#thg oc

[kald-dal-art]

Second compilation post of my latest victor art. These are a lot fun to draw and think out so appreciate all the feedback I have gotten for this series. We'll see if I end up making all 75 Victors or not ksdjhfa

Part 1 / Ko-Fi

#the hunger games #thg #thg victors #thg fanart #thg fic #finnick odair #annie cresta #mags flanagan #enobaria thg #wiress thg #enobaria #wiress #thg oc #victors #district 2 #district 3 #district 4 #district 5 #district 7 #district 10 #artists on tumblr #fan art #digital art #procreate #thg fanfiction

[redwinetalks]

I Won’t Let You Sink

Chapter 1

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Finnick x Fem!OC

Warnings: angst, thoughts of some self harm, miss girl has to sell her body

Summary: Silk Fabelle is the winner of the 68th annual Hunger Games and she’s finishing up her victory tour. She meets Finnick then returns home leading to a lil chit chat with Snow.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

The Capitol was the complete opposite of District 8. Full of bright colors and energy instead of dull and lifeless. Everything is perfectly placed and decorated. Artistically groomed trees and bushes. The Capitol elite expect me to think of this as a blessing. How much of an honor it is to get to visit. To be invited to these lavish parties and be dressed to the nines. But with each conversation I’m dragged into, I’m counting the seconds until I can go home and no longer be stuck with the people who use my trauma as a way to get off.

“Did you hear me?” I’m snapped back to reality by the woman who’s been speaking to me about my victory. Her blue and purple hair is tied up in an intricate bun. Her eyeshadow goes all the way to her temples and her eyebrows are adorned with jewels. To match her eccentric look, she’s wearing a bright purple gown that cinches her waist so much I wonder how she’s even breathing.

“Yes, sorry. I couldn’t help getting distracted by how beautiful everything looks tonight.”

“Oh, of course! I can’t even imagine having to live in that dreary district of yours. This must be such a culture shock. But, back to what I was saying. Your games! You really surprised us all. I mean, no one guessed that the little girl from 8 could win. A lot of people lost their bets after your victory. Don’t worry though, no one could stay upset about it. Not with how precious you are! You really are a doll just like they say!” A doll. That’s the pet name they’ve adorned me with. The Capitol’s doll they could dress up and play with however they so please.

“You’re going to be quite popular! But I must leave you, I need to get a little drink.” She gives me a wink and walks away. Im sure she’s off to purge and then continue to gorge herself.

When she’s gone I close my eyes and let out the deep sigh I’ve been holding. With each Capitol aristocrat I talk to I feel more and more suffocated. I grab a glass of wine and then move myself away from the crowd. This party is supposed to be dedicated to me to congratulate my huge “victory”. No one expected me to win. District 8 has a pretty poor relationship with the Capitol because of our rebelliousness. This kept me from getting any help from sponsors. It also didn’t help that I don’t look very strong, I’m shorter than most people my age, and the jobs back home don’t prepare us in the slightest for what’s to come in the arena. That’s not all true, though. I gained enough strength by carrying large amounts of supplies to and from the factories. Boxes full of fabric or Peacekeeper uniforms are much heavier than people think. I used my knowledge of different bugs and berries, used to make dyes, to help me keep from poisoning myself in the arena. My mentor Cecilia told me since I know how to sew, stitch, and weave that I have a good eye and a steady hand. She taught me how to make traps that I could use against other tributes or to catch food. She helped me learn how to use throwing knives, her weapon of choice. That proved to be significantly helpful during the bloodbath. The majority of my games I spent hiding. My arena was a rainforest so it wasn’t difficult to disguise myself. I was then able to trick some tributes with poisonous berries or trapping them in a net made up of vines and leaves. I’m sure it was a riveting show for everyone glued to the broadcast. Not at all traumatizing for them, only for the 17 year old.

“Not enjoying the festivities?” I’m slightly startled when he comes up and stands next to me. Finnick O’dair. The so called Capitol “darling” and youngest to ever win the games. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Didn’t meant to catch you off guard.” He laughs.

“And what if I’m not?” I sip my wine and look at him, deadpanned.

“Don’t worry, it only gets worse from here.” He lets out a another light laugh and I hum in response.

“Thanks for the warning. I figured as much.” I think about walking away, but there’s something about him that compels me to stay put. It’s disarming. I don’t figure a Career would be too enjoyable to hang around, yet he has this air to him that I can’t walk away from. Maybe it’s how his tan skin and perfect smile are even more breathtaking in person. I could just be getting hypnotized by his beauty and charm. Which, I’m positive he uses to his advantage. He then turns to face directly in front of me and holds his hand out.

“If you’ll let me, I was hoping I could steal you away for a dance.” He takes my hand and gives it a small peck as I just look at him. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you trying to charm me, Finnick O’dair?” He flashes me a perfect smile.

“And what if I am, Silk Fabelle?” He moves his face closer to mine and his voice, as smooth as velvet, is just a whisper. He smells like salty seawater and citrus. The hair on my neck stands up and I can feel the goosebumps creeping up my body. Maybe I am being hypnotized.

“I suppose you can. Hopefully it’ll keep everyone else from talking to me about my riveting games.” I say after clearing my throat and awkwardly adjusting my stance.

“You sure you’re not trying to keep me all to yourself, darling?” I stop and blankly stare at him. He rolls his eyes at me, “I’m kidding. Shall we?” I slowly nod and he escorts me back through the crowd of people.

“So is there a particular reason you decided to make my acquaintance?” I question him. No other previous victors have come to talk with me, at least not yet. It’s just been one vulture after the next. Maybe in his eyes he just saw a damsel in distress that he needed to rescue. He wouldn’t be incorrect per se.

“Maybe I just wanted to finally see your beauty in person. The broadcast is one thing, but there’s nothing like the real deal.” He says when we find a spot on the floor. He takes my waist and gracefully starts to guide me. It’s as if it’s second nature to him. I don’t know how to feel about his flirtations and it makes me a bit uneasy. I don’t know if I can trust him, but I’m not in the games anymore. He’s not another tribute trying to kill me before I kill him first. It sounds like he means what he says, so maybe I’m just overthinking it.

