Finnick known that Johanna likes you? What has he been telling her in response? That you do like other people? Or that he doesn’t know for sure?

Sure enough, as soon as you round the corner into the second hallway, you find Johanna. She’s running a hand through her hair, and she doesn’t bother to look at you at first. When she does, she makes a noise.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask, not wanting to start with what Finnick said. There’s been a few times where he’s fucked with you because he knows it’ll get you stuck in a rabbit hole that you’ll wish you’d never jumped down in the first place. It’s better to hear what he said from Johanna, herself. “I saw you left. Are you okay?”

“You and Cashmere seem very close.” She says, you blink, surprised that she’d start so strong. “Didn’t take you as a career-lover.”

“Well, yeah. Her and I are friends.”

“Friends.” She echoes, “Friends flirt with each other?”

She’s upset. She’s really upset if she’s not even bothering to hide her feelings like that. You shake your head at her, “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Right.” She nods, rolling her eyes, “Because it didn’t come off that way or anything. I heard you’re going out to lunch together?”

You squint at her, “I’m confused as to why you care so much. I’ve offered to get lunch with you before. The difference between you and her—”

“Is that I actually like you, and she doesn’t give a shit!” She shouts, “She’s not even into girls!”

You stare at Johanna, genuinely speechless for the first time in your life. You never thought that you’d find yourself in this position, much less with Johanna. 

“So it’s true.” You manage to get out.

“What’s true?” She sighs, crossing her arms.

“Finnick told me you liked me.” You raise your eyebrows, “And it’s true.”

You watch her think for a moment, before her entire expression shifts into anger, “He told you?”

“Yeah, and I came out to make sure, before I did something stupid,” You say, smirking slightly, “Like this.”

You cup Johanna’s face, bringing her lips to yours. The moment they touch, you can feel your stomach skyrocket into your mouth, almost in denial that you’ve just done this. Her lips are soft, and warm, and you can feel the heat slam into your face. Johanna almost pulls away, before she presses into you, kissing you back.

When you take a step back, you brush a strand of hair out of her face. 

“I didn’t think…” She trails off.

“I don’t like Cashmere.” You tell her, “I like you. And you would’ve known sooner, if you actually let me talk to you.”

“It won’t happen again.” She breathes, her eyes on your lips.

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna x reader #johanna fanfic #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #johanna x you #thg #the hunger games #angst #requested

[ilguna]

Expired medicine! 25 for Johanna Mason please?

☼ the weight of the world (Johanna Mason) ☼

warnings; swearing, needle mention, pain medication abuse, gun mention/use, murder, gore, death.

wc; 1.6k

prompt; 25. "Please, not now."

—

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The morphling bag next to Johanna’s hospital bed never seems to empty. When it comes close, she’ll press the button that summons the nurse for another. She never actually risks running out of the addictive medicine.

She’s only been back for a week and a half, and she’s already been through about fifteen of the bags. At least one and a half a day, which is far from healthy. Each time the nurses try to advise her to slow down, she loses her temper on them. It’s hard to watch.

It’s even worse to handle when they look to you for help, because you’re the one that’s dating her. Hypothetically, you should be able to tell her that they’re right. At the rate she’s going, she’ll become another one of those District Six tributes that never come off of the stuff.

You can’t bring yourself to argue with her, you don’t have the energy to. Besides, she thinks that you’re on her side about everything when it comes to District Thirteen’s doctors. When really, the last thing you need right now is to pick a fight with her. It’ll end up escalating into something worse.

She’s on fire, and she’s targeting anything that moves against her. Earlier, you tried to help her when it came to propping up her pillows, because the beds only move so far up. All you did was tell her to stop getting in the way, frustrated because it seemed like she was doing it on purpose. Then she slapped your hand away and told you to leave her alone and she’ll figure it out by herself.

You love Johanna, you have for the past couple of years. Which means that you’ve managed to build up patience for her attitude and actions. However, now is not the time for her to be wearing it thin. You’re barely holding on as it is. You can’t afford to lose her entirely. 

Johanna’s the last person you have from home. 

She is the last one that made it out of there alive. You don’t even have your family anymore. One minute, they were alive. And the next, the Peacekeepers were executing them on the streets. If they couldn’t have you, the orders from Snow were to take them, instead. They were going to be the consequence for your rebellion.

You weren’t even in District Seven. You were a mentor for Johanna and Blight for the Quarter Quell. He knew that he could get away with it, because they were so far out of reach. What were you going to do? Convince Coin to get you on a hovercraft home? She never would have gone for it.

The only reason why you know they’re dead is because that’s what the rebels from home reported. Originally, Coin had given you the synopsis of the report, either trying to spare you of the goriness or simply because she thought it wasn’t important enough. 

As soon as you asked her if you could read the full paper, she handed it over, no question. It was the first time she had ever met your demands without digging her heels in. The report was long, painfully detailed, and the first line started with, ‘Per your request…’ meaning she had reached out to them, instead of the other way around.

It turns out, your family had been hiding from the Peacekeepers the best they could in the neighbor's basement. It wasn’t in victor’s village, but in your first neighborhood, where you’d lived before you won the Hunger Games. There, they were fed and clothed. The rebel said that they looked healthy, well taken care of.

The rebels were on their way to retrieve them to bring them to the more official rebel base in District Seven, where they were going to be safer. When they got to the neighbor’s house, on the street, your mother and your two sisters were dead, shot in the back of the head.

The blood in the gravel was still wet, meaning that they were just a few minutes too late. A half hour sooner and your family would still be alive, living in the warehouse. When they investigated the house, they found the front door in splinters because it had been kicked in. And your neighbor was shot in the living room, likely for aiding and abetting.

This news came a few days ago, delayed because they couldn’t convey the message. 

All you want is to be left alone to think, but when you tried, Johanna sent five different people after you to bring you to her. When you explained to them that you couldn’t, they told you to tell her, yourself. It wasn’t until Finnick and Annie came around to ask you to see her, did you finally budge.

You didn’t want to tell Johanna right away, because you needed a day to be able to feel what you wanted to. As good as Johanna is at channeling anger, it’s not what you were feeling. It’s not what you are feeling. There’s an empty pit in your chest, and sitting in a room with her yelling, doesn’t fill it.

When you asked her to quiet down, she told you that she just came from the Capitol, she has every right to scream if she wants to. Except, you’re not allowed to leave, because then you’re just as bad as them for some reason. You’re stuck in this fucking room with her.

“I’ll kill them, (Y/n).” Johanna says, bringing you back to the same rant she was on an hour ago. “I’ll kill every one of those fuckers that put their hands on me.” 

The vase that sits at Johanna’s beside is filled with a bouquet of flowers, each one of them native to District Seven. Finnick and Annie brought them in yesterday, Johanna rolled her eyes at the sight of them. You don’t know if she even realizes the significance of them, beyond the plant. Or how hard it must’ve been to get them here.

It was a sweet gesture, one that you had to thank them for privately. When you came back into the room, she shook her head. “What do they think a bunch of flowers is going to do? Magically heal me?”

“They took my freedom from me.” She says, picking at the scabs on her skin. You stopped telling her to knock it off, because you were met with nasty words in exchange when you did. “I can’t even shower by myself anymore without the help of the nurses. And all of them are afraid to look at me, like I’ll fucking snap into pieces if they do.”

You bite your tongue. That is definitely not the reason why. 

“Once they let me out of this bed, I’ll join the rebels. I’ll march straight to the Capitol with the rest of them to see that they actually kill Snow, but I’d much rather do that myself.” She says.

Your mouth twitches, not happy with what she has to say. She would really risk putting herself into danger again, wouldn’t she? Even though she just got out of the Capitol, barely alive as it is. They’ll kill her if they get the opportunity to have her in their hands again. There’s no question about that.

She would do this alone, too. There’s no way in hell that you’d willingly join her in something like that. No amount of guilt-tripping could change your mind on this.

“God, I would do anything to get my hands around his neck.” She says, no longer scratching at her arm. “I would give everything I own, which I guess isn’t much now that he’s burned it all up. Just like with what he’s done to you.”

You blink, coming back into the room. What did she say?

She presses the button on the wall, the one that’ll summon the nurse. Your eyes briefly flicker to the morphling bag to see that it is getting low. “We’ll get him for what he did to them, (Y/n). We’ll make him pay.”

“Please, not now.” You murmur, looking back to the flower vase. You won’t be able to handle this.

“What?” Johanna asks, you can see her move to sit up out of the corner of your eye. “He murdered your family, (Y/n), and you’re acting like it doesn’t even matter.”

“I said, not now.” You snap, getting to your feet. “I know that they’re dead, Johanna. They’re my family, not yours!”

Her eyes narrow. “Then why are you just sitting there?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” You shout, throwing your hand in her direction. “Sit in a fucking hospital bed, hooked up to morphling like some fuckin’ addict and complain all day?” You shake your head. “I couldn’t even hold a funeral for them.”

The room is quiet for a long moment, all you can hear are your breaths, tears building in your eyes. You’ve blown it.

“(Y/n)--” 

“No,” You cry, wiping away the first tear that falls. Your feet begin to back you toward the door, eager to make your escape. “Just, no, Johanna. All I wanted was to be left alone.”

You turn, reaching for the door handle and swinging it open at the same time the nurse tries to come in. You’re already moving though, you slam right into her shoulder, almost flattening her against the doorway entirely. And you don’t stop to apologize, letting her scoff at you.

You’re halfway down the hall by the time you hear the door click shut behind you.

--

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is realsed on october 31st, at midnight!!

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna fanfic #johanna oneshot #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #angst #anon #ask #3k celebration #request

[ilguna]

☼ harm's way (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you would do anything for her, including killing anyone that lays a hand on her.

warnings; swearing, gore, death mention, murder plot, torture mention, violence.

wc; 3.4k

–

“(Y/n), you need to step back.”

A hand is placed on your shoulder, trying to pull you away from the gap in the floor. It’s the only open window you have to see the arena below, and it’s the one being used for the claw. Currently picking up the tributes at the tree below, one by one.

“Don’t touch me!” You snap, slapping Haymitch’s hand away. “I’m trying to see.”

“There’s a less dangerous way to do it. There’s cameras on the bottom of the hovercraft, you can go into the Control Room to see.” He tells you.

“As if I give a shit.” Your face twists when you glance at him, “I’m not going in there, either.”

You’re hanging over the gap by a single hand, held tightly onto the perfectly placed handle. It’s usually used for those who are pulling people into the hovercraft, like those coming inside from the ladder. This is where Haymitch wants to be, no doubt. It’s easier and faster than dragging the bodies off of the claw, but either way, the claw will make it difficult.

You can’t let him be here, though. He wouldn’t be searching the ground the same way that you are, looking for Johanna. Plutarch’s saying that there’s only three people at the tree, and you don’t believe him. How could you? There’s got to be more. There’s more than three tributes left in this stupid rebel alliance that they organized. They’re supposed to be rescuing everyone out of the arena, but right now, they don’t seem so concerned about that.

The claw’s coming up faster now that it doesn’t have to fight against the air bellowing out of the bottom. In the claw’s clutches is Beetee, unconscious with char marks along his body. Haymitch works to grab him by his arms, pulling him into the hovercraft. And immediately, without hesitation, they send the claw back down again.

You watch as Haymitch gets to his knees, pinning Beetee’s forearm down, grabbing out a sterilized scalpel from the first aid kit that they ripped off the wall as soon as Katniss got inside of the hovercraft. They needed to bandage her arm before she lost any more blood from Johanna ripping the tracker out.

The sight of the knife slicing through skin is only slightly nauseating, mostly because you’ve seen worse. The skin doesn’t even resist the knife because of the sharpness, making it easy to open up his arm. It’s only a second later when the blood starts gushing out of the wound, running down Beetee’s dark skin.

Haymitch sticks his fingers inside, absolutely not sanitary, defeating the purpose of the sterilized knife. Beetee begins to squirm at the pain, letting out a noise, but doesn’t wake up during the process. Haymitch pulls out the tracker, inspects it for only a second, and then tosses it through the gap in the floor. You’re able to watch it fall for the first few seconds, and then it disappears completely. Like a water droplet out of a rain cloud.

The claw secures around another person. You dare to lean down more, hoping to get a better look at who it is, hoping it’s her dark hair that you find. 

“(Y/n)!” Haymitch snaps at you, “Don’t.”

“Well then, who is it?” You ask, rolling your eyes, “Since you have the cameras and whatnot.”

“It’s Finnick!” Plutarch shouts from the Control Room. “We still have access to the trackers. From what I can tell, JOhanna and Peeta are still too far to be rescued, unless they come right now.”

You whip around to look at the room, even though you can’t see Plutarch because of the wall that divides the rooms. Your eyebrows turn downward, “We are not leaving Johanna in there!”

“We’ll be left no choice, (Y/n). We have to get Katniss to safety.” Haymitch reasons.

“But we’ll leave Johanna?” You ask, pissed, “Blight died for this! We’re not leaving her!”

“If we stay, we risk getting shot down by the Capitol, and this will all be for nothing.” He argues, “Do you really think that Johanna would rather you die than leave her behind?”

“Haymitch, I don’t think you understand either of us very well if you have to ask that fucking question.” You stare at him, “I would actually rather die than leave her behind. They’ll be taken by the Capitol.”

“You don’t think we know that?”

