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Insp.
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A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist.

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thornsandwolves:

All I was doing was trying to keep Peeta and myself alive. Any act of rebellion was purely coincidental.

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 I am pleased to present the victors of District 12, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! 

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fourfinick:

Calling all Angels.

If you could, do you think you would trade it all? All the pain and suffering. But then you would’ve missed the beauty of the light upon this and the sweetness of the leaving.

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missprongs:

     Finally there’s a lull and he gets out, “So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you’d like to say?”
     My voice trembles as I speak. “Only that I’m so sorry you won’t get to be at my wedding… but I’m glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn’t it just… the most beautiful thing?” I don’t have to look at Cinna for a signal. I know this is the right time. I begin to twirl slowly, raising the sleeves of my heavy gown above my head.
     When I hear the screams of the crowd, I think it’s because I must look stunning. Then I notice something is rising up around me. Smoke. From fire. Not the flickery stuff I wore last year in the chariot, but something much more real that devours my dress. I begin to panic as the smoke thickens. Charred bits of black silk swirl into the air, and pearls clatter to the stage. Somehow I’m afraid to stop because my flesh doesn’t seem to be burning and I know Cinna must be behind whatever is happening. So I keep spinning and spinning. For a split second I’m gasping, completely engulfed in the strange flames. Then all at once, the fire is gone. I slowly come to a stop, wondering if I’m naked and why Cinna has arranged to burn away my wedding dress.
     But I’m not naked. I’m in a dress of the exact design of my wedding dress, only it’s the color of coal and made of tiny feathers. Wonderingly, I lift my long, flowing sleeves into the air, and that’s when I see myself on the television screen. Clothed in black except for the white patches on my sleeves. Or should I say my wings.
     Because Cinna has turned me into a mockingjay.

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