“You sure are quite the charmer, but I’m having a hard time believing that’s the only reason.”

“Oh please, I can’t just dance with a pretty girl? Must I have a motive?” I can feel his thumb rubbing my back. That plus the dancing is making me dizzy. My head feels like it’s spinning, but it could just be the wine causing that effect.

“Do you?” I press him, trying to remain focused, and he looks at me so softly.

“I just thought you might’ve been struggling to stay afloat. This place..these people..they’ll drown you. To them we aren’t real people we’re just toys. Entertainment. I remember how I felt when this was my party and I guess I just didn’t want you to have to go through that alone.” The playful banter has dropped and he speaks so genuinely. He’s not at all what I expected. I’ve only ever looked at careers with aversion. The way they suck up to the Capitol and get almost doted on in return. But they’re still district citizens. Even if they are on better terms with the Capitol, it doesn’t mean they aren’t part of this continuous punishment. They’re pawns in this game like everyone else, they just play differently.

“So you’re telling me no one whisked you away to save you at your victory party” I tilt my head when asking.

“Afraid not, sweetheart.” Even with his flirtatious banter back on I can see that there’s a sadness in his eyes. Like this confidence that he radiates is just an illusion to keep him from sinking. After winning the games they make you think you finally get to be free. You can finally be happy and you don’t have to live in fear. But the games never end. I can see it from the way Finnick looks at me. After you win the torment just continues. There is no freedom.

“I’m sorry you were alone. I appreciate, though, you being here for me even though you don’t know me. I hope..maybe..I can do the same for you.” I say that last sentence quietly. As if I’m not sure if I want him to hear it. I’m not quite sure if I mean it. He squeezes my hand a bit and softly smiles. His dimples showing only slightly.

“I can already see my days getting brighter.” He releases my waist once the song ends and brushes a hand through his golden blonde hair. The lights reflecting off of him in the most picture perfect way. “Unfortunately, I have to go, but it was lovely meeting you Silk.” He kisses my hand once more and walks away after I say goodbye. I’m left feeling frozen in place like a trance has just been lifted. Then, almost immediately I’m being pulled into another meaningless conversation with Capitol citizens. I try to stay present to what’s going on around me, but my mind keeps going back to Finnick O’dair.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

I’m on the train with Cecilia, finally going home after the victory tour. I’ve been sitting at the table moving my fork around my breakfast, too distracted to eat. I haven’t been able to push Finnick out of my mind. There is just something about him that is so alluring and mysterious that my teeth clench from trying to figure him out. I can’t help getting frustrated at myself for thinking only of him. Maybe it’s just because he’s so different from anyone I’ve ever met. His aura is so captivating and it’s like he knows just how to wrap you around his finger.

“How was last night?” Cecilia comes up behind me and takes my plate.

“I wasn’t finished.” I turn and look at her and she rolls her eyes.

“You’ve been pushing that blueberry around with your fork for 10 minutes. You’re finished.” Annoyingly, she’s right. I’m not even hungry anymore. I felt full after just a couple bites. I’ve only been able to eat small meals since leaving the arena.

“Last night was wonderful” she lets out a small laugh at my sarcastic reply.

“Did you meet any of the past victors? It’ll help having some of them close by.” I look down at the table where my plate was.

“I met Chaff and Seeder. They were nice, well, Chaff was a bit..overly friendly..but Seeder was kind. I was told Haymitch would be an ass, but I thought he was alright. Maybe just a bit abrasive.” I shrug. Cecilia hums in response while tapping her fingers on the table. I slightly glance up at her and she looks off and smiles.

“You seem to be leaving a certain person out.” I just look at her. “He’s much more genuine than people give him credit for. You should continue to get to know him. You’re still making allies you know, it doesn’t matter that you’re no longer in the arena.” I nod and turn to look out the window.

The only good thing about being on this train for so long is that I can look at all the trees. I can get lost in them. It brings me some sense of peace with my thoughts being so loud. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to normal. How I’m supposed to just go home and move on. How am I supposed to sleep peacefully each night when there are kids that are dead because of me? I’m not. That’s exactly the point. I’m supposed to feel like my insides are eating me alive and have these nightmares. That’s how Snow wants us to feel. He knows that the games will leave you forever traumatized and he loves it. He’s sick and cruel and twisted.

My nails have drawn blood on my arm from gripping myself so tightly. When I get up to grab a napkin, I realize we’re arriving at District 8. I thought I’d be excited to be home but I just feel numb. Nothing is going to be the same and it terrifies me.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

“You’re home” My mother says so softly. She runs up to me and wraps me in a tight hug when I walk into our new house in Victor’s Village. She cradles my head and rubs my back. The comfort she brings me is instant and I feel like I could collapse into her arms. Maybe I will be okay as long as she’s with me.

For my whole life I’ve only had my mother. I don’t remember my dad. He died when I was very young, but I’ve never felt like something was missing without him. I don’t feel his absence. When my father was 16 his older brother was reaped into the games and his death was so painful, that he swore to never have kids. He didn’t want to bring a child into a world where they could be put through something so heinous and vile, but he met my mother and accidents happen. My mother was anxious of course, but she still wanted to have me. She told me that when she realized she was pregnant with me, my father changed. Like some switch had been flipped. He became a completely different person. He was no longer kind, he drank, and he would have these sudden fits of rage. Mom tried to stay with him. To see if he would go back to the way he was. To see if he was just processing everything in some excessively horrible way, but he only got worse when I was born. So she kicked him out. When I was a bit older she told me that he had been shot by a Peacekeeper for some drunken altercation just days later.

My father didn’t want me and I don’t need him. I don’t feel his absence. All I feel is the love and protection that my mother has given me since I was born. She has never made me feel unwanted or like a burden. She is the strongest person I know and means more to me than anything in this world. If it wasn’t for her, I know I wouldn’t have gotten out of that arena.