You sigh through your nose, “Obviously not if you’re suggesting we leave them both! Forget Peeta, do you have even the slightest idea of what they’ll do to Johanna because she knows rebel secrets? They’ll kill her! And before that, they’ll torture the information out of her!”

“She knew the risks when she agreed to help.” Plutarch is coming out of the room, heading your way, “And so did you. We took the precaution to tell her only what she needed to know, the same way we did with Beetee, Finnick, Cecelia, Seeder—”

“To hell with you!” You shout, cutting him off.

The claw has made its way up again, and still, there’s no sign of Johanna or Peeta coming into the clearing next to the lightning tree. You knew this was a bad idea. You can’t believe you agreed to let her go in there instead of you. You begged her to take the mentoring position because it was safer.

You couldn’t tell her no when she asked you to let her do something like this for once, not when you take away big decisions like this from her normally.

“Fuck, Johanna.” You murmur, leaning over the gap.

“Finnick’s got to be the last one.” Plutarch says, checking his watch.

“No, we can hold on for another minute.” You tell him, “One more minute.”

“Yes, and then another four minutes to send down the claw and bring it up again.” He scoffs, “Pack it up.”

“No!” You shout, “Just wait! You don’t—!”

“They’re on their way, (Y/n).” Haymitch tells you.

He’s got Finnick’s arm in the same position that he had Peeta. Only this time, Finnick seems to be wide awake. His lips are moving, but no words are coming out. Something must’ve happened at the tree if they’ve all been rendered useless like that. Finnick surely would help defend Johanna like this, right? Right?

“I don’t care!” You slam your foot into the metal flooring.

Plutarch ignores you, pressing a button on the wall, and you watch in horror as the floor begins to close up, sealing the only passage to your girlfriend. “Bring us to Thirteen!” He shouts to the pilot.

“No!” You cry, “That’s not fair! You can’t!”

“Life isn’t fair!” Plutarch yells back at you, tired of your behavior, “A rebellion isn’t fair! Johanna knew what she was getting herself into. She made the decision, you just need to live with it.”

You begin to cross the room wordlessly, going straight for him for speaking to you like this. Haymitch reaches out to grab you with his bloodied hand, and you slam your boot into his shoulder, sending him backwards away from you. You barely miss Finnick’s fingers when you stomp over him, picking up speed the closer you get to Plutarch.

He begins to retreat into the Control Room. “Stop,” He orders you, “This has gone far enough.”

“Or what?” You snarl, “You gonna leave me behind, too?”

He presses a button from the inside, likely hoping that it’ll block you from getting inside. You slide your arm through the space, unconcerned about harming yourself. The door, unable to shut with an object in the way, flies back open, allowing you access.

“(Y/n)!” Haymitch shouts behind you.

You corner Plutarch in the control room, grabbing the front of his nice Capitol suit with both hands, slamming him against the wall first, before throwing him off to the side. He can’t catch his balance, so he falls to the ground. Haymitch stops where he stands at one end of the table, knowing better than to get in your way.

“You’ll regret this, Plutarch.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth.

“Is that a threat?” He asks, glaring at you.

“It’s a motherfucking promise.” You hiss at him, balling your hands into fists, doing everything you can not to kill him here. They’ll arrest you in Thirteen and you’ll never see the light of day again. Or worse, they won’t take you seriously and put you and your demands at the bottom of their priority list. “If Johanna isn’t saved out of the Capitol before she’s killed, you will wish you could come back to this moment and rescue her out of the arena. If she’s killed, then you can consider yourself dead too, because I won’t stop.”

—

Johanna will be here soon.

That’s what you continue to tell yourself as the minutes tick by, with still no hovercraft containing them. You lost count of how many times you’ve asked Plutarch how much longer until you get word—if he has even the faintest idea of a timeline to go off of.

Katniss and Finnick have done their best to ease your mind and try to keep all of you occupied while you wait. You’ve been all over District Thirteen today. You started off in Special Defense, where you waited for updates. They sat down to tie knots to keep themselves busy, and you went down to the cafeteria long enough to eat lunch before returning.

When there was still nothing, the three of you wandered your way down to the shooting range. You all took turns blowing things up, but it didn’t last for long, not with your anxiety eating away at the back of your mind. You gave up, and sat down and watched as they tried to keep their own spirits up.

All you could think about was how you were going to have to kill a whole team of people if they failed this rescue mission. You’re a lot of things, a murderer being one of them, but you aren’t a liar. Especially not to Plutarch. You still can’t believe they didn’t ask you if you wanted to go to the Capitol as a volunteer to help rescue the victors. You’ve got the experience after all.

Either way, they got bored of blowing stuff up, so at 15:00 you three moved to a room full of screens and computers to watch as Beetee and his team tried to dominate the airwaves against the Capitol. Who he was in the arena didn’t even compare to who he was in that exact moment. You were seeing a completely new person.

The interview that Katniss did in hopes of a distraction was just enough to let the Capitol know that she’s still alive and kicking. It’s Finnick’s interview that gets the main focus, because it single handedly turns the attention back onto Snow for how he’d unfairly treated the victors. And worse, the fact that he’s betraying the people around him. 

You’re only briefly featured at the end. You show up in the pit that was bombed, arms across your chest, telling the story on the day you came home from your Victory Tour after being defiant the whole time, refusing to bend to his will. That’s the day you found your entire family gone.

The whole hour was full of Beetee and the Capitol struggling, going back and forth to keep control over what’s being broadcasted. They give up on smothering Beetee, trying to work another angle by feeding regular afternoon news. When it doesn’t work, they then try to shut down the system entirely. Beetee doesn’t let it happen, they override the blackout and manage to keep control until the very last word that leaves your mouth. 

Gone.

“Let it go!” Beetee said, throwing up his hands and scooting his chair away from the desk. He used a cloth to wipe the sweat that drenched his face. “If they’re not out of there by now, they’re all dead.” And when he turned around in his chair, he was faced with the three of you, each reacting to his words in a different manner. He wasn’t concerned. “It was a good plan, though. Did Plutarch show it to you?”

When none of you gave him the response he was expecting, he took you to another room to show you how the team of volunteers in the Capitol had tried to free the underground prisoners. All while a combination of series of events allowed it to happen in the first place. A knockout gas through the Tribute Center’s ventilation, a power failure, a bomb detonation in a government building, and the disruption broadcast.

Beetee was triumphant when he found out that the plan was hard to follow, because that meant the Capitol did, too.

“Like your electricity trap in the arena?” Katniss asked.

“Exactly. And see how well that worked out?” Beetee asked.

After that, the three of you went over to Command to sit and wait for the word, but you were pushed out because they were discussing serious war business. Instead, you moved to Special Defense to sit in there instead.

That’s where you’ve been for the past few hours.

Katniss and Finnick tie their knots with their ropes, not speaking to one another, while you pace the room impatiently. If it bothers either of them, they don’t speak on it, allowing you to get the bottled energy out. You’re not sure how much time passes before you’re being offered dinner, but all of you deny it. 

Katniss’ fingers begin to bleed, but this doesn’t stop her. Finnick gives up on the knots, and ends up sitting on the floor, hunched over with his head between his knees. Katniss makes a miniature noose.

“Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?” Katniss asks.

“No.” He says. He doesn’t speak for a long time after this, but follows up with, “She crept up on me.”

“And what about you, (Y/n)?” Katniss asks.

“What about me?” You pause long enough to see her face.

“When did you find out you loved Johanna?”

It’s a genuine question, she must be trying to figure her and Peeta out, that’s the only explanation that makes sense. You press your lips together, eyebrows screwed as you go back to pacing the room.

“On the Victory Tour, when I figured out she was the only person that actually cared.” 

Katniss doesn’t ask anymore questions, and you’re grateful. However, your thoughts turn dark in the matter of minutes, as you begin to figure out how exactly you’ll be able to kill them all, if your girlfriend doesn’t come back. Who will you go first? How will you get them all in the same room? Surely, they’ll want to offer their condolences to you, and you’ll be able to attack them, then. You’ll start with Plutarch, of course, for moving that stupid hovercraft before Johanna reached the tree.

And then you’ll escape, however it must be done, because you’ll be damned if they try to kill you for their own mistakes.

You don’t know what time it is when the door finally opens, revealing Haymitch on the other side. “They’re back. We’re wanted in the hospital.” Katniss opens her mouth to speak, Haymitch shakes his head, “That’s all I know.”

You’re the first to move out of the room, unapologetically pushing Haymitch out of the way. The two of you haven’t talked to each other in the few weeks you’ve been here. You’ve been so angry with him, that each time you even see his face, you resist the urge to tear it apart.

The moment you step foot into the hospital, you’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of chaos. You stop a few steps in, unsure where to start. There’s too many people in here being treated, voices shouting over others. The volunteers seem to have taken a  few hits themselves.

You’re sweeping the hospital, when you find her. She’s unconscious on a gurney, being pushed by a doctor into a private room. You almost don’t recognize her, because she doesn’t look anything like she did the last time you saw her. Her beautiful dark hair is gone. Now, her head has been shaved and her skin is covered in bruises and fresh scabs.

You can’t help the wave of anger that hits you at once, “Johanna!” You shout, starting toward her.

One of the nurses following the gurney moves to block you, but you elbow her out of the way, following them all the way to the room they’re taking her to. You won’t let her out of your sight.

“Miss—you can’t be in here!”

“She’s my girlfriend!” You yell over her, “You’ll have to drag me out of this room to get me away. You hear me?”

The nurse doesn’t look happy, but she decides you’re not worth the effort, giving up the rules she wants to throw back at you. You quietly take a seat on a stool in the corner of the room, giving them plenty of space to work. It’s hard not to intervene when they harshly grab her and jerk her in certain directions. You have to remind yourself that they’re helping her.

In the span of ten short minutes, they seem to be slowing down. They’ve taken several blood samples to run tests on her, have an IV running out of her arm, and wires stuck to her body to track her heartbeat. She’s also hooked up to several machines to keep track of every little thing about her. 

“She was sedated when we received her, she should be coming off of it soon.” The nurse tells you, “Let her wake up on her own.”

“I will.” You move the stool closer so that you can sit next to her, “Trust me.”

“Use the call button if you need help. We’ll come back to check on her soon.”

She leaves the room after that, letting it be just you and Johanna. You reach over to hold her hand, gently moving your thumb over her bruised skin. Once this rebellion is over, the people who did this to her will get what’s coming for them. Which means you need to let it go for now. You’ll come back for them. You always go.

It’s not even five minutes later when the door opens to the room, and you see Haymitch standing in the doorway, apprehensive, “She hasn’t woken up yet?”

“No, the nurse said they were sedated.”

“It was the gas they used in the ventilation.” He clarifies, “Listen, if she shows any sign of hostility—”

“She won’t, not with me.”

“That’s what we thought with Peeta, until he attacked Katniss.”

Your face twists, “How? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s got her own team of doctors looking over her right now. Peeta tried to strangle her as soon as she came into the room. The nurses want to set someone up with you, but because Annie didn’t attack Finnick, I told them not to.”

“Thank you, Haymitch.” You look back at Johanna, her eyebrows are twisting.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says, “We should have a meeting after this.”

“I’ll come out in a bit.” You agree.

He nods, happy with your compliance. The door clicks shut behind him.

Johanna lets out a noise, a whine as she squeezes her eyes, and then opens them suddenly. She takes in her surroundings wordlessly, eyes searching around her, looking for something. And then her head jerks in your direction.

You watch her entire body relax, “(Y/n).”

“Johanna.” You breathe, getting off the stool.

She opens her arms for you, you pull her to sit up, gently squeezing her in the hug. You can feel her shaky breath on your shoulder, you rub her back.

“You’ve been here the entire time?” She asks, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” You pull away, touching her cheek, “I tried to make them wait for you, but Plutarch said it was too risky. I tried.”

“I believe you.” She gives you a small smile, but it vanishes soon after. “I missed you.”

“I fought for you everyday.” You tell her, “I’m never letting you do that ever again, Johanna.”

You guide her face to you, so that you’re able to press your lips against hers.

When you pull away, you’re able to watch the tears trickle out from the corners of her eyes. You cup her face with both hands, using your thumbs to carefully rub the tears from her eyes.

“Every last one of them will pay, my darling. I’ll make sure of it.”

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna fanfic #johanna oneshot #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna x y/n #thg #the hunger games #requested #angst

[ilguna]

☼ home (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you don't have to worry anymore. you're safe, and so is she.

warnings; swearing, death mention.

wc; 1.4k

–

The train doors open with a gentle gush of air, revealing your home to you. The sun is particularly bright today, the warmth washing over your skin. You’re met with the sight of a bustling train station, and green trees stretching into the blue sky. 

Johanna’s the first to step onto the train station, taking in a deep breath through her nose. You can see her close her eyes, as she holds the scent of pine trees for a long moment, basking in the fact that you’ve made it. You’re back in District Seven, after a long year.

She lets the breath out through her lips, and then turns to you with her hand outstretched for yours. You intertwine your fingers, squeezing tightly as you walk to join her side. Together, the two of you go down the cement steps, taking your first step onto District Seven soil.

It’s not perfect by any means, there’s still burnt down buildings and rubble. Volunteers are driving around carts, some are stocked with food, which they’re dropping off in busy parts of the district. Others have greenery, more flowers, more trees, spreading seeds in the barren parts, trying to bring back the color it once had.

