Troy Wagner Is My Fav Person On The Internet Atm, Hes Just A Goober

Troy Wagner is my fav person on the internet atm, he’s just a goober😭

I screen printed my own Marble Hornets merch (I'm Alex's biggest fan and defender)

Realest thing I’ve seen since I joined tumblr tbh

What if I cried

Angstmas 2023: Day 21/25

21 - "who are you" Finnick x Reader

Angstmas 2023

You didn’t want any of this, you thought to yourself as you paced the gray hallway outside of his room. 

It was hard to believe that the quarter quell had only been announced weeks ago. And now you were in District thirteen, waiting to see if Finnick would survive. 

You were alone in your house when the 75th Quarter Quell had been announced, you had collapsed back onto your couch. That’s where Finnick had found you a few hours later. He had sat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, crushing you into his chest. 

“I can’t go back in there,” you whispered when you both were cloaked in darkness. The sun completely set and neither of you wanted to move from your positions to turn on the lights. “None of us can go back in there. How can they expect us to willingly do this?” 

Finnick lets out a long sigh, as if debating something inside himself. “There could be another way,” he says. 

You pull away from him, the moon casting enough light to allow you to make out his features. He was staring straight ahead. “What do you mean? We just don’t participate? They’ll force our hand, it's one district against them all.” 

Finnick shakes his head and looks down at you. “It’s not just one district,” he says, his eyes light up with something you hadn’t seen in him for a while, hope. “Want to have a picnic on the rocks tomorrow?” 

You blink up at him. He wanted to go somewhere that he knew no one would overhear them. The waves were too loud by the rocks, if there were any cameras they wouldn’t be able to pick up what he was telling you. You nod, “I would love too,” you say, before resting your head back on his chest. 

He had told you the plan that had been presented to him the last time he was in the Capital. How Plutarch, the new gamemaker, had told him this was in the works. How they were going to get them out of the arena, how they wanted this to be the last game. 

You hadn’t been reaped, but you were brought to the capital as a mentor anyways. Finnick hadn’t brought up the plan again, you didn’t know if it was because you could no longer help or if it was because there no longer was a plan. 

But as you watched that night, watched him go after Katniss, watched her tie the wire around her arrow before letting it go and the screens going black. Haymitch had grabbed your wrist, pulling you from the scene as you screamed Finnicks name. He was right by the tree, was he hit by the explosion, was he alive? 

Haymitch ignored all the questions you had thrown at him, practically shoving you into a hovercraft. “Save him, Haymitch,” you had yelled as the door began to slide shut between you two. 

He had blinked at you and given you a small smile. “That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he said before the door shut and you had begun to move away from Haymitch. 

 You had been taken to district thirteen, told to change into something gray and unflattering, and given a schedule that you weren’t sure how you were supposed to complete when your mind was on Finnick. Was he alive?

Haymitch had seek you out on day three and told you to follow him. He took you to the hospital wing where Finnick was strapped down in a bed with various tubes going into him. He bruised but nothing looked broken. You rushed to his side. “He’s alive,” you breath, you hadn’t realized how heavy the weight of not knowing had been. 

“We won’t know the extent of his injuries until he wakes up. He was blasted pretty good,” Haymitch had explained. 

You stayed beside him for a week. Sleeping on the chair beside him. Haymitch would bring you food and occasionally some of the nurses. You had been holding his hand, telling him about how bland the food was, when it twitched. His fingers grasping yours. 

You had yelled for a nurse, a doctor, anyone to come in. 

That’s how you ended up in the hallway, pacing back and forth as you waited for someone to come out and tell you if he was okay. You paced until you couldn’t feel your feet anymore and then you slid down the wall and sat across from his door, waiting. 

Hours had passed before someone finally emerged from the room. A nurse smiles at you, “He’s awake and responsive. I am going to grab him something to eat but you can sit with him until I get back. Try not to get him worked up” 

You nod, immediately standing and pushing into the room. Finnick turns and gives you a lopsided grin, “That was quick,” he says. 

You move towards him, sitting on the edge of his bed and grasping his hand. “I was so worried Finnick, I swear, I would have burned the capital down myself if you didn’t wake up,” you say quickly. 

He pulls his hand away from you. “Uh-,” he frowns as he squints at you. “Who are you?”

Your stomach drops as you look down at where he had dropped your hand. It felt empty without his fingers entangled with yours. “Finn, it’s me,” you say, looking back up at him. You say your name, hoping to see some recognition, but there’s nothing. 

“I am normally always up for lovely people throwing themselves at me, but I am not sure my nurse would be thrilled with the competition,” he says, scooting away from you. You stand up. “She’s the one bringing me food that;s not in a tube, so I wanna stay on her goodside.” 

He winks, and you step back. This wasn’t the Finnick you grew up with but the Finnick the Capital had created. He didn’t know who you were, he was putting on a show for you. “Of course,” you say, cursing yourself for the emotion in your voice. 

His smile slips as he says, “I am supposed to know you. Were-,” he shakes his head, as if he's trying to pull out a memory from somewhere. He curls his fingers into fists. “Were we friends? More than friends? You said-,” 

“No,” you say quickly. The nurse had told you not to get him worked up. He needed to rest. “No, we don’t know each other. I am just-,” you swallow and try to give him a swallow. “I am just a big fan.” 

His features soften and the distress leaves his face. “Oh, okay,” he says, “Maybe we can talk when I am not-,” he gestures around him, “predisposed.” 

You nod, turning around and blindly reaching for the doorknob before exiting the room. Haymitch stands out in the hall, and you shake your head. He opens his arms for you and you fall into them. “He doesn’t remember me,” you sob. “I don’t think he ever will.”

I am cringe but I am free here’s my Hazbin Hotel oc 🤭 (I’ve her name since making the silly tweet her is Omyra Monroe now😭)

What are you autistic?