“I missed you” I muffle into her shoulder. She puts her hands on my face and moves me to look directly at her.

“I missed you, too, my beautiful girl.” She then kisses me on the forehead, “Come with me. I want to show you want I’ve done with the place and then we’ll eat dinner.” She ushers me around the house showing me the different curtains and blankets she’s made. Most of the blankets she knit in our old home while I was in the arena. She told me that was the only thing she could do to keep from losing herself. While I was on my victory tour she sewed the curtains and a new bedspread for me. It’s a beautiful plum color and it makes the room much more cozy and inviting. Mom and I always try our best to make our home full of color to contrast how grey the district is. That way whenever we get home from a long day in the factories it’s an immediate breath of fresh air. We can almost instantly feel the dread of the day lift off our shoulders.

“You seemed to keep yourself busy” I say as she shows me the pillows in the living room.

“What else was I supposed to do to pass the time?” I laugh and smile so lovingly at her. It’s the first time I’ve been happy since getting reaped. I feel an overwhelming amount of relief that I never thought I’d get.

When she’s finished with the tour I follow her into the kitchen and sit at the table. We eat in a comfortable silence. Mom has always known whether I wanted to talk or not. She never tries to pry unless she knows it’ll help. It’s the first time in the while no one has expected anything of me.

A few days pass and I finally start to get a routine going. My mom goes off to work, thankfully not in the Peacekeeper factory, a different one where she makes an assortment of clothing and I start my morning by going just past the border to the shoreline. It’s the only place where grass grows since it’s far away from all the industrial fumes. I like to sit on the rocky beach and listen to the waves. I bring my sketchbook to work on designing clothes to make for the school children since I have the money to now. It’s something to do to keep me busy and help me feel like I’m doing something to help our community.

The walk home is long, but peaceful. I say hello to those moving on from one job to the next. One of the worst things that the Capitol does do the citizens in 8 is make everyone work long, grueling hours. When school lets out for the day the kids don’t get to go home and play. If there’s free time it means there’s time to work. Our labor is exploited and it’s unforgivable.

When I walk into the house it feels wrong. The air isn’t peaceful, it’s unsettling. It’s smells sickly sweet like roses. Everything seems to be in order, but the door to the study is ajar. I put down my bag and slowly walk through the hall making my way to the open door.

“There’s no need to sneak around in your own home. Please, come join me.” His voice is ice cold and it sends shivers up my spine.

“President Snow” I stiffly walk inside the study, “I apologize. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be home.” He’s sitting at the desk that hasn’t been touched since we moved it.

“Sit, I have some matters to discuss with you.” He gestures to the chair on the other side of the desk and I sit down, “I hope you enjoyed your victory tour.”

“Yes, sir. I did.” I clear my throat my uncomfortably and cross my arms to try and ground myself. I attempt to keep myself from digging my nails into my skin.

“Good, I’m pleased to hear that. I’ve heard lovely things about you. You’re well liked. Many of my colleagues have taken an interest towards you.”

“An interest, sir?” A pit opens in my stomach.

“Yes, Miss Fabelle. A sizable interest, in fact. And this is something that I cannot ignore. You see, these are the kinds of colleagues that sponsor the games and events such as your victory party.” He says as if it’s something I even wanted. He stands and starts to pace around the desk. The overwhelming smell of roses wafts back and forth with each turn. I can feel the nausea starting to grow. “The desire for you has grown quite large and I would hate to disappoint. I understand where they’re coming from. You are indeed a beautiful young woman. So, will you cooperate?” I could’ve gagged right then. He hasn’t said it outright, but I understand him clearly. These people want me. They want my body. His sinister smile grows when he notices how much I’m gripping onto my arms.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I say looking down at my lap. I know I don’t, but a small part of me hopes that if I ask he won’t make me. But that’s just a silly dream. To believe that I could have a choice in any of this. My body isn’t mine. My life isn’t mine. It all belongs to him.

“Of course you have a choice, Miss Fabelle.” He sits back down and my head shoots up to look him in the eye. “But certain choices have consequences. And it would be very unfortunate for perhaps, your mother, to deal with the consequences of your actions.” He sits back down, clearly satisfied with how this talk is going.

The nausea is only getting worse. My mother. He would kill my mother. The only person I have. The only person that I love. Not only is she important to me, she’s important to this district. She’s always been a strong force in the community. She helps those in need in any way she can. She stands up for what she believes in. She’s part of the rebellion that may or may not even come. If something were to happen to her it would end me, but it would also impact so many of those around me. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to her.

“I understand, sir.” I speak so softly, so defeated.

“Good, I’m very pleased.” He stands up to leave, but not before leaving the flower from his coat pocket on the desk. I walk with him to the front door, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall, and he takes a small look around the space. “Thank you for meeting with me, Miss Fabelle. I hope you are enjoying your new home. You seem to have settled right in. It’s very…eclectic. Oh, and I almost forgot to congratulate you on your victory. You did very well. Until next time.” He smiles so sickeningly and then finally leaves. How kind of him to congratulate me. As if him being proud would somehow fill me with such joy and satisfaction.

The nausea finally hits me with full force and I run to the bathroom to empty the contents in my stomach. The smell of stale roses still fills the air and it continues to make me gag. Once I feel well enough to get up, I brush my teeth and head to my room. I don’t even make it to my bed before I collapse, my sobbing overtaking my body. I feel so disgusting. How can this be allowed? How can they force me to kill other people’s children and then this? Is this what they think freedom is? I don’t have to worry about dying anymore, but I have to sell my body. And if I don’t, I have to fear for the life of the person I love most in the world? How am I supposed to do something so vile? How am I supposed to continue to survive like this? I feel like ripping my hair out. Like scratching at my skin until there’s nothing left but bone.