There’s a few people that greet you as you come in. You try to say hello to as many people as possible, even starting conversations, but Johanna keeps pulling you along, refusing to let go of your hand. You wave goodbye, and promise that you’ll come back and visit. You’re going to be here for a while.

You don’t blame Johanna for not slowing down. She doesn’t want to talk to any of these people. No matter how many times you demanded for them to keep the two of you out of the news, regardless of people asking for updates—they never listened. It’s the same for Peeta, and Annie, and Katniss. 

Everyone who's been affected by Snow is the hottest topic. You thought that once this war ended, you’d never have to deal with the spotlight ever again. You don’t want people asking about how you are. You just want them to leave you alone.

If you’re feeling like this, you can’t imagine what Johanna’s been bottling inside of her since Katniss shot that arrow at Coin. The way she brushed off the interrogation about what you two might’ve known, because the government officials that had been temporarily elected thought that she was close friends with Katniss, when that wasn’t the case.

Johanna tolerated Katniss. 

She hasn’t said a word about the incident, when normally, she’d be talking your ear off about it. How stupid they are for coming at her, how stupid Katniss is for killing Coin, how much she wishes she could’ve been the one to kill Coin and Snow. How much she would’ve paid to see the rebels’ faces when their head leader was killed.

You don’t know what’s happening with her, and it’s beginning to worry you. You’re starting to think about contacting that doctor that’s been treating Katniss. If he thinks he can help, then you’re going to want it.

You know Johanna’s been through a lot. For fuck’s sake, you know better than what anyone else does. She told you what happened in the Training Center, what they did to her. She told you the various things they did to Peeta to destroy him mentally. The worst part was they kept lying to her. They convinced her you were somewhere in that building, and everytime she held back, you got beat for it.

It explained that look on her face when you came running into the District Thirteen hospital. She was coming off the sedative that they were given to ensure a quiet escape without any complications. Her face lit up, and then she was so confused on how you were okay. Where were the cuts and bruises? How were you standing in front of her just fine?

What should’ve been a happy reunion turned into an interrogation as she tried to figure out the truth. She wasn’t kind about it by any means, she got a little aggressive, grabbing at your arms hard enough to leave bruises. The conversation was cut short minutes later when Peeta strangled Katniss. And with the way Johanna was reacting with you, she was whisked away to make sure she was okay. 

The only person that got to have their happy reunion was Finnick.

Johanna still feels guilty for the bruise. You’re glad that it healed quickly, because now you spend most of your time convincing her that there wasn’t a bruise at all. You don’t know what she’s talking about.

Victor’s Village is miraculously still standing when you come up to it. There’s a few letters missing from the sign, probably because of the storm that ripped through here a few weeks ago. It’s as if mother nature knew something wasn’t right, having her people fight each other. She took all of her tears out here. You two were told that it caused a flood.

Your houses were untouched, though. The neighborhood is built to be able to filter out the water. This had to be the nicest place in the district at any given time, in case pictures were to be taken.

It’s a ghost town, walking through the street, knowing that you two are the only surviving victors from here. Blight died in the arena. As for the others, they died trying to get out of here, or they were killed by their own people surrounding them. It’s a tragedy. You can’t imagine having that many people turn on you.

Johanna leads you straight to her house. You follow her up the steps, letting go of her hand when she reaches for the doorknob. You’re about to say that it might be locked, when she swings the front door wide open. Leave it to her to have her door unlocked for months. 

She disappears inside, not waiting for you. You stop at the top, turning around to see the dead plants, the dry fountain. You can’t wait for it to come back alive again. You just need to bring it up to the volunteers. If you’re going to be expected to live here, it needs to be restored to how it was before the Quarter Quell. The greenery is what made Victor’s Village home.

You go through the door after that, shutting it behind you. Johanna’s already sitting on her couch, staring at the television. You’re fairly surprised that her house wasn’t raided, considering the television sets can be pawned for lots of money. You guess that there was no point in doing it.

She doesn’t turn it on, doesn’t even move when you take a seat next to her. To think you sat here and watched Snow announce the Quell. The way you and Johanna numbly sat here, afraid of the months to come, and the aftermath of the Games. You two agreed that whoever got chosen would go inside, and there would be no fight to volunteer over each other.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Johanna breathes, voice quiet. “We’re done.”

You smile, “Just me and you from now on.”

She nods, eyes panning down to her hands. You watch as her face twists, bottom lip trembling. You’re wrapping your arms around her when the first tear slides down her cheek. She grips onto you tightly, letting out a sob.

You close your eyes, tilting your head back to resist the tears that want to join her. Now that you know there won’t be another tragedy, that it’s just you two here for the rest of your lives if you want it. You’re safe. You’re safe from the terror that’s been following you for your entire life.

The tears are hot on your cheeks, you breathe out shakily.

“They’re gone.” She cries, sniffing hard. “All of them. What are we going to do?”

“Honor them.” You press your cheek to the top of her head, where her hair has begun to grow back, soft and healthy. “We’re here for them, so we’ll live for them. We never have to worry again, Johanna.”

“I know.” 

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[ilguna]

☼ popcorn kernels (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; Johanna takes you to the drive-in to spend more time with you.

warnings; swearing,

wc; 1.2k

notes: modern au!

–

“Johanna, you really are terrible at making popcorn.” You tell her, digging through the bag. The bottom has so many kernels that you wouldn’t even think she cooked it if it weren’t for the popcorn on top.

“(Y/n).” She swats at your hands, tired of your judgement. “That’s for the movie, knock it off!”

“How long did you put it in the microwave for? An hour?” You laugh, pulling out a burnt piece. “How did you manage to burn half and not cook the other?”

“If you’re going to complain, you don’t have to have any.”

You reach back in to grab a kernel, rolling it back and forth between your fingers. A bad idea comes to mind, and you can’t help the smile that comes over your face. You pop it in your mouth, and turn your body to face Johanna, shooting it at the side of her neck.

Johanna slams on the breaks, forcing you to catch yourself on the dash. You let out a choked noise, trying not to laugh at her reaction. She clenches her jaw, picking off the wet kernel from where it’s stuck to her neck, and rolls down the window. She slowly turns to glare at you, flicking it out the window.

You sputter out a laugh.

“Put the bag of popcorn away or I’m going to strangle you.”

“Fine.” You zip the bag up, placing it back with the other snacks she bought earlier.

“Thank you.” She eyes you, making sure you have nothing else planned.

She pulls the car forward to the booth, where you two need to buy tickets. She turns and gives the lady a smile. The lady smiles back, “Hi, what can I do for you two tonight?”

“Two tickets to Safe and Sound, please.” Johanna pulls her card out of her wallet, holding it out with two fingers.

It’s not often you and Johanna go on dates together, because of your conflicting interests and idea of fun. For her, she doesn’t necessarily like to go out and have a nice dinner. The whole point of dressing up to go out, just to take it off when you get home is a little beside her. As for you, it’s the time spent together, and not having to worry about cooking your own meal. Instead, you can devote that time to asking about what she’s been up to when you’re not there.

This doesn’t mean that she doesn’t like to go out and enjoy other activities, though. She just likes to make it an all-day trip, rather than just a few hours, to maximize time spent together. Which can be nice sometimes, but other times your social battery is sensitive, and there’s only so much you can handle.

She’ll take you anywhere you ask. You could plan a trip to a neighboring city for the day, and she’d try to clear her entire schedule to make it work for you. And to compromise, you have an open mind when she plans day dates, because you know she’s sacrificed her time, where she’d likely rather be doing anything else.

There’s nothing you haven’t done yet. You’ve gone to plenty of movies, whether it be drive-in or theaters. You’ve seen musical theater, too actually. You’ve gone to amusement parks, concerts and comedy shows. She’s taken you to the beach, park picnics, and window shopping.

This time, she’s decided to take you back to the drive-in theater because your guys’ favorite movie is being featured this week. You watch Safe and Sound at least once a week, and sometimes you’re watching it in the background while doing other things, but other times you’ll sit down and watch it.

It’s one of those movies that you can’t get sick of. You will say though, if you and Johanna ever do break up, you won’t be able to watch the movie ever again without thinking about her. You found this movie with her, which means it’ll be left with her.

“You two are all set!” The lady chirps, “You’ll be screen seven, and on the receipt is the station you’ll tune into. Enjoy!”

“Thank you.” Johanna smiles, beginning to drive away.

She rolls up her window, sitting up in the seat as she starts looking at the signs to make sure you’re heading in the right direction. This drive-in has nine screens, and it’s still fairly popular, despite an actual movie theater being preferred these days because of the air conditioning and the seats.

You and Johanna like it because it’s generally more intimate. You don’t have to worry about disturbing others when you speak during a quiet part of the movie. And you’re able to sit on your phone when you get to the slow part of the movie. With tickets being cheap, you don’t have to worry about wasted money.

“We should’ve come sooner.” Johanna murmurs, making a face, “It’s so dark already.”

“Yup.” You look out the window. “I guess I was right then, huh?”

“You did not tell me we should leave early.” She says.

“You said that last time, too.” You let out a laugh, “It’s okay Johanna, maybe we’ll come early next time so we’re not blinding the other cars when we back in.”

“(Y/n), stop.” Johanna shakes her head, “I forgot about that part.”

You smile to yourself. You have this argument every time, and every time she swears that it'll be the last time you show up after the daylight’s gone, because her headlights have a vendetta against others. They’re automatic, which means that sometimes, when you’re surrounded by darkness, they’ll turn on the brights to help out.

Johanna can’t figure out how to turn off the automatic setting. It never works.

Johanna follows the road to the seventh screen, where you’re able to see that the lot is half full. You sink in your seat, trying to hide from the windows. She briefly glares in your direction.

“Don’t do that.”

“It’s too late.” You tell her, taking off the seatbelt as you try to make home on the floor, “You’re on your own.”

“No, I need you to spot me.”

“It’s not happening.”

“I fucking hate you.” She sighs, you watch as her hands reach to mess with the headlights. You press your lips together. “I don’t understand.”

“I can pull out the manual.”

“We are definitely not doing that.” She tells you, “Just be quiet down there if you’re not going to be helpful.”

“That was helpful!” You laugh. “I have an idea, how about you just turn off your headlights entirely?”

Johanna’s fingers pause, “That might work.”

“Just don’t run over anyone.”

“If I do, I promise it won’t be on purpose.” 

Johanna finds a nice space to pull into, and gives you the clear on when you can get up from the floor. You immediately start pulling the snacks and drinks from the backseat to the front. You drape a blanket over your lap, watching as Johanna sends her seat flying into the backward so she has more leg room.

“Give me the popcorn.” She holds out her hand.

You pull out both bags and drop them on her lap, “Sure.”

“You’re so ungrateful.”

“No, my standards are higher than yours.” You snort, “You know what, give me a bag, actually.”

She squints at you suspiciously, “No.”

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[ilguna]

☼ deadly pt1 (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you and Johanna join the star squad to invade the capitol.

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, gun use and mention, gore, blood, classic hunger games stuff.

wc; 6k

part two, part three, part four.

–

“Johanna Mason, report for assessment.” 

You turn, grabbing her hand before she has a chance to get up and go. She’s expressionless, but you can feel the anxiety radiating off of her. If District Thirteen is going to be targeting your weaknesses during the test, you have a pretty good idea on what they might do to Johanna.

“Remember, deep breaths.” You squeeze her hand, “You’ll want to freak out, but you can hold it in. You’re in control.”

“I know.” She says, a small smile at the corners of her lips, “I’ll see you on the other side.” She leans over, holding your face to give you a quick kiss. 

You let go of her hand, allowing her to head into the back room. As soon as she disappears, you take a deep breath. You know that she’s able to do this, Johanna’s brave and she’ll power through, no matter how uncomfortable she is. She’s passed all the other tests up until this point too, but that was lightwork. If what Katniss heard is true, then there’s more in store for her. 

District Thirteen will target what happened in the Capitol, and it’s a very touchy subject for Johanna. She’ll talk about it to you, because she knows that you’re there to support her. With Finnick, it’s a whole new ordeal. She’ll talk about it in bits and pieces, she just won’t go into detail about it. And Finnick is her best friend.

You rub your hands together, leaning forward, counting down the time until it’s your turn to go inside of the Block. It’s a stage set up to look like the streets of the Capitol, it’s pretty big and it’s as accurate as it can get. You’ve been through the Block already for the group training, but you never really had a chance to take a look around. You were too worried about your teammates and what they were doing.

This time, you won’t get much of a chance either. You’re all going in by yourselves to allow the analyzers a real chance at seeing how you work. Which means you’ll have to be on your toes the entire time, there won’t be any opportunity to stand and admire the area. 

Another name is called, you watch as he goes through the door and it shuts behind him. There’s no specific order they’re taking people, you could be here a while. In the meantime, you take deep breaths and try to calm the electricity you’re feeling in your fingertips, anxious to get it over and done with.

The time ticks away, you can hear as Katniss occasionally adjusts on her seat. You can imagine she’s more worried than you are. She’s expected to perform well, she’s got the whole country looking at her. As for you, you’re a little rusty on the whole survival thing, considering Johanna volunteered for you at the reaping to keep you safe. 

You were mad at her for it, because you wish you could’ve been able to protect her from the Capitol. She’s more outspoken than you are in some areas, and you’re sure they would’ve thought you were useless compared to her. You settled for being her mentor in the Capitol, and got lucky that Haymitch grabbed you before he left with Plutarch.