I rush into my bathroom and run a cold shower. I have to calm down. I have to find a way to live with this and keep my mother oblivious. The only way I know how to do that right now is by washing this whole afternoon off of me. Pretending none of it happened. And that’s what I’ll continue to do. When the time comes for me to visit the Capitol again, I’ll just pretend none of it is real. It’s all a dream. A sick, twisted, horrifying dream. And I’ll just have to go from there.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Thank you so much for reading chapter 1! This is my first ever fanfiction that I’ve written so I know it’s far from perfect. I’m growing with my writing as I go, but I hope you still enjoy it! I appreciate any kind feedback!

tag list <3 (I tagged some of y'all who just liked the related posts so I hope thats okay)

@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler

Next Chapter!

#finnick x oc #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #hunger games #mockingjay #thg finnick #thg series #finnick o’dair #finnick x you #hunger games finnick #finnick fanfic #catching fire #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #thg fanfiction #thg fic #thg #district 8 #district 4 #the hunger games #oc fanfiction #original character #headcanon #thg headcanons #thg oc #I Won’t Let You Sink #IWLYS

[kentaroranda]

THE GILDED AGE ✤ a hunger games fanfiction

Turns out, winning the Hunger Games was the easy part. Julius Alexander, citizen of District 2 and victor of the 72nd Hunger Games, thinks he has his entire life figured out. After being the youngest District 2 volunteer to win the Games, he sets out on his victory tour with impossibly high spirits and unshakable confidence. That is, until he meets Fletcher Hunt. Victor of the 68th Hunger Games and a truly depressing guy to be around. After forming an odd bond with Fletcher, Julius begins to look back on his experiences with a different perspective, but the terror of it all doesn't truly hit him until the reaping of the 74th Hunger Games, where his brother Cato volunteers as tribute. From surviving his own games, to watching his brother die, to being thrown back into the arena for a second time, it's safe to say Julius has a lot to be upset about. But Julius Alexander doesn't get upset. Instead, he gets angry. Fletcher Hunt, weighed down by the things he'd been forced to do in order to survive, has a hard time pretending to be happy. He has an even harder time being forced to attend the banquets thrown in honor of the new victors. It's not entirely his fault, then, that he sulks in a corner of the room for most of the evening. It's Julius's fault, really, for approaching him in the first place. But Fletcher likes Julius. Against all odds, and despite Julius's seemingly unshakable ego, Fletcher likes him. He likes him enough to keep meeting him, in the small moments of time that they're awarded together. He never imagined Julius liked him back in any similar capacity. Let alone enough to make sure that Fletcher would survive the Quarter Quell, no matter the cost.

taglist: @kendelias @chlobenet @bravelittleflower @eddiemunscns  @purpleyearning @eddysocs @heavenlysurf @arrthurpendragon @villanele @nolanhollogay @stanshollaand @lovehermioneforever @raith-way @kiara-carrera @decennia @luucypevensie @waterloou @carmens-garden @hiddenqveendom @foxesandmagic @jvstjewels @dragonsbone  @endless-oc-creations @ginevrastilinski @sunlitscribe @dyhlanobrien @partiallypearl @witchofinterest @fleetwoodmcs @daughter-of-melpomene

#ocapp #ocappreciation #thg oc #queerocs #allaboutocs #ch: julius #ch: fletcher #ch: julius alexander #ch: fletcher hunt #sorry if this summary is very chaotic i needed to get this post out like i was a woman possessed #my edits #anyway. gay people time!

[kabuki-draws]

Not me giving President Snow´s wife a face ummm 😳 (also drawing Donald Sutherland!Snow because: important content)

Yeah, I know, I know, we see his family in that one small shot in the HG movie series BUT, it was not enough for me 😤! So I took the pencil and drew this older lady. Old people time. Maybe I´ll draw them in a younger version too, we'll see. 😏✨

#the hunger games #thg series #president snow #coriolanus snow #donald sutherland #thg oc #tbosas #oc art

[itsajollyjester]

Some of the Careers I've come up with for the 71st Hunger Games. I'm not technically writing a OC games type story (Its about Annie as a mentor) but they're in there.

#If anyone's read my thing about how I think past games might have gone #You might know how this alliance ends #I was gonna put the D2 tributes but I ran out of space #the hunger games #thg series #catching fire #mockingjay #hunger games fanart #hunger games oc #digital art #artists on tumblr #clip studio paint #thg oc #hunger games art #jolly art #jolly ocs

[theglamour-theterror]

old billboard of some haymitch guy. he won the 50th game.

#haymitch abernathy #thg #the hunger games #oc x canon #the hunger games oc #thg oc #my art #alexandrite mitchell #original character #oc x character #there we go #insanity unleashed #hope it's well received! i actually enjoyed the processs #proud work #memoir of the past #non character and a guy with a paragraph backstory...yes #book accurate haymitch #save me

[leatherbride]

Random hunger games thought

I literally was thinking of my OC having red hair (not ginger, like blood red) and a story for behind that hair colour as it isn't natural..

what if in district 10, they had to dye the animals with bad chemicals come up by the capitol, to gain the colour for fashion...I could totally see this happening - its borderline similar to the reality of our world and dystopia of it all... Also that in the water system, it would get leaked into human drinking water..

People came out with strange hair, eyes and more issues/abnormalities due to the chemicals changing genetics and more..leading to my OC's red hair?

or have I been re-watching too many resident evil lore vids ? lol

#hunger games #thg series #thg fanfiction #hunger games oc #thg oc #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #katniss everdeen #thg katniss #peeta mellark #finnick odair

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING part. 18

Do I have a problem? Probably. I can't stop writing. And if you want to listen to "Movement" by Hozier during this chapter I recommend it!!

MASTERLIST

18. Betrayal

After two hours you finish your dress, a simple blue dress that is a little too elegant for the district but absolutely plain and casual for Capitol City, but this is the best that you can do with curtains - curtains you never saw and that disappeared and you know absolutely nothing about it. 

You hear the door open and Effie comes into the room, with a wide smile on her face and red cheeks.

«Why are you here? I thought you would sleep at Portia’s.» You ask, as curious as a monkey. 

«We decided not to make it fast.»

Oh. You did everything fast. One minute you said something about your feelings and the moment after you were moaning on his disgusting bed.

But then again, you were going to die, they are not.

«Wise women. So…?» You pat the bed, so she could sit there. 

«I don’t know, Daisy. I really don’t know. Mather would kill me.» You stroke her hair. Now that she has natural hair she is even more beautiful, you think. Strawberry blonde hair, you have no idea why she used to hide them. If you had strawberry blonde hair you would show them off everyday. 

«Welcome to the club, we meet on Saturdays.»

«I always thought we were friends. I loved her, but… I loved her as a friend. And now I’m feeling something else. I don’t know what I like, but I know I like Portia. I thought about losing her and I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe.» You take her hand.

When you discovered you liked Dianna you were terrified and alone, at the age of fourteen in your room with a big secret that you knew could be dangerous in a place like District 12. Now it doesn’t have to be like that for Effie. It won’t be like that for Effie, if you can do something about it. She is not alone. 

«I’m so happy for you, Effie. You deserve it.» You hug her tight. «And Portia is beautiful, you are beautiful, you will make a great couple at the party!» 

With the last word is like she wakes up from a dream, she has a wedding to prepare. She almost finished everything, always on schedule, always on time. 

«Oh yeah, the party. Do you want a dress? I managed to take some with me.» She opens the little wardrobe they gave you. There are two or three dresses, such a pity for all the beautiful things you are sure she has.

«Oh no I did it, but can I say it’s one of yours?» You innocently ask. «I don’t think they would like for me to use their curtains. And maybe Perla or Lora won’t have anything to wear.»

«Of course.» She laughs, but then her eyes soften a little. «Ehi, I’ve seen your mother around. She is always with that woman.»

That woman. Marjorie. You don’t really want to hate her, but it’s like she tries to steal everything from you. She befriended Holly, and you and your mother are not on the best terms right now. You say hi, ask her how she is and then nothing. It’s a pity, considering you two were really close before the games.

«Yeah, I know. They were friends when they were children or something, apparently Holly was her babysitter.» You scuff, clearly annoyed.

«Is that okay for you?» Effie is too polite to say what she wants to say. Holly, on the other hand, is never kind with her opinion on the woman.

«I suppose.» You look at her, «No. No, it’s not okay. She’s the woman that broke my heart. My mother shouldn't want to spend time with her.» You curl against her. You never sleep in your bed, maybe Portia won’t like it and you will begin to, but for now you want your cuddles. «Is that selfish of me?»

«Maybe.» She takes some hair out of your face. «But your mother should have you as a priority.»

«I don’t get it. She said she was sorry for Clark when she saw he wanted to kill me, now she is friends with the woman who stole Haymitch from me… and I know it’s bad to say, women don’t “steal”, but she kinda did it. Just her.» You pout. You are being unfair and you know it, Marjorie has been through hell, but she demanded her price without thinking of you. You were there. You exist.

«You know your mother didn’t want you two together.»

«Yeah, she probably is her best friend for this reason.» You shrug, «Maybe she would prefer me to be still perfect but dead.»

«Don’t even mention it. I prefer you very much alive, darling girl.» She wraps her arms around your waist.

«And that is why you are my best friend.» You watch her with a grin. «And now that Portia is your girlfriend, I can be your best friend too!»

«You are sweet, you know that?» She laughs at you. «Yes.»

After a morning spent trying to prepare a very frightened bride, it seems like you succeeded. Annie is beautiful in her white long dress, with her red hair wrapped in a complicated braid and a little bit of makeup on her face. She is very simple, the best definition for her is pure. She is pure.

She will be a very happy bride. 

«I’ll go check on the groom.» You announce, because you don’t trust the men to do a great job with Finnick. «I’ll come back.»

Finnick is, in fact, alone in his room. Stupid men. How is it that Annie is surrounded by her friends and the male companions didn’t think of it? Nobody should prepare himself alone on the day of his wedding. 

You knock, but he already saw you and he just smiles at you. «If you came because you are utterly in love with me and you want to beg me to cancel the wedding, I’m afraid I can’t anymore.»

You roll your eyes. «You break my heart.»

«Well with you in this dress, likewise.» 

His flirting means nothing, you are well aware he is stranded with love for Annie Cresta. You admit you are beautiful today, tho. The dress you sew yourself suits you like a glove, and now you are wrapped in a long blue dress with a low cleavage - just to spite your mother - and a round skirt. Your raven hair is up in a loose braid, and you went for simple makeup too, it is all you have after all.

«Do you need help with that, Odair?» You ask, lifting the tie. He does not, you already know that, they are great with knots in District Four, but it’s a bit of a tradition. Mags is not there for him, and nobody apparently cares enough to stand with him - he is very close to Katniss, but the poor girl is not in her right mind at the moment, losing Peeta broke her. 

You can step up for a minute.

«If you want.» He flashes a smile at you. He is so happy and so calm. He is twenty four and he is getting married, and he is calm.

«How am I more nervous than you are?» You tease, while you knot the tie. 

«Annie is the woman of my life and I love her?» He guesses. «I’m sure of my intention. I want a family with her, raise a bunch of children, and I want to love her forever. Why would I be nervous? This is the first thing I’m sure of in my entire life.» 

Your smile fades a little. You are being selfish, but you can’t help but compare the situation. Finnick is sure he wants a future with Annie, and they went through hell and back to be with each other. Finnick was abused, Annie was tortured, and yet they were never in doubt with the love they had for each other. She is his first thought in the morning and the last at night. They are what poetry is about. 

He was her mentor too. They have just a few years of difference, but he was the first fourteen years old victor in the history of Panem. He has loved her since he was sixteen, like in a fairy tale.

«I envy you. What you have is precious.» You cup his cheek on your hand and squeeze a little in reassurance. «I’m sure you won’t waste it.»