You remember sitting in that hovercraft, waiting for them to grab Johanna and Peeta, and then watching the doors shut. The urge to throw up and scream at the same time, because you were leaving her behind. You managed to allow Haymitch to explain himself, saying that she’ll be okay, but you knew better. The Capitol would have a field day with her.

You thought, at the very least, that Finnick would be able to help you get through the next few weeks without her. Or that you’d bond in some was with Katniss because Peeta was also in the Capitol, but it didn’t happen. Finnick might as well have been in a coma, because he was never awake longer for five minutes because of his depression with Annie. And Katniss was losing it herself.

You were left with Beetee in the armory, watching him create new gadgets for District Thirteen to use on the Capitol. Coin started by giving you a schedule to follow, she stopped as soon as she realized that you weren’t in the capacity to follow it by any means. You tried, you really did. You were just so slow when it came to moving to do things, showing up late, low effort. She eventually allowed you to sit with Beetee, hoping that some of the life would return to you.

It didn’t, not until they had gone to rescue the half of the victors that they left to be captured. That’s when everyone really came to life, because you’d be able to see your other half. You tried to volunteer to go and be part of the rescue team, but you were denied because of your behavior before, afraid that you’d drag the team down. Instead, you were left to sit in that room with Finnick and Katniss, awaiting the return of your Johanna.

You have her back now, and that’s all that matters anymore.

“(Y/n) (L/n), report for individual assessment.”

“Good luck.” Katniss breathes.

“You too.”

You get up from where you sit, heading toward the door with your head raised. The door opens just wide enough for you to fit through, and shuts automatically. You can hear the lock turn and bolt once it’s against the doorframe. You take one last deep breath, before gathering your supplies and stepping past the line on the floor to get started.

Immediately, your squadron leader, who is nothing but a voice in your earpiece, tells you that you and your squad are looking for surrendering Capitol citizens. You’re instructed to only take in those who can tell you the code that was given over the radio. If they can’t, you have to leave them behind.

It’s pretty simple and straightforward. You navigate the streets with ease, remembering the path you took before to get to the exit. On the way, you’re caught by peacekeepers several times, and manage to escape unscathed each time. There’s a few survivors out, and you accept a few and turn down others. They’re dressed in regular District Thirteen clothes, you were kinda hoping they’d look like the Capitol citizens. 

You were sure that you’d suck by yourself, since you relied on your teammates to tell you when a threat was coming up. A few of them would step on landmines, or forget to put on their gas masks. You barely got through those, so when you got the recommendation to go through this—the official test—you thought it would be a mistake.

You jump in the air when an explosion shakes the ground. You round the corner, trying to figure out the point of the blast, and find the alleyway filled with smoke. You duck behind the wall, watching and waiting to see if it’ll clear, but when it doesn’t, you realize that you’re meant to go through the smoke.

To be safe, you pull your gas mask over your face before heading into the cloud, being wary of where you step, looking for the threat. Halfway, you met with someone laying on the ground. You aim your gun at him for a minute, but when he lifts his head, you see that he’s got the mark of your squad on his clothes.

“Help me.” He wheezes, “Please.”

There’s a pool of blood underneath him, and you can see that his vest is missing, he’s been shot several times between his chest and abdomen.

“Where’s your vest?” You ask, lowering the gun and getting to your knees, “You’re not supposed to take it off.”

“I gave it to a child, she led me to…” He winces, letting out a strangled noise, “Please take me with you.”

Right as you’re about to help, the voice in your ear calmly tells you to leave him behind, it’s not safe to take him. Your face twists, shaking your head, going to unbuckle your backpack, when your fingers freeze in place. You press your lips together. This is your test.

You save people, you’ve been saving people since you were reaped for your Games. It’s a curse that’s been running through your family for years. If you can help, then you do, because it’s what's saved your family several times over. It's what makes you trustworthy and hardworking, and it pays off. It’s the reason why you’re still alive, because you saved someone in the arena, and in turn they sacrificed their life for yours.

You force your hands to let go of the buckle, shaking your head, “I can’t.”

“Please, no, please don’t go!” He begins to shout, “Don’t go! Take me with you!”

You get to your feet, prepping the gun in your hand again, knowing that his pleas are drawing attention to your position. And sure enough, as soon as you make it out of the smoke, you see just how many peacekeepers were coming for you. And in them is a little girl, soot wiped across her face, big eyes. She’s wearing the bulletproof vest, and she has a gun in her hand.

You escape the area, and make it to the other side of the Block with little to no complications. The door is unlocked, you swing it open and step out, and you’re met with congratulations. The soldier grabs your hand, and stamps the back of it, telling you to go to Command.

You take off the vest and gun, setting it in a pile with the rest of the armor. After, you make your way to Command, where Plutarch and Beetee hang out the most often. On the way, you ball your hands into fists, trying to tell yourself that helping others isn’t a weakness, even if they think so.

By the time you reach Command, you’re feeling a little better. When you walk inside, you’re met with several familiar faces, including Johanna and Finnick. They give you a big smile, but when Johanna opens her arms, you hug her tightly. Her breath is shaky in your ear.

You pull away, “Did they use it against you?”

She tilts her head at you, “Guess.”

“You made it through, though.” You touch her face.

“Barely.”

“It’s already a big step.” You tell her, “I’m proud of you.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then Finnick clears his throat, “So what’d they use against you?”

“Kindness.” You say, and don’t elaborate further. 

It’s not long after when Katniss is entering the room. She’s got a smile on her face when she sees you standing around the table. With her being the last member, Plutarch launches into a speech on what you’ll be encountering in the Capitol. He presses a button and a holograph of a part of the Capitol projects, allowing you to see better.

“This, for example, is the area surrounding one of the Peacekeepers’ barracks. Not unimportant, but not the most crucial of targets, and yet look.” Plutarch enters a code, and flashing colors appear, “Each light is called a pod. It represents a different obstacle, the nature of which could be anything from a bomb to a band of mutts. Make no mistake, whatever it contains is designed to either trap or kill you. Some have been in place since the Dark days, others developed over the years. To be honest, I created a fair number myself. This program, which one of our people absconded with when we left the Capitol is our most recent information. They won’t know we have it. But even so, it’s likely that new pods have been activated in the last few months. This is what you will face.”

Silence comes over the room, you can’t find any words to speak. You’re expected to go into the Capitol and be surrounded by traps that could kill you if Snow designed it to. Katniss is the first to move forward, stopping in front of the projection. As if possessed, you, Johanna and Finnick end up next to her, seeing just how many of those pods there are. Katniss cups a rapidly flashing green one in her hands.

Johanna might have saved you from the Quarter Quell, but this will be a whole new nightmare. There’s a hundred of them on this projection alone, which means there are thousands inside of the city that you’ll be navigating through. And hundreds more that are not yet part of the technology. 

Finnick reaches out to touch a red one, “Ladies and gentlemen…” he murmurs.

“Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!” Katniss shouts, and then a laugh comes from her after.

You are not laughing, though. The look you share with Johanna is full of worry and nausea. You can see her retreating, the idea of getting captured and the possibilities of what they’ll do to her this time is endless. You don’t think she should go, as much as she wants to.

“I don’t even know why you bothered to put us victor’s through training, Plutarch.” Katniss says.

“Yeah, we’re already the four best-equipped soldiers you have.” Finnick adds with a grin.

“Do not think that fact escapes me,” He waves his hand, “Now back in line, Soldiers. I have a presentation to finish.”

The four of you resume where you were standing before you moved. Plutarch continues talking about the pods. There’s a point where it zooms out from one block, allowing you to see several more. Too many pods take over the screen, you grit your teeth, thinking about how many people they’ll be sending into the Capitol. How many of them are going to die? Are they going to have this technology too? Or are they going to go in blind?

The meeting finishes, and you’re allowed to leave. You grab Johanna’s hand, and she squeezes hard. The two of you wait in the hallway for Katniss and Finnick, who look just as terrified as you feel.

“What will I tell Annie?” Finnick whispers.

“Nothing,” Katniss says. “That’s what my mother and sister will be hearing from me.”

“If she sees that holograph—” He begins.

“She won’t.” Johanna shakes her head, “It’s classified information. It has to be.”

“Anyway, it’s not like an actual Games.” Katniss says, “Any number of people will survive. We’re just overreacting because—well, you know why. You still want to go, don’t you?”

“Of course. I want to destroy Snow as much as you do.” Finnick says, two pairs of eyes go between you and Johanna.

You don’t want Johanna to go in there, and you don’t want to go either, for that matter. It’s too dangerous, and you just survived the Capitol. The last thing you want is to throw yourself into another round of danger. This time is worse than the last, because it’s unpredictable.

“Well, obviously.” Johanna says. You know that’s her speaking, and not some facade that she’s putting up. Her hatred for the man has only grown since her time in the Capitol.

Now it’s your turn. You force a smile, “Let’s give him what he deserves.”

Katniss nods firmly, “It won’t be like the others. This time Snow will be a player, too.”

Haymitch comes to talk after that, and confirms that he and Beetee will stay here in District Thirteen, while the rest of you go out there. You want to tell him that it’s unfair that he’ll be here safe and sound, while the rest of you go out there, but decide that’s a fight for someone else.

Katniss leaves to go outside during her reflection, Finnick goes to see Annie, and then you’re left there standing with Johanna.

“We’re screwed, aren’t we?” You ask.

She smiles, “You know it, babe.”

—

The next few days are nothing but a blur that you try to keep a grasp on. You’re constantly in the armory, training in the shooting range to make sure that you have a grasp on the gun you’ll be using outside. For an hour a day, you get to use the specialty weapons that Beetee’s designed for each of you.

For Katniss it’s her bow with explosive arrows, with Finnick it’s his throwable trident that returns to his hand if he presses a button on his cuff. You and Johanna have a similar design with axes, blades sharp but the weapon is light.

You’ve also learned about the people you’ll be going in with. Boggs is the man that Katniss seems to be pretty close with already. He’ll be your guide and command in the Capitol. His second is Jackson, a middle-aged woman that does wonders with a scope. There’s the Leeg sisters, who are twins and nearly impossible to tell apart, they’re around the same age as you, Johanna and Finnick. Then there’s Mitchell and Homes, they’re older but their sharpshooting skills are up there with Jackson.

This morning, Plutarch joins you, “Squad Four-Five-One, you have been selected for a special mission,” he begins. “We have numerous sharpshooters, but rather a dearth of camera crews. Therefore, we’ve handpicked the ten of you to be what we call our ‘Star Squad.’ You will be the on-screen faces of the invasion.”

The relief that goes through you is comforting. You will still be in danger in the Capitol, but it should be less than before. However, you think you’re the only one that feels this way.

“What you’re saying is, we won’t be in actual combat.” Gale snaps. He’s Katniss’ friend from District Twelve, something about them hunting every week together to feed their families. They’re close.

“You will be in combat, but perhaps not always on the front line. If one can even isolate a front line in this type of war.” Plutarch says.

“None of us wants that.” Finnick remarks, a few people agree, “We’re going to fight.”

“You’re going to be as useful to the war effort as possible,” Plutarch says, not worried about their feelings. “And it’s been decided that you are of most value on television. Just look at the effect Katniss had running around in that Mockingjay suit. Turned the whole rebellion around. Do you notice how she’s the only one not complaining? It’s because she understands the power of that screen.”

Your mouth twitches.

“But it’s not all pretend, is it?” Katniss asks. “That’d be a waste of talent.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of real targets to hit. But don’t get blown up. I’ve got enough on my plate without having to replace you. Now get to the Capitol and put on a good show.”

The morning you ship out, you manage to convince them to let you outside in the woods for a little bit to get some fresh air. Johanna’s too busy talking to Finnick and Annie for her to notice your absence, and you’re glad because you need some time alone with your thoughts.

One deep breath, and you’re sent back in time, before you left District Seven to go to the Capitol for the Quarter Quell. This is what you needed the entire time you’ve been here, instead of breathing recycled air in the cement tomb. You need the woods, more than Katniss does, because this is your home.

You wander around for a while, before crouching next to a tree, picking at the bark slightly. You want the Capitol to go smoothly. For once in your life, you want things to go smoothly without any hiccups. You need Johanna to stay safe, and you need your friends to stay alive. You can’t lose anymore people.

You’ll do whatever it takes. 

You spend a good thirty minutes out there, before the guards come to retrieve you to leave on the hovercraft. When Johanna asks you where you went, you tell her that you cleared your mind so that this would be easier for you. You can’t be worried about anything if you’re going to do this.

The hovercraft takes you to District Twelve, where Katniss and Gale are stiff as boards the entire time you’re out there. She manages to tell you that you’re outside of the bombed area, and you should be glad that you’re not inside of it. You pay your respects as close to the border as you can before going back to the cargo car.

In there, you’re packed like sardines with other soldiers, who sleep with their heads on their packs. You spend a few days there while they bring you to one of the mountain tunnels that lead to the Capitol. As soon as you’re there, you’re forced to make the rest of the trip on foot, which is a six hour walk, only allowed to walk on the green paint that marks safe passage.

On the other side is the rebel camp, a ten block radius that’s crawling with soldiers. The rebels pushed the peacekeepers out a week ago, losing hundreds of soldiers but they made this area safe to set base. Your squad is led to an area that’s reserved for you, and there you pitch your tents to spend the night. 