«You will have that too. One day someone will step on the door and you’ll know you will love him forever.» 

You can’t help but shake your head. «I wanted it with someone and he didn’t. End of story.»

«End of story? You are twenty four!» He protests, but you shush him. 

«This is your wedding day. Let’s not talk about me.»

«Finnick for fucks sakes why you didn’t tell me- oh. Sweetheart.» 

Haymitch barges in the room like a fury, raging about something until he sees you. He is in his jumpsuit, didn’t bother to change into something more fitting for the occasion, but he is still handsome. His hair is brushed and he cutted his beard.

Or she did it for him.

Capitol City, two days before the games

You have been in the bathroom for an hour now and you didn’t accomplish anything. Alone you would, but your mentor is not as disciplined as you.

«Dear heavens Haymitch, I will hurt you! I have a blade in my hand!» You laugh, trying to sneak out of his embrace. He doesn’t let you go, though. Too busy kissing your neck, biting your collarbone like a damn cannibal.

«Why bother with the beard when we could spend our time together in a different, tastier way?» He grins as he puts a hand on your thigh, trying to open your legs a little. He is not gentle, he is never gentle, but he can handle his strength and he is sure he is not hurting you. 

«Tastier? Am I a cake?» You giggle. 

«You are delicious, sweetheart.» Now his hand is definitely between your legs, and you can’t think about anything when he kisses you like that.

«And you will be handsome when we cut your beard! Hands where I can see them!» You order. 

«You like my beard.» He pouts. He actually pouts. He is adorable when he is vulnerable, and you can’t help but kiss him again and again and again.

«Yeah, when it’s in control. Now it’s out of control and your hands shake too much to do it alone.»

«I trust you with a blade, gorgeous.» He grins like a devil, «It’s just hard to stay close to you without touching you.»

«Really?» You wrap your arms around his neck. «Are you whipped like that?» 

«I refuse to answer.» He locks you in his arms and pecks your lips. «Hi beautiful.»  

You look at him in a way that you really hope he doesn’t understand. «Hi. We won’t shorten the beard, will we?»  

«Let's see, shorten a beard or devour my girl?»

In the end, you didn’t cut the beard.

«Hi.»

He looks at you. You feel proud that his eyes go wide and he can’t stop wandering through your body for a moment before recollecting himself. You always loved how he watched you, like you are something precious, to protect. You don’t think you need protection so much, but you want someone who is willing to do that.

And then you remember you don’t have him anymore.

«Hi.» You answer, trying to keep your voice down.

«You look nice.» He offers, as he takes a step next to you. You are not sure you want him close, if you can’t kiss him. 

«You don’t look so bad yourself. You shaved.» You point out, memories creep in your mind. 

He shrugs, «Yeah, I needed it and it’s a way to keep Katniss out of her thoughts.»

So it’s Katniss who helped him, not Marjorie. It’s nothing, but you feel happier already. Although you don’t know if it’s safe to keep Katniss near a blade right now. 

«She did a good job.» You grant. He takes another step closer to you.  

«She didn’t cut my throat and that’s enough, I suppose. Nice dress.» 

You can’t help but grin when his eyes stare again at your body, knowing that he wants it too. A month ago he could have ripped it out of you at the end of the day. You would lie if you refused to admit you did sew it thinking about his reaction.

«I did it myself.» You add, very much proud of your job. 

«You are talented, I’ll give you that.» He caresses your hip with the palm of his hand and you whimper. «Are you going alone tonight?»

«All alone, yes. Well, with Perla and Lora.» You don’t want to ask him that stupid question. You know he doesn’t go alone at the wedding, he is taking that disgusting woman and you don’t want to be reminded of that.

You don’t speak anymore and neither does he, but you stay there, he has a hand on your waist, you begin to do small circles on his arm with your finger, your hazel eyes locked into his blue ones, and you really don’t want to move because for a minute you can pretend he is taking to the wedding, that everything is normal again.

Until Finnick clears his throat. 

«I feel very much ignored on my wedding day.» He declares, annoyed and offended. «Now, Haymitch has to stay with me at the altar and Daisy needs to help Annie, so go.»

«I’ll go, I’ll go!» You jump at his voice and you run to the door, back to reality.

You end up crying at the wedding. The ceremony is beautiful, Finnick and Annie are burning with happiness and they are so beautiful, they sincerely look like a team. If there’s someone out there who deserves it it’s Finnick. 

Also, the cafeteria is very nice and you are proud of what you and the others have done, the atmosphere is almost magical for a grey and sad place such as District 13. 

When the groom and the bride start the dance, you go sit down at a table. You are not in the mood for dancing, not with Holly who watches you like a hawk and Marjorie who is begging Haymitch to take her for a dance, claiming too loudly that he danced when he was sixteen and it’s just like a bicycle.

Effie and Portia are dancing together, and you don’t want to disturb them, Lora is nowhere to be seen, you are content just to stay alone.

«I refuse to see you like that.»

Perla sits next to you and she takes your hand in hers, and she ignores your glare. She is very beautiful tonight, she borrowed a dress from Effie that fits her like a glove, a bustier sundress white and silver. Not exactly Effie’s colours - she’s great in golden, but then again she must have packed the most simple dresses she had. 

Her auburn hair is let loose on her shoulders and, well, her sparkling blue eyes are always mesmerising. 

«Perla! I was perfectly fine-»

«Watching your ex dancing with his girlfriend? No way. You are hot. You are young. He is the one who has to eat his guts in regret.» She seems very convinced, and she is your friend, but you would really prefer to stay on your seat. «I’ve met someone.»

«Perla, it’s fantastic! Who’s the lucky guy?» You ask her, curious, but she dismisses.

«Not important.»

«Must be very special.» You deadpan.

She ignores you. «What’s important is that he has a friend.» 