You meet Katniss’ camera crew, they’re nice but only grow a group that’ll already draw a lot of attention. For three days, you mill around the streets of the Capitol and do meaningless tasks for them to film to show the Capitol and the districts. None of the real work is handed to you, Katniss, Finnick or Johanna. It’s all saved for the qualified soldiers.

The streets have mostly been cleared of pods, because you’re trailing after the soldiers that have gone before you. The paper maps are interesting to look at, but you get bored of the grid quickly. You’ve been on the streets before, but this is entirely too far out. Victor’s are given free reign towards the heart, where the Tribute Center is. The maps don’t show the pods, either.

The only device that does is held by Boggs, since he’s the commander. And it’s unusable unless his voice activates it. It’s called a Holo. It’s fairly interesting to see the blocks you’ve traveled and the pods that were nearby but you never tripped. You’re clueless without it.

On the fourth day, one of the Leeg sisters hits a pod by accident, and it’s mislabeled as well. You’re prepared for a swarm of mutated gnats, but instead it shoots out a sunburnt of metal darts. One of which finds her brain, which kills her before the medics can get to you.

Plutarch promises a replacement.

The next evening, you’re met with Peeta. You haven’t officially met him yet, since there was no need to before. He’s standing in front of you, no handcuffs or guards to keep him in check, and he’s got a gun slung over his shoulder. With his reaction to Katniss that first day he was in District Thirteen, Boggs takes the gun as soon as he’s close enough, and goes to make a call.

“It won’t matter.” Peeta says unbothered, “The president assigned me herself. She decided the propos needed some heating up.”

When Boggs comes back, he’s fuming. The first thing he does is tell Jackson that she needs to organize a two-person, round-the-clock guard on Peeta. Then he takes Katniss to the other side of camp to talk to her privately.

Jackson looks between the group of you, thinking about her choices. When she doesn’t immediately choose, you lift your hand, catching her attention, “What is it, Soldier (L/n)?”

“I’ll do it, for however long you like.”

“Me too.” Finnick says, “You can put us on together.”

“Then who am I going to be with?” Johanna asks, face twisting, “Since when are you two best friends?”

“You haven’t noticed?” You muse.

Jackson nods, “Okay, we’ll have you and Finnick take first shift, then you and Johanna can take second. We’ll break you and do…” she continues, but you stop paying attention unless your name is mentioned. 

Peeta looks up at you, eyes fairly aggressive, looking you up and down to size you as an opponent. If he thinks of doing anything funny, he’ll be in for a surprise. You’re doing this because he needs good people to surround himself with to remind him that not everyone's the same. There is variety.

By the time Katniss comes back, the rotation’s been made, and she isn’t a part of it. Peeta’s pitching his tent next to Jackson and Boggs’ so they can keep a better eye on him. Right on cue, Katniss asks, “What time is my watch?”

Jackson squints at her, “I didn’t put you in the rotation.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure you could really shoot Peeta, if it came to it.”

Katniss pauses for half a second, before loudly saying, “I wouldn’t be shooting Peeta. He’s gone. Johanna’s right. It’d be just like shooting another one of the Capitol’s mutts.”

You send Johanna a concerned look, she shakes her head slightly, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, that sort of comment isn’t recommending you either.” Jackson says.

“Put her in the rotation.” Boggs says.

“Midnight to four. You’re on with me.” Jackson shakes her head, writing it down.

When the dinner whistle is blown, you start your way over with your victor friends, with the exception of Katniss, who is suspiciously close to Gale, whispering. She’s replaced by Peeta, who’s definitely not really absorbing his surroundings. Regardless, you turn to him.

“I’m (Y/n).” You hold out your hand, “I’m from District Seven, I won the year after Johanna did.”

“Nice to meet you.” He takes your hand, shaking it once before letting it go.

“That cake you made for Finnick and Annie’s wedding was gorgeous. Do you paint often?” You ask.

“When I have the time.” He shrugs.

“Oh, that’s right.” You smile, “That was your talent for the Victory Tour, wasn’t it? After years of cake icing I’m sure it paid off. I couldn’t think of a single thing worth showing for mine. I almost named every tree in alphabetical order just for the kick of it.”

Peeta cracks a smile, “That would’ve been entertaining.”

“She had a song and everything.” Johanna sighs, “It was truly insufferable.”

Finnick’s face twists, looking at you, “You have never told me that before.”

“That’s because I have shame, Finnick.” You snort, they laugh too. Peeta shakes his head with a smile.

Your squad gathers in a circle to eat dinner. You keep small talk going with Peeta, trying to form some friendship. The looks you get from Katniss and Gale are no less than hostile because of it. You’re not sure what they want you to do. You’re not going to shut him out, this easily could’ve been how Johanna turned out. It would've been if she weren’t so strong.

By the time you’re exhausted and ready to go to bed, you and Peeta are on some level of understanding. You go to bed with Johanna in the tent, huddled up in your own sleeping bags. It’s much too cold for you to fall asleep, even though Johanna passes out without struggle. You only lay there for another half hour before you unzip it and settle it over Johanna.

You leave the tent and go to sit at the center of camp, where the heater’s going to be much more enjoyable than shivering. You sit as close as humanly possible, rubbing your arms. Jackson and Katniss are already out here to watch Peeta, who’s fiddling with a rope that Finnick must’ve given him.

Peeta breaks the silence, “These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you. Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth.”

Katniss doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as an ally.”

“Ally.” Peeta repeats slowly. “Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. FIancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I’ll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out. The problem is, I can’t tell what's real anymore, and what’s made up.”

Peeta’s accidentally disturbed the fragile serenity in the camp, because you can hear a few people stir in their tents. Either they’re light sleepers or they haven't been sleeping, and they’re stuck in the same miserable loop you were in. 

Finnick speaks from his sleeping bag in the shadow of a tent, “Then you should ask, Peeta. That’s what Annie does.”

“Ask who?” Peeta says. “Who can I trust?”

“Well, us for starters. We’re your squad.” Jackson says.

“You’re my guards.” He says.

“That, too.” She agrees. “But you saved a lot of lives in Thirteen. It’s not the kind of thing we forget.”

The air settles. Peeta does not speak again for a long while. You finally begin to feel drowsy in front of the heat. You lean into your backpack, eyes closed and basking in the warmth.

“Your favorite color… it’s green?” Peeta asks carefully.

“That’s right.” Katniss says. “And yours is orange.”

“Orange?” He asks.

“Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset.” She says, “At least, that’s what you told me once.”

“Oh.” He says, “Thank you.”

“You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.” Katniss says suddenly, and then she gets up and leaves.

You fall asleep by the fire, waking every hour to stretch your back from the hunched position you’re in. Johanna wakes you around nine, moving the hair out of your face to tell you that she, Gale, Finnick and Katniss are going to go film for a bit and you’re invited to go with them. You agree, brushing your teeth and fixing your hair before following them into the street. 

You and Finnick fill her in from last night. She nods, remarking how it’s a step in the right direction. At least they’re talking to each other.

Back at camp, the squad is sitting in a group together talking to Peeta. There’s no tension, you and Johanna take a seat with them. Finnick criss-crosses his legs, and Katniss and Gale stand nearby. They tell you that they’ve been playing a game with Peeta called ‘Real or Not Real’ where he recalls events and they tell him if it happened or not.

“Most of the people from Twelve were killed in the fire.” Peeta says.

“Real. Less than nine hundred of you made it to Thirteen alive.”

“The fire was my fault.”

“Not real. President Snow destroyed twelve the way he did Thirteen, to send a message to the rebels.”

The game allows Jackson to break you into a completely new watch, where you’re no longer paired with Johanna or Finnick, but with one of the soldiers. Everyone holds their advantages when it comes to talking to Peeta. Gale fills him in on most of the technical stuff about District Twelve. You and Finnick talk about his first Games, since you both mentored that one, and Johanna and Finnick talk about the second since they were both a tribute.

You also help out Katniss with some of the superficial details. He’ll ask about the colors of her dress in certain districts, the jewelry she was wearing, what she said during a speech. All of which you have nailed down, since you’ve always been fascinated about how stylists and escorts change their theme with each new victor. You can’t be much help in regards to her food preferences and who she is back home, so she’s forced to work on that by herself. 

The next afternoon, you’re all told you need to stage a more complicated propo for District Thirteen to edit. They’re unhappy with the quality they’ve been getting lately, and they want something that’ll draw in more attention, as if that’s even possible. A special block is set aside, none of the traps set off to allow some action. It’s a residential block, lined with apartments.

The pods inside are marked as gunfire and nets to capture, so you’re all told to gear up as if you’re heading into actual war. You’re allowed to take your specialty weapons with you. You swing the axe in your hand, wondering how good it would do in battle if you had to. Peeta is given back his gun, but it’s full of blanks so it can’t do any actual damage.

Peeta shrugs, “I'm not much of a shot anyway.”

The camera crew goes over a number of things they’re going to use to make the action sequence more interesting. They’re planning to use smoke bombs and adding gunfire to make it seem like you’re doing something. You joke with Johanna and Finnick that it would be less work for them if they actually did something with you guys instead.

Peeta’s fairly preoccupied with one of the camera crew members. They’re all from the Capitol, so they’ve got funny mannerisms, but he’s got his eye on Pollux. His eyebrows are twitching at one point, and you elbow Finnick to get his attention, hoping he’ll be able to talk to Peeta without a reaction.

Finnick opens his mouth to speak, when Peeta’s harsh voice comes through, “You’re an Avox, aren’t you? I can tell by the way you swallow. There were two Avoxes with me in prison. Darius and Lavinia, but the guards mostly called them the redheads. They’d been our servants in the Training Center, so they arrested them, too. I watched them being tortured to death. She was lucky. They used too much voltage and her heart stopped right off. It took days to finish him off. Being, cutting off parts. They kept asking him questions, but he couldn’t speak, he just made these horrible animal sounds. They didn’t want information, you know? They wanted me to see it.”

There’s a stunned silence as you all stop walking, staring at him. He watches you guys, “Real or not real?” No one answers him, so he snaps, “Real or not real?!”

“Real,” Bogg says, “At least, to the best of my knowledge… real.”

“I thought so.” His shoulders sag, “There was nothing… shiny about it.”

He wanders off, Katniss turns to Gale for comfort. You warily turn to Johanna, “Did they…?”

“No, they never used the tracker jacker venom against me.” She shakes her head, “Just water and electricity.”

“I’m… glad.”

“Me too.” She says.

The rest of the trip is taken in silence, as you stomp through glass from windows and cars. Boggs has you gather around the Holo to see the projection of the street. The gunfire pod is ahead, a little higher up. The net pod is at the end, almost around the next corner. Volunteers are taken to set off the traps, but once again, none of you are picked.

The smoke bombs are thrown, and the camera begins to roll. You carefully go down the street, as Gale sets off the pod. You all break windows to some capacity, but flatten against the ground as soon as the actual pod is set off. The stones are light orange and pink, waving between each other. 

Boggs wants you to head forward, but Cressida, the director of the camera crew, needs a few close-up shots of your reactions. You’re all forced to reenact what you had just done, this time with a flair of dramatics. Mitchell’s acting is so horrible that most of you are left in tears of his idea of desperation. Boggs is shaking his head, but even he’s smiling.

He sets up the Holo to find the best way to trigger the next pod. Just as he takes a step towards you guys, the pastel stone he’s placed his foot on, sinks in the ground, and explodes, taking his legs with it.

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna imagine #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna oneshot #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x you #thg #the hunger games #requested #angst

[ilguna]

☼ deadly pt4 (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you and Johanna join the star squad to invade the Capitol.

warnings; swearing, death mention

wc; 2k

part one, part two, part three.

–

“Do you have anything brighter?” You ask, face twisting at the sight of the flowers, “Or light? I was thinking white, pink, yellow…” 

The clerk’s eye twitches, clearly done with you and your specific request that he’s been working on for the past thirty minutes. There’s not a doubt in your mind that he’s just throwing together shit to get you out of here faster.

“Miss, if you had preordered a bouquet—” He begins, impatience shining through.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes, “Yes, I know. You’d be able to meet my needs because you would’ve been able to order the flowers from a different district, and all that bullshit. I’ve heard it from the six other flower shops I’ve been to in the past week.”

He stares at you, probably deciding if this is worth it or not. He takes in a breath, “So why are you here, if you know that I don’t have what you need?”

“Because it’s urgent.” You tell him.

“Well, let’s hear it, then.” He crosses his arms.

“I don’t have time for that.” You shake your head.

He makes a face, tilting his head, “If your story’s good enough, I’ll pull the flowers from the other preordered bouquet’s, but I doubt you’ll be able to convince me.”

You let out a scoff, “All due respect, do you even know who I am?”

He looks you up and down, “Should I?”

“My name is (Y/n) (L/n), I’m a victor—was. I was a victor of the Hunger Games.” You begin, watching the wrinkles smooth from his face. The smug look is gone, “A few weeks ago it was the tenth anniversary of Johanna’s Games. And today marks ten years since Snow killed her entire family. I need flowers.”

“How many?” He asks, “How big are you thinking?”

“I have four tall and skinny vases, I can’t fit more than a few stems in each of them.” 

He nods, turning around to leave the counter. You can’t help the small smile that crosses over your face. Finally, luck is on your side. You thought that you were going to be fucked. Of course, Johanna wouldn’t have known the difference if you didn’t show up with them, especially since you’ve got a load of other gifts that would take away from it.

You would know. She might not care, but you always have.