You immediately shake your head. «No way. I’m sorry but I’m not ready for…»

«I’m not offering you the love of your life! Flirt a little, give him a kiss, have mind blowing sex to help you forget! That’s what boys are for. His name is Caius. C’mon… you know you want it…»

You roll your eyes and you are about to say no, but then you see them. Marjorie succeeded in the begging, and now they are dancing and laughing about something. He is not a dancer for sure, but he is trying, and she looks like she’s having the time of her life, smiling so hard that her face will ache tomorrow. They whisper and talk and sometimes she gives him a kiss on the cheek, always a little closer to the mouth. 

They are objectively cute. Same age, same district, same passions and same history. Made to be together. 

You repress the urge to cry. 

«Okay.» You tell her, «Take me to Caius.»

Caius is a good looking man. He is thirty, a guard in District 13 (You wonder if there are other jobs in this bloody district), he has blonde hair and green eyes, he is fit and tall. Good looking indeed.

And he is utterly, majestically, completely boring.

He takes you to dance and his hands are too low on your back for their own good, while he has a smile on his face that you claim all your patience not to call “stupid”.

C’mon, you are being mean. You are being mean and he is surely a great guy.

«…And that is how I managed to become a guard. I’ve watched you in the games.» He begins, and you try not to tense. You never talk or think about the games, but during the night sometimes you scream until Effie wakes you up and then you cry into her arms. Saint Effie. «The way you killed that man? Clever.»

You force a smile at him. At least now he wants you to talk, after half an hour of monologue. «I wish I wouldn’t. I had to.» You remind him. It has not been exactly a choice. 

«Yeah, yeah, of course. Now you are safe.» 

«Thank you, by the way. Your district saved us.» Your bloody disgusting district who nearly killed your lover.

Ex lover.

«When we take the Capitol, everything will be like District 13.» You hope you die before it. 

«Although… There are things I miss. Like the sun. Or the clothes! Don’t you want your own clothes?» You try. You really miss the sun, you are used to take care of Haymitch’s garden at home, and grow your plants. You miss the damn geese. 

«What do you mean? You have clothes.» He is confused. It’s okay he is confused, he grew up in hell.

«These are not clothes, they are uniforms. Clothes are supposed to be different, to be yours. You can express yourself through your choice of clothing. Like, I used to braid daisies in my hair and embroider them in my dresses.»

«Why?» 

«Because… My name is Daisy.» You look at him and you decide that the talking part is done.

The kissing part is no better. You don’t have that much experience, but even his kisses are boring. There is too much tongue, his hands are exploring you like you are a new continent and yet you don’t feel anything.

Nothing. Dry like the desert. 

«You are beautiful.» He pants. That, you like. You don’t like so much he took you in a dark corner and started to kiss your neck, but then again… at least it’s not your mouth.

«Thanks.» You answer and you kiss him again, absolutely not because Haymitch is looking at you. 

«Can’t wait to be in my room.» He keeps going. He talks a lot. «The things I’ll do to you.» 

«Yeah? Like what?» You try, you really try. Your hand is on his firm chest and you lift up your leg a little against his pants, just to give him a peek of what it could be having you. 

«Well, like… well I’ll show you.» He blabbers and you reprime the urge to roll your eyes. 

«Of course you will.» You pat his chest in a very friendly way and straight up. «Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet.» 

«I’ll wait here!» He offers, but you shake your head.

«Don’t need to, I’ll find you!»

You won’t.

You run through the corridor and stay there. You are hiding like a coward, but it’s better to listen to him talking again and again and it’s surely better than watching the wonderful couple dancing together. Oh, and Holly was looking at you like you were a complete disappointment and you probably are and…

«There you are.» You suddenly feel a hug from behind and you are ready to tell Caius to go away, but it’s not his voice, it’s another. A voice that should be dancing with a new girlfriend.

«What are you doing here?» You ask harshly, but you relax in his embrace. 

«I’ve seen you storming out and I got worried.» He makes you turn around and his face darkens. «Why are you crying? Did he do something to you? I’ll-»

«No.» You put a hand on his chest to block him. You didn’t even realise you were crying. «He didn’t do anything. He is nice.» 

«You like him?» He asks, and his voice is more accusing than what he is right to be. 

«So what if I do?» You shoot back, but then you make a face. There’s no point in lying. «No, I don’t. I tried. He is fucking boring.»

«Sweetheart…» He cups your face with his callous hands. It’s funny, Caius is your age, he is better looking, he is fitter… and yet right now you would jump Haymitch’s bones just because he caressed your cheek. «That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You have to find someone you really like. Even if it takes longer.»

You really don’t want a lecture from him, just because he found his person, his “One”. He was your One. He has no right to tell you what to do.

«I just wanted to fuck.» You answer bluntly, or better yet, you lie. You had no intention of going into his room. «Do you have a problem with that too?»

«No.»

«Good. So don’t save me when I fall, don’t punch people because of me, don’t follow me in dark corners, don’t do anything! Don’t talk to me, don’t touch me because every time you do that I want you more!» You push him away, clearly hurt. He is taken by surprise. «So what if I want to fuck all the boys from District 13? I’ll do that and then I’ll fuck away the pain and it doesn’t matter if I’ll be-»

You can’t finish your sentence, because his lips are on yours in a crashing kiss. His arms are around your waist and his hands on your back and he almost crushes you, but you let him. In a moment you are against the wall, and you know you should stop but you won’t. 

«I can’t stop thinking about you.» He whispers against your lips. «I try and I end up following you like a fucking lovesick puppy.»

You can’t help but smile fondly. «Because I’m perfect.»

«Because you are perfect.» He agrees, even though it was a joke, and he lifts you up, his hands touch you in places that are his. There’s not even competition.

«I should let you go.» He murmurs, but this time you are ready, this time you kiss away his doubts. 

«Don’t let me go.» You whisper in his ear.