In the span of fifteen minutes, he’s able to put a bouquet together for you, helping you pick out the bright flowers, and telling you the meaning behind them. White lilies, pink carnations, white orchids, yellow tulips. He tells you why they’re important for the message you’re sending, but the gist is that they’re to offer support.

You compensate him greatly for the flowers, and the fact that they’re coming from other customers. He tells you to come back anytime you need, and to tell Johanna that he’s sorry for her loss. You wave goodbye, and then start the long journey back to your house in Victor’s Village to gather everything else you’ve bought in the past week.

You’ve had to throw together a gift basket—you can’t even call it that because half of what you’ve gotten wouldn’t even fit in a basket—at the last minute. You weren’t going to do this for her originally, since the two of you are still far from being friends. You might be neighbors, but that doesn’t mean you go out of your way to figure out what’s going on with her.

The details you do get about her are from people who don’t even live in District Seven, like Finnick. The two of them talk frequently enough that he knows way more about her than you do at this point. Which was upsetting at first, because you used to be the first person she would go to if she had something to say, and now you can’t even look her in the eye without feeling guilty.

However, it had been a few months since you last talked to Finnick. He’s dealing with his own kids and Annie, and you’re beginning to pick up more projects in Seven to feel useful. You can’t sit around for the rest of your life, as much as you wish your mind would let you. 

Finnick sent you a letter a week ago, though. It was a couple pages long, and at first, it started with him telling you about what he’s been up to, and how Annie’s doing. He doesn’t bother with the Katniss updates anymore, considering she and Prim regularly keep up with you, as if you’re their own sister.

The more you continued to read, you began to realize that it wasn’t him trying to catch you up to speed with his life. It quickly transitioned into concern about Johanna and what she’s been up to. Apparently, she’s been expressing some concerning thoughts about herself and what she’s been through in the Capitol, knowing full well that Finnick can’t drop everything and save her. Even if he wanted to, he’s got other responsibilities now.

You almost sent back a letter telling him that it wasn’t your problem anymore. The day you broke up with Johanna was probably the best decision to make at that time. You’ll admit that you did regret doing it so harshly without thinking it through, but it took a lot of time to work through the anger that you felt towards her.

If the two of you had stayed together, you’re sure you would’ve ended up miserable.

You didn’t send Finnick the letter. Instead, you did some digging to find out why Johanna might be feeling this way, in the middle of summer, of all seasons. It’s the one time of year that she used to feel so bouncy and energetic during. She likes the heat, and being outside, and the breeze on her face. She’s all about being productive, so for her mood to take a twist like this was concerning for you, too.

When you found out that it was a couple of important anniversaries, you dropped all plans to organize this.

When you finally get back to your house, you have to find every bag of Johanna’s new belongings, pulling all of them onto your arms and carrying them next door. You knock on her front door a few times, waiting for her to answer it. After the fifth time, you realize that she’s not going to let you in.

You purse your lips, unhappy. You should’ve guessed that she wouldn’t answer the door if she’s feeling like this. You know how she feels about people showing up unannounced. Unfortunately, she’s going to have a bigger problem on her hands, because you’re not going home.

You do the irresponsible thing, and check to make sure her door is unlocked. It turns without issue, the door swings open slowly, letting out a creak because of the old hinges. You stand on the porch for another few seconds, staring into the abyss that’s Johanna’s home. You’re not sure how she navigates this place without any lights.

Either way, you step inside, leaving the door open for some light while you walk into her kitchen. Once every bag is on the counter and shows no threat of rolling off, you walk away. While heading to the front door, you open all the blinds, flipping open the locks and pushing up the windows to get some airflow through the house.

It doesn’t smell that bad, luckily, but the air is heavier.

You shut the front door, heading back into the kitchen. Before you can start with what you’ve planned, you go and clean the dishes in her sink, setting it on the drying rack when you’re done. Then, you rinse out the vases, cut the end of the stems of the flowers, fill the vases with water, and place the pre-arranged bouquets in each of the vases.

They smell beautiful.

You place one in front of the window in the kitchen, and place the last three in front of the windows in the living room, and one by the front door’s window sill. Immediately, the room feels lighter because of the color, and the fact that there’s flowers in here. You knew that there would be a difference. 

Back in the kitchen, you pull out all of Johanna’s baking supplies, taking your time cleaning out the pie pan, the rolling pin, the whisk, and every other possible thing you’ll need. With still no sign of her, you go ahead and make the pie, place it in the oven, and clean the dishes.

While you wait for it to bake, you arrange the few baskets that you did buy, into categories. In the first one, you’ve got all of—what used to be—Johanna’s favorite bathroom products, at least when you knew her. Her favorite scented shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and shaving cream. You’ve got a new toothbrush, toothpaste, a set of bathroom rags and soft towels. 

For the second basket, it’s things she’d want in her bedroom, like a whole new comforter set, and a few soft pillows to use. You also neatly fold clothes for the summer, stuffing them into the limited space you have. Shirts, shorts, jeans, tank tops, shoes, hats. 

You move the baskets to the dining room table, which is right in front of the stairs. This is when you decide to move one of the vases onto the table, because it’ll look nicer than in front of the windows. 

The timer goes off for the pie, so you return back to the kitchen to pull it out of the oven to cool. While you wait, you make the lemonade into a pitcher, and bring two glasses to the table, setting them down. Finally, you make the cold-cut sandwiches, placing them neatly onto a tray, alongside some fresh fruit and vegetables that you got today from the market.

And tonight, when it’s time for dinner, you’ll make her the same meal her mom used to make her on her birthdays.

When you come back into the dining room to set the food onto the table, you nearly jump out of your skin at the sight of Johanna standing on the stairs. You don’t look at her until the food is on the table.

Her lips are pressed together, eyebrows drawn in. You think she’s scowling at you at first, because she has all the reason to. You haven’t spoken to her in months, broke into her house, opened her blinds, and made food for yourself and her, and you didn’t even ask ahead of time.

Johanna’s hair has grown out since the last time you saw her. Ever since her time in the Capitol, she’s kept her hair pretty short, not wanting to grow it out any further. Now, it seems that it’s grown to the same length it was before the Quarter Quell. The only thing she’s missing is the dyed streak.

You watch as her bottom lip juts out suddenly, her eyes fluttering. She covers her mouth with her hand, shaking her head. You can see the tears begin to run down her face.

You start walking to her, arms out, “Come here, Johanna.”

She doesn’t argue, coming down the last couple of steps. You wrap your arms around her tightly, letting her sob into your shoulder. You can feel her tears on your skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, placing a hand on the back of her head, “You know I would’ve been there for you.”

“I was scared.” She admits through tears, “I didn’t want you to send me away.”

“I’m here for you, Johanna.” You lean your head against her, “The last thing I want is to lose you, even if we’re not talking.

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna x you #johanna x yn #johanna y/n #thg #the hunger games #angst #requested

[ilguna]

☼ deadly pt3 (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you and Johanna join the star squad to invade the capitol.

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, gun use and mention, gore, blood, classic hunger games stuff. a certain someone doesn't die.

wc; 7k

notes; unhappy ending :D

part one, part two, part four.

–

You wake up a few minutes before Johanna does, pulling away from her with a yawn. As you sit up, you begin to stretch stiff and sore limbs, not quite recovered from yesterday’s activities. Your underclothes are sticking to your skin from the sweat, you vaguely recall the slimy mutts from the sewers in your nightmare.

“Look who’s awake.” Finnick muses, you look at him with an eye roll.

“What time is it?”

“Late afternoon.” Cressida says, she’s got her knees pulled to her chest.

You look around the room to see that practically everyone’s up, with the exception of Johanna. You’re all in varying stages of wounded and tired, but you’re alive. That’s the part that matters to you the most.

Johanna turns over, hand reaching for you. When she’s met with your thigh, her eyebrows draw in. You reach over, going to smooth her hair back, like you usually do in the morning, and fall short when you realize that there is no hair. You settle for gently rubbing your knuckles along her cheek.

She hums, opening her eyes slowly.

“You two are going to make me sick.” Finnick murmurs.

“How do you think we felt at your wedding?” Johanna shoots back, and then fakes a gag. Finnick lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

Once Johanna’s sitting up, arms across her stomach, Katniss says that she needs to tell you all something. And then she proceeds to launch into a speech, telling you that she lied about the mission and put all of you in danger because of her need for revenge. It’s dramatic and she seems genuinely worried that you’ve been clueless.

No one speaks for a couple of minutes, until Gale clears his throat. “Katniss, we all knew you were lying about Coin sending you to assassinate Snow.”

“You knew, maybe. The soldiers from Thirteen didn’t.” She says.

“Do you really think Jackson believed you had orders from Coin?” Cressida asks. “Of course she didn’t. But she trusted Boggs, and he’d clearly wanted you to go on.”

“I never even told Boggs what I planned to do.”

“You told everyone in Command!” Gale says. “It was one of your conditions for being the Mockingjay. ‘I kill Snow’.”

“But not like this.” She says after a minute. “It’s been a complete disaster.”

“I think it would be considered a highly successful mission.” Gale says. “We’ve infiltrated the enemy camp, showing that the Capitol’s defenses can be breached. We’ve managed to get footage of ourselves all over the Capitol’s news. We’ve thrown the whole city into chaos trying to find us.”

“Trust me, Plutarch’s thrilled.” Cressida adds.

“That’s because Plutarch doesn’t care who dies.” Katniss reasons. “Not as long as his Games are a success.”

“Katniss, we still have a bulk of the squad, believe it or not.” Finnick says. “You’ve done amazingly trying to keep us alive.”

“Besides, brainless, the whole goal was to get here, wasn’t it?” Johanna shakes her head, unimpressed.

This goes round and round, with all of you trying to convince her that the mission was a success, regardless of whether or not she thinks so. Peeta’s the only one that doesn’t say anything, watching you continue to chase her thoughts in circles.

“What do you think, Peeta?” Katniss asks him.

“I think… you still have no idea. The effect you can have.” He pushes himself into a sitting position. “None of the people we lost were idiots. They knew what they were doing. They followed you because they believed you really could kill Snow.”

Katniss stares for a second, and then she slowly begins to nod. She reaches to pull a paper from her uniform, and when she smoothes it out, you can see that it’s a paper map. “Where are we, Cressida?”

Cressida points out that you’re only five blocks from the mansion. It’s easy walking distance, and you won’t be slowed down by the pods, unlike in the outer part of the Capitol. Since you already have costumes, you’ll blend in outside with the rest of the citizens.

“What we need is to get him out in the open.” Gale tells Katniss. “Then one of us could pick him off.”

“Does he ever appear in public anymore?” Peeta asks.

“I don’t think so.” Cressida says. “At least in all the recent speeches I’ve seen, he’s been in the mansion. Even before the rebels got here. I imagine he became more vigilant after Finnick aired his crimes.”

Finnick tilts his head.

“I bet he’d come out for me,” Katniss says. “If I were captured. He’d want that as public as possible. He’d want my execution on his front steps.” She pauses. “Then Gale could shoot him from the audience.”

“No.” Peeta shakes his head. “There are too many alternative endings to that plan. Snow might decide to keep you and torture information out of you. Or have you executed publicly without being present. Or kill you inside the mansion and display your body out front.”

“Or we’d never see you again.” Finnick says.

“Gale?” Katniss turns to him.

“It seems like an extreme solution to jump to immediately.” He says. “Maybe if all else fails. Let’s keep thinking.”

You all fall silent for a minute, allowing you to hear Tigris moving upstairs. It’s not long before she slides the panel from the top of the stairs, sticking her head into the basement. “Come up,” She purrs. “I have some food for you.”

Cressida goes up the stairs first. “Did you contact Plutarch, Tigris?”

“No way to.” Tigris shrugs. “He’ll figure out you’re in a safe house. Don’t worry.”

At the top of the stairs, you’re brought to the counter, where you’re hit with a reminder that not everyone in the Capitol eats like you do in the Tribute Parade. There’s stale bread, moldy cheese and a bottle of mustard. Katniss sees this, and tries telling Tigris about the canned supplies that were grabbed.

Tigris waves her hand, “I eat next to nothing. And then, only raw meat.”

Prior to your Games, you probably would’ve eaten all of this without batting your eyes, but it’s different now. As a victor, you’re able to afford the good options, no longer forced to eat what’s given. You choose to stick to bread and the last canned item you have in your backpack, which Finnick does the same. Johanna doesn’t care all that much, scraping the mold off the cheese and making herself a sandwich.

The group of you sit in front of Tigris’ television to watch the latest Capitol news. They’ve managed to narrow down that the eight of you are still alive, and the bounties that are offered just for information are insane, let alone for capture. They try to instill the idea that you’re dangerous, by showing the gun fight with the peacekeepers, and follow with a tribute to the woman Katniss killed.

“Have the rebels made a statement today?” Katniss asks Tigris. She shakes her head. “I doubt Coin knows what to do with me now that I’m still alive.”

Tigris cackles. “No one knows what to do with you, girlie.” She then proceeds to spend time making Katniss a pair of fur leggings to wear while in the basement. Katniss thanks her for it.

You return to the basement after dinner, where you sit around and try to come up with a plan on how you’ll get to the mansion. No one wants to go out in a large group, afraid that’ll draw too much attention. You can’t sit down here and wait for them to come, though.

Everyone begins to settle down, with the exception of you, Finnick and Johanna. You seclude yourself as much as humanly possible, talking about going out into the streets as mini groups. There’s not a single doubt in your guys’ mind that Katniss and Gale are going to want to go up there, it’s just a matter of joining them.

“We let them go first, ten minutes or so ahead of us.” Finnick says, messing with his zipper. He used to play with a string of rope, but he handed that off to Peeta to keep his mind occupied. “And then we head out.”

“And what about the others? Cressida, Pollux and Peeta?” You ask.

“You really think that they’re going to want to step foot out of here? They just lost most of their people, and Peeta’s nowhere near sane enough to get out of here.” Johanna’s face is twisted. “Finnick’s plan is a good one.”

“You think they’ll agree?” Finnick asks.

Johanna halfway shrugs, “We’ll suggest it tomorrow morning. Even if they don’t agree, we’ll end up going anyway.”

“That’s true.” You agree.

Finnick splits to lay down, and Johanna’s still beat from yesterday. You aren’t, though. You sit next to her, arms crossed, leaned against the wall with your eyes closed. 

In the morning, you all return upstairs to see what the Capitol has to say. You tune into Beetee’s broadcast about how they’re making progress against the Capitol. Overnight, they’ve been confiscating abandoned Capitol vehicles and sending them down the streets with no one inside. It doesn’t affect every pod in the way, but it takes out a good number of them, bringing the casualties down.

“This can’t last.” Gale says. “In fact I’m surprised they’ve kept it going so long. The Capitol will adjust by deactivating specific pods and then manually triggering them when their targets come in range.”

And just a few minutes later, this exact prediction comes through. They send a car through with three scouts following, making it safely to the end of the streets. When twenty rebels follow, a row of potted roses in front of a flower shop explodes, killing almost all of them.

“I bet it’s killing Plutarch not to be in the control room on this one.” Peeta says.

Beetee lets go of the reins, allowing the Capitol to return on screen. You’re met with a grim reporter, announcing the blocks that civilians need to evacuate. While this is happening, Katniss marks her map on where the A, B, C lines for the rebels are, and which blocks are being evacuated.

Katniss turns to the front door when she hears noise, going to investigate. She comes back a minute later, telling you that there are refugees heading towards the Capitol’s center. Tigris says that she’ll keep an eye out for the rest of you, and then she ushers you downstairs.

Katniss begins pacing. You share looks with Finnick and Johanna, wondering which one of them is going to suggest going there, too. You won’t do it, they have a way with words and convincing people. You’re just here to make sure that they’re not stupid when they carry it out.

Neither one of them says anything, letting Katniss play out her thoughts. Tigris is gone for hours without an update, which the others begin to theorize about. The possibility of her turning you guys in is at the front of their minds. You know that the peacekeepers would be here by now, if that were the case.

And then, the sound of the door opening and closing can be heard, along with her shuffling feet. She opens the panel, and a few seconds later, the smell of meat wafts through the air. She tells you to come up to eat, and none of you question this.

It’s fried ham and potatoes. They’re got when you bite into them, but even through your sizzling taste buds, it’s delicious. Tigris says that it’s fortunate she’s selling fur because she managed to score big time with the people passing through the area. It’s why she could afford such a large meal.

On the television, it turns out that people are locking their doors and not allowing the refugees to come inside. Peacekeepers are having to go door to door to find homes for the displaced. The Head Peacekeeper on the news reminds everyone how many a single apartment can hold, and everyone’s expected to be good hosts and take in the needy.

He then says that Snow has ordered part of the mansion to be open for refugees tomorrow. You can’t help it when you elbow your two friends, reminding them that this is a present issue. And finally, he says that shopkeepers should be prepared to lend out floor space if asked to.

“Tigris, that could be you.” Peeta says.

The Head Peacekeeper says that all sightings of rebels need to be reported to the authorities, and not for them to take it into their own hands. Apparently a crowd had beat a young man to death for resembling Peeta. As soon as the picture appears on screen, a scoff is coming from Johanna. The Capitol man looks nothing like him.

“Wow, you really let yourself go.” 

Peeta lets out a laugh, “Thanks.”

“People have gone wild.” Cressida murmurs.

They give an update about the rebel progress into the city. “Line C is only four blocks from here.” Katniss says, eyebrows knit together. She then begins to get up. “Let me wash the dishes.”

“I’ll give you a hand.” Gale offers, collecting plates from the rest of you.

“We need to be with the rebels.” Johanna hisses, and then she elbows you. “Go tell them about the plan.”

“Me?” You whine. “Why me?”

“Because you’re easier to talk to.” Finnick agrees. “Just go back there, the worst they can do is bite you.”

You slap the side of Finnick’s arm, begrudgingly getting to your feet. You find Katniss and Gale huddled together next to the sink, whispering. As soon as they hear your shoes against the tile, they straighten and turn.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Gale says, turning back to her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You scowl at him, but don’t stop walking until you’ve joined their circle. “Finnick, Johanna and I want to go out there with you.”

You can see Gale roll his eyes, you resist the urge to shove him. Katniss makes a face, “I’m not sure if we should all go out there again as a huge group.”

“We talked about it last night.” You begin. “In the morning, you’ll leave before us, and then we’ll follow a few minutes later to spread us out. Johanna figures that Cressida, Pollux and Peeta are going to want to stay.”

“It’s too dangerous.” Gale says.

Your eye twitches when you look at him. “I’m sorry, did you forget that we can handle ourselves if shit hits the fan?” You wait for him to say anything back, he doesn’t. “If something happens out there, we’ll be just fine. And it’d be better to have us out there, than them. If you need backup, we’re right there. Cressida and Pollux don’t know the first thing about killing, and Peeta’s a ticking time bomb.”

Katniss sighs, “She’s right.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Gale shakes his head.

“Let’s see what the other three say.” Katniss reasons, and then gives you a nod.

You return back to your little group, raising your eyebrows, “They’ll come out to talk in a minute.”

And they do, starting with trying to convince Peeta to stay behind because he’ll endanger the group the most. He agrees easily, no thoughts about trying to fight them on this one. Until he says that he’ll go out into the streets by himself.

“To do what?” Cressida asks.

“I’m not sure exactly. The one thing that I might still be useful at is causing a diversion. You saw what happened to that man who looked like me.”

“What if you… lose control?” Katniss asks.

“You mean… go mutt? Well, if I feel that coming on, I’ll try to get back here.” He says earnestly.

“And if Snow gets you again?” Gale asks. “You don’t even have a gun.”

“I’ll just have to take my chances. Like the rest of you.” Peeta and Gale stare at each other for a long moment. Then Gale reaches into his pocket and pulls out the nightlock pill, placing it into Peeta’s hand. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry. Beetee showed me how to detonate my explosive arrows by hand. If that fails, I’ve got my knife. And I’ll have Katniss.” He smiles. “She won’t give them the satisfaction of taking me alive.”

Katniss closes Peeta’s fingers around the pill, “Take it, Peeta. No one will be there to help you.”

Suddenly, you’re regretting being the one to suggest going out there in groups. How they think letting Peeta go out alone is a good idea is far beyond you. You share an incredulous look with Finnick, but Johanna’s completely unbothered.

That night, sleeping is miserable. Everyone’s having nightmares, and with your lack of sleep from the night before, you’re extra exhausted in the morning. You all gather to eat a mixed breakfast of whatever’s left of the remaining food. Peaches, crackers, snails. 

The next hour, Tigris launches into remaking all eight of you, and she clearly enjoys every second of it. You’re told that Cressida and Pollux plan on leaving the shop as well, and you can’t help it when you roll your eyes. From head to toe, you’re fixed. The wig, makeup, undergarments, clothes, uniforms and then the jackets, to the boots that are covered by fur. She uses drapes to conceal weapons and handbags and useless shit to carry to blend in. 

“Never underestimate the power of a brilliant stylist.” Peeta says, Tigris flashes him a smile.

The eight of you look exactly like the refugees outside. The plan follows what Finnick and Johanna had come up with. Cressida and Pollux will leave first as guides, then Katniss and Gale, then you, Johanna and Finnick, and Peeta will be the very last, trailing in case he needs to cause a distraction.

Tigris waits for the perfect moment to send the first two out. Cressida bids her goodbye, and you wait anxiously for your guys’ turn. Katniss unlocks Peeta’s cuffs, he rubs at his wrists. 

“Listen,” She says. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

“No. It’s last-resort stuff. Completely.” He says.

She then brings him into a hug, “All right, then.”

“It’s time.” Tigris says, Katniss and Gale disappear out the door.

You grab Johanna’s hand tightly. Johanna will loop her arm with Finnick’s when you step outside, allowing you to keep together as much as possible. Out of the three of you, Finnick’s the most likely to get recognized out there. If he gets yanked, they’ll be forced to take you two with him.

You let out a shaky breath. Tigris tells you to go, and you step out of the warm shop, and into the icy streets. The snowflakes are large, hindering your sight. Finnick joins your front, and together, the three of you ease into the crowd, blending in without an issue. Ahead, you can see Katniss and Gale, knowing it’s them because of their coats.

A little way down the road, they split from the alley into the main avenue. You follow suit, being careful to keep an eye out for the other two. You need to keep your heads down and harder to see. From what you can tell, most of the shops out here are full of refugees already, meaning Tigris will have new guests soon.

Along the new road, Katniss turns around to see if she can find you guys. Judging by her expression, she misses you entirely, and turns back around to talk to Gale. Your hands tightens around Johanna’s.

“I—”

A piercing pain goes through your body, sending you flying to the ground. You lean over the cement, taking quick and shallow gasps as you reach to touch the burning pain. Johanna and Finnick get down too, noticing that you’re not the only one that’s been hit by the spray of bullets.

“We need to hide—” Finnick begins to say.

Your trembling fingers make contact with the bullet wound, and when you pull your hand away, you can see the wet blood coating your fingers.

“Where’d it even come from?” Johanna snarls, grabbing at you.

When she jerks you, another sharp pain hits your abdomen. You let out a gasp, trying to get your feet to work to find cover. Finnick’s leading the way to the shops, where the shutters are drawn tight, but displays outside offer a hiding place.

Another spray of bullets sweep the street, and you’re hit a second time, taking you down this time. Johanna tries pulling you, begging you to get moving, because she won’t leave you there. Finnick comes out of his hiding area long enough to pick you up into his arms.

You squirm, letting out a cry of pain from the jostling.

“They’re on the roofs.” Finnick tells you two. “The rebels are here.”

In the side alley, he sets you down on the pavement, opening your coat and peeling up your shirt to see where the second bullet is. It’s close to the first, on the same side. He seems relieved by this.

“Can you move?”

“I’ll need help.”

“We need to go, now!” Johanna shouts, “The streets are lined with pods, and they’re activating them!”

They pull you to their feet, and together work to keep you upright. You head down the street, actively keeping an eye out for your friends, but ultimately coming up with nothing in the midst of the chaos. The rebels are shooting at almost everything, but mainly the peacekeepers and any citizen that dares to attack.

The pods are deadly, at this point. Several different types of mutts are released that lunge at anything that moves. You make it past dead bodies that are colored pink, and reek of death and sugar.

Another spray of bullets has Johanna and Finnick twisting you away and into a stairwell to avoid getting you hit a third time. When you run through the next block, there’s liquefied bodies all over the yellow and blue tiles. The blood is sleek, and Johanna nearly loses her footing twice.

You pass another intersection, turning to try and find an easier way to go besides heading straight into the rebels, and find an entire section of the street missing. However, on the other side, you see Katniss, standing there conflicted for a second, before turning and heading further.

“Straight!” You tell them.

“The rebels—we should backtrack.” Johanna tries.

“We can’t carry you through there without getting killed.”

“Then let go of me.” You pull free, hunching over from the pain that overcomes your body from the weight. You grit your teeth, tears in your eyes. You make Finnick lead the way through, pushing Johanna ahead so that you can keep an eye on her.

Somehow, you manage to make it through this block without getting attacked, but you have to stay split with the amount of fighting that’s happening. It hurts to jerk out of the way, but you have no choice if you want to live. You take the next intersection and backtrack to try and find Katniss in her red coat, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

You make it to City Circle, where you force them to slow down long enough for you to take a break. You can’t help the tears that slide down your cheeks. Johanna reaches over to wipe them, telling you that it’s not much further now.

“And then what? Look, Johanna, no one’s going inside the mansion!”

They both turn, knowing you’re right. Finnick opens his mouth to speak, right as a hovercraft marked with the Capitol’s seal flies over a barricade. You three start forward, curiosity at the front of your minds as tiny silver parachutes teeter from side to side, coming down to the center of the blocked off area.

You can see children, from toddlers to teenagers, raise their hands in the air to grab at the gifts. You shake your head, a slice of pain goes through your side suddenly, and you grab Johanna’s shoulder to keep upright.

A couple seconds later, as they’re beginning to open them, half of the parachutes explode. Johanna catches you when your knees buckle from the blast, body trembling from the pain.

“We need to get out of here.” Johanna says, Finnick points out the rebels that’re coming through the right side of the circle.

At this moment, a certain hood falls back, allowing you to see the bright red interior. As your finger juts out, pointing at Katniss, the other half of the bombs detonate. It sends a tremor through the ground, and this time, the fire bites back at people in the crowd.

Johanna takes you to the ground to protect you, but you’re fighting against her, eyes on the girl ahead of you, the fire that’s currently eating away at her coat. She’ll die if she doesn’t get help. She’ll end up horribly scarred, past what they got from the last time they were in the arena.

“Finnick!” Your voice is shrill. The flames are tall, black smoke emitting from the coat. “My god, move!” You scream.

You finally get Johanna off of you, shoving her away when she tries to make a grab at you. You don’t know how, or why you’re suddenly able to move this much, especially because of the wounds you have, but you’ve crossed half of the circle in the matter of seconds.

You fall to your knees hard, a move that you’ll surely regret in the future, but what’s worse is the pain that stings at your hands as you plunge your hands into the ball of fire that is Katniss Everdeen. You manage to get the coat off of her, but the flames are still licking at her unconscious body.

You yank off your own coat, slamming it down on Katniss and then using it as if it’s a towel to pat the flames off. When you pull away to check on her, you find that her clothes are charcoal, and her skin is covered in burn marks. Nasty and painful, but manageable compared to the nightmare it could’ve been.

As you fall back, pain sprouting and bouncing back harder, you hear a weak voice calling from behind the barricade. She’s not the only one, there are dozens of moaning children in agony. There’s chunks of flesh and parts of limbs on this side, giving you a good idea of what the other side might look like.

However, she catches your attention, because she’s repeating Katniss’ name.

You struggle to your feet, falling down only once before you’re up again. The crowd around you is pushing, shoving, packing tighter as they try to move forward, toward the mansion. You can hear more gunfire, the ground shaking from detonations in other parts of the city. Over the shouting that ensues, you can faintly hear your name called by Johanna and Finnick.

You make it to the cement barricade, pressed flat against it by the people pressing forward. On the other side, you’re met with a terrible sight. The bile rises in your throat from the stench of blood alone, and you want to turn away and head back to the people that are looking for you. You force yourself to keep looking, and stop when you see a vaguely familiar face.

She’s dressed in the District Thirteen medic outfit, she’s got blonde hair that’s braided and covered in debris and blood that could very well belong to her. She’s ablaze, the same way Katniss was. Except, this girl, who couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen, is severely injured.

When she sees your face, relief comes over her, and you know why you recognize her. She’s Katniss’ sister. She was there in the hospital when Johanna and them came back from the Capitol. You heard that she’s medically talented, and she takes after their mother.

“Help.” She mouths.

You turn to shove a few people away from you. In turn, a group of them fight back, aggravated that you’d dare to shove them. They get you over the barricade, you slam into the bloody asphalt, gritting your teeth with watery eyes. You struggle to breathe, trying to regulate the pain, when her wheezed breaths remind you why you're here.

You crawl to her, and struggle to keep the tears at bay, wondering if this is how Snow treated your sister before he cruelly killed her. She lets out a cry when you reach to check out her injuries, gripping your wrist. Her lips are full of pleas for you not to work any further. Just from looking at her, you know she’s got shrapnel embedded in her skin, she’s missing a few fingers, she’s got a head wound, and the bomb took a chunk of her calf.

“You stay with me, you hear me?” You tell her. “You’re not allowed to die.”

You begin to try and stint the blood gushing from her leg. And you’re halfway through the process before the rebels really burst through the crowd. You try to cover Prim’s body with yours the best you can, afraid of the bullets that follow, but instead you find help. More medics, this time carrying heavier supplies. You jerk up, hand in the air.

“Here, come here!” You scream, “I’ve got Primrose Everdeen!”

—

The next few weeks are full of hell as Panem tries to bring itself back together. Snow is captured, Coin takes power, Finnick travels back to Thirteen to see Annie, you’re forced to suffer in rehabilitation. Johanna’s next to you every step of the way—literally. Katniss goes through beautification surgeries to restore her skin to the best of their capabilities. She’s alive. And so is her sister, who repeatedly goes through the prosthetic process. Cressida and Pollux are in different districts covering the war. Gale’s in District Two to mop up the remaining peacekeepers. Peeta’s in the burn unit, also a victim of the bombing.

You struggle to sleep at night, as the nightmares paralyze you and refuse to let you move for several minutes after waking. Johanna has to coax you out of the fire that you find yourself in. The pain in your abdomen never goes away, even with the dosages of morphling they’re giving you.

You see Katniss only once in this time, and it’s brief and supervised. She stares at you for a long minute, you’re sure she’s really lost it at this point. Especially since you’ve been informed that she hasn’t spoken since the Capitol was seized. However, she crossed the hall to bring you into a hug, which is strange coming from her, but you know why. She speaks no words, and leaves suddenly after.

You let out a breath, standing from the chair in the corner of the room. You’ve never stayed at the president’s mansion before, and you’re starting to hate it. There’s nothing to do here besides sit. And you’ve been doing that day in and day out for the past two and a half weeks.

“What are you doing?” Johanna asks from the bathroom, “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I need to get the fuck out of here.” You murmur, “I’m going crazy in here. Why are we here still? Why can’t we go home?”

“Because you’re hurt.” She says, as if you don’t know.

“Gale was hurt, he had the exact same wounds as I do, and he’s in District Two. I want to go home, Johanna!”

“If we go home now, then we miss Finnick and Annie.”

“Fortunately, we have the rest of our lives to see them.” You tell her.

You can hear Johanna’s sigh, “Listen—!”

There’s rapid knocks at the door, cutting her off. You don’t have time to answer, because the door is being swung open. Katniss rushes inside, the door slamming against the frame. She’s got wide eyes, breathing heavily.

Your irritation fades, concern taking over, “What is it?”

“Snow.” She says without hesitation.

“Who is it?” Johanna asks, coming out of the bathroom.

“What about him?” You ball one of your hands into a fist to distract from the pain. You have to sit back down, as much as you hate it. The cushion accepts you.

“He told me something.” Her lips are trembling. Johanna comes out of the bathroom. “He said it wasn’t him. Coin did it.”

You’re shaking your head, “Did what?”

“The parachutes.” She breathes, tears in her eyes. “Beetee and Gale…”

Johanna catches on quicker, “It was their idea, wasn’t it?”

Katniss is nodding her head, sliding down the door and to the carpet. She’s frowning, letting out a sob. Johanna goes over, reaching to comfort her.

“To release the parachutes into the medics and kids?” You ask, gritting your teeth, “They went after innocents on purpose?”

“Yes!” She cries, “Snow was about to surrender. They killed them to make Snow look bad.”

You can’t help the look you share with Johanna, both on the same murderous train of thought. Coin will pay for this.

The next day, you’re given nice clothes and ordered to look presentable. You spend half the time pulling yourself together for the fight you’re about to cause. If Katniss is right—which you have a feeling she is, since Snow has never lied to you before—then that means you’re going to be competing with Johanna to see who can get their hands around Coin’s neck before the other.

You don’t want her in power. If she doesn’t accept that, then you’ll kill her if you have to. You will not go through this again. You’ve just gotten rid of Snow. You’re not going to be stuck in a loop.

When you get to the meeting room, you’re met with a variety of victor faces, including Finnick and Annie, and even Enobaria. You and Johanna take a seat at the table, and Haymitch tells you that this meeting can’t be any form of good. If Coin is gathering the last of the remaining victors, that could only mean something horrible.

The last person to come into the room is Katniss, who’s dressed to kill in her Mockinjay outfit. “What’s this?”

“We’re not sure.” Haymitch says. “It appears to be a gathering of the remaining victors.”

“We’re all that’s left?” Katniss asks.

“The price of celebrity,” Beetee says. “We were targeted by both sides. The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol.”

Johanna glares at Enobaria. “So what’s she doing here?”

“She is protected under what we call the Mockingjay Deal.” Coin cuts through the tense air, but she only makes it worse. You send a look to Johanna, whose jaw is displaced. “Wherein Katniss Everdeen agreed to support the rebels in exchange for captured victors’ immunity. Katniss has upheld her side of the bargain, and so shall we.”

Enobaria smiles at Johanna. You can feel the hostility that suddenly radiates off of your girlfriend. “Don’t look so smug.” Johanna snaps. “We’ll kill you anyway.”

“Sit down, please, Katniss.” Coin says, ignoring Johanna’s comment. 

You tilt your head at Enobaria with a mean smile. “Aren’t you going to bare your teeth, kitty cat?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but she’s cut off by Coin. “I’ve asked you here to settle a debate. Today we will execute Snow. In the previous weeks, hundreds of his accomplices in the oppression of Panem have been tried and now await their own deaths. However, the suffering in the districts have been so extreme that these measures appear insufficient to the victims. In fact, many are calling for a complete annihilation of those who held Capitol citizenship. However, in the interest of maintaining a sustainable population, we cannot afford this.”

You dig your fingernails into your palms.

“So, an alternative has been placed on the table. Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority of five will approve the plan. No one may abstain from the vote.” She says, a sickness grows in your stomach. “What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power.”

Silence sweeps the table. All eyes are suddenly on her.

“What?” Johanna asks.

“We hold another Hunger Games using the Capitol children.” Coin says.

“Are you joking?” Peeta asks.

“No. I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security.” Coin explains. 

There’s a sudden, violent urge that hits you. It takes all your power to stay planted in your seat. She just killed a pen full of children a couple of weeks ago, and now they want to kill more?

“Was this Plutarch’s idea?” Haymitch asks.

“It was mine.” Coin says with an air of superiority. “It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes.”

“No!” Peeta bursts. “I vote no, of course! We can’t have another Hunger Games!”

“Why not?” Johanna says, your head whips in her direction so hard that you’re sure you have whiplash. “It seems fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes.”

“Johanna!” You shout, shaking your head, “What—?”

“So do I.” Enobaria agrees. “Let them have a taste of their own medicine.”

“This is why we rebelled! Remember?” Peeta looks around the table. “Annie? Finnick?”

“I vote no with Peeta.” Annie says calmly.

“I do too.” Finnick’s face is twisted with disgust. “Why would you put them through that?”

“No.” Beete says. “It would set a bad precedent. We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No.”

“We’re down to Katniss, Haymitch and (Y/n).”

Eyes are split between you three. You stare at Coin, wondering if now would be a good time to strangle her to death. You’re sure that no one would stop you, but you wouldn’t leave the room alive.

“I vote yes…” Katniss trails, eyes on the table. “For Prim’s sake.”

Haymitch pauses for a moment, watching Katniss. He then turns his attention to Coin. “I’m with the Mockingjay.”

Peeta’s suddenly furious, screaming at Haymitch, but there’s too many eyes on you now. You’re watching Katniss, who has this blank look on her face. You know better, you know that she wouldn’t do this for her sister’s sake. The sister she volunteered for.

“(Y/n), it’s up to you.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Peeta pleads. “You know better than anyone that this is going to ruin more lives than it saves.” 

Your hands are shaking, you have to place them palm-down on the table to get them to be still. You want to throw up. “I um—I vote yes.”

The words don’t feel like they belong to you. There’s a few stunned looks from around the table, but judging how Haymitch relaxes, you know you’ve chosen the right one. Peeta slams his hand against the table, pushing off and away. As if he’s disgusted by the thought of even being seated with you all.

“Excellent. That carries the vote.” Coin says. “Now we really must take our places for execution.”

Katniss nudges a vase with a white rose toward Coin. “Can you see that Snow’s wearing this? Just over his heart?”

Coin smiles. “Of course. And I’ll make sure he knows about the Games.”

“Thank you.”

You all leave the room, and the wave of nausea that hits you is so overwhelming that you sink to the mansion floor, hunched over. Johanna tries to touch you, and you swat her hand away.

“You meant it.”

“(Y/n).”

“After all the people we saw killed.”

“(Y/n).”

“After all those children they murdered.”

“Listen.”

“You saw the bodies, Johanna.” 

“It’s—” She leans forward to touch you.

“Get away!” You swing at her, she jumps out of your way. You let out a sob, “I need—we need time apart.”

“Fine.” She spits, leaving you there.

You press your forehead against the tile as her footsteps fade away. You stay there for a long few minutes, trying to pull yourself together. You need to be outside, standing with the rest of the victors. You’re supposed to witness Snow’s execution. And instead you’re here, with the image of hundreds of children disfigured and dead in your mind.

You only voted yes because there’s an ulterior motive. Johanna voted yes because she wants blood. There is a difference between you. You would never do this—you’re better than this. You’re here to save lives, not take them away.

There’s a pair of footsteps approaching, that stop right in front of you. You don’t raise your head.

“(Y/n), we have to go.” It’s Peeta. “You’re going to make us late.”

You sit up on your knees to see that he’s with Finnick. There’s not an ounce of judgement on his face. “Is there something else going on with Katniss?”

“Yes.” You breathe, allowing him to help you to your feet. “She found something out… and still Johanna voted yes.”

“Maybe she didn’t mean it like that.” He tries to reason.

“You don’t know her like I do.” You tell him. “You think you do, but you don’t.”

The three of you leave the mansion, and head out into the City Circle, which is no longer stained red from the blood spilled before the surrender. You’re brought to the other group of victors, standing on the opposite side of Johanna, arms wrapped around yourself as a hug. Annie leans into Finnick.

Snow’s secured on a post, ten yards away. Katniss reaches back and takes the bow, positioning it on her bow. Snow coughs, red dribbles down his lips and to his chin. The poison story was true, it seems. He stares at the group of you, but more importantly, Katniss.

Katniss suddenly changes the projection of the arrow, letting go of the string. The arrow pierces through Coin’s heart, where she collapses over the side of the balcony, plunging towards the ground. Dead.

You were right to trust Katniss.

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