«I’m being selfish.» He protests, but your hands are already unbuttoning his shirt. «When I saw you with that man I-» He kisses you again, with rage, with jealousy, but when the clothes are on the floor and you two are one, there is no doubt who you belong to. 

taglist: @crimsonincursive

#fanfiction #haymitch abernathy #haymitch imagine #the hunger games #bad feeling #haymitch x fem!reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch x reader #woody harrelson #daisy pinecone #finnick odair #thg x reader #thg haymitch #thg oc #thg fanart #thg #thg fanfiction #katniss everdeen

[mxdnights0]

Mags Flanagan Character Deep Dive

FC: Lili Reinhart

Name: Mags Flanagan  Age: 16 during her games, but the fic will highlight a lot of her life Gender: Female District: 4 Victor of the 11th Annual Hunger Games Sexuality: Bisexual Personality : She is reputed to be a lovely woman. She was a motherly type person, always protecting people when she could. If you hurt her, there wasn’t a thing you could do to fix it. History: At the age of 16, Mags became the victor of the 11th Hunger Games. Her skill with fish hooks and other natural skills she likely acquired from living in District 4 probably played a role in her victory. She was the first victor to embark on a Victory Tour, as the victors before her were simply transported home after their victories. She was also presumably the first victor to move to the Victor's Village directly after their Games, as well as the first to receive a token monetary prize for winning, as both ideas were first implemented in the 11th Hunger Games. Strengths: Mags had the ability to make fish hooks out of anything, and weave baskets so well that they could float in water without any leaking in Weaknesses: too trusting, not a great runner Weapon of choice: Trident Other weapons: Fish Hooks, traps Family: Rowena Malcolm (Wife), Finnick Odair (Like a Son), Annie Cresta (Like a daughter), Alana Flanagan (Mother) {Deceased}, Connor Flanagan (Father) {Deceased}, Jasper Flanagan (Little brother) {Deceased}, Lily Flanagan (Little Sister) {Deceased}, Zella Flanagan (Little Brother) {Deceased}, Annie Flanagan (Baby Sister) {Deceased}, Peggy Flanagan (Older sister) {Deceased} Friends: Tigris, Rowena, Haymitch Abernathy, Seeder (A victor of district 11), Woof (A victor of district 8) Cecelia (Victor from District 8) Special Skills: Her fishhooks are never failing, and her foraging skills and knowledge for plants Alliances?: During her games, she had alliances with both kids from 7, someone from 10, and her district mate Dolion Graystone. Romance?: Dolion Graystone (Past), Rowena Malcolm (Current) Volunteer/Chosen?: Chosen Reaction to reaping: Frozen, Fear Token: a silver pearl ring Peggy had given to her Chariot Outfit: 

Interview Outfit:

Interview Angle: determined, bold Reaping Outfit: 

Training room strategy: She didn’t really have a strategy, she stayed to herself. What skill did they show to gamemakers?: This wasn’t a thing in her games. It wasn’t until the year after that they decided to do it What kind of score would they get?: 6 or 7 probably

#hunger games #the hunger games #finnick odair #josh hutcherson #mags flanagan is a bisexual icon #mags #mags flanagan's wife #mags flanagan #mags flanagans games #mockingjay #katniss everdeen #primrose everdeen #johanna mason #peeta mallark #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #thgedit #thg oc #thg movies #district 12 #district 4

[jessicatredes]

sutherland acosta; victor of the 68th hunger games & tribute for the 75th

sutherland acosta volunteered as tribute in the 68th hunger games; replacing a victor's child from the reaping. she believed she was exchanging district 10's community home for the grave, only to return for the victor's village. described as calculating and formidable, the seventeen year old quickly became beloved in the capitol. seven years later and sick of being a plaything to citizens of the capitol, sutherland would volunteer for a second time in the third quarter quell.

#me about making a thg oc: im not gonna do it... im just thinking about it im not gonna do it #I DID IT AND I LOVE HER IMMEDIATELY #myocs* #oc: sutherland acosta #thg oc #inspo for edits are the mags victory tour posters :-) #the hunger games #i want to write... but im super busy this weekend so probably wont until next

[that-demigirl]

Introducing...

Lydia O'Dair

Victor of the 66th Hunger Games

Elder Sister of Finnick O'Dair

The Capitol's Siren

Many rumors surrounded the reaping of one Lydia O'Dair. At the age of 17 she was reaped for the 66th Hunger Games, just one year after her younger brother had become the victor of the games himself. The leading theory around her reaping is that it was rigged to chose her, to teach young Finnick a lesson. It was a threat from the capitol, even Finnick was sure. Yet, Lydia won anyways. In part due to her strong need to get back to her younger brother and in part due to Finnick's popularity among the capitol's citizens.

After her victory, Lydia became quite popular with the capitol's citizens as well. Finnick and her were never seen apart unless they were seen with their various "lovers". Lydia hated being used by President Snow this way but she had no other choice... for the safety of Finnick, their family, and Annie. She found the silver lining though, as her and her brother learned many, many secrets.

It was a couple years before Lydia met Johanna Mason. At first as a tribute, then as a victor. The two women became fast friends, though many questioned it due to their differing personalities. The longer they spent around each other the more the two grew closer. By the 75th Hunger Games the two were inseperable, almost as close as Lydia and Finnick. Though were their feelings as... platonic as they seemed? What happens when Lydia, Finnick, and Johanna all have to re-enter the arena, together?

(sorry for the long and slightly chaotic summary)

Taglist: (ask to be added) @arrthurpendragon @eddysocs

#my oc #ocappreciation #oc intro #oc: lydia odair #fd: the hunger games #li: johanna mason #hunger games oc #thg oc #the hunger games #finnick odair #johanna mason

[kald-dal-art]

Finally after so long I have an access to a scanner so have some of my THG/TBOSAS drawings from my sketchbooks, so hope you enjoy these

#the hunger games #thg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg fanart #tbosas fanart #annie cresta #mags flanagan #lucy gray baird #jessup diggs #mizzen tbosas #coral tbosas #lysistrata vickers #lamina tbosas #tanner tbosas #treech tbosas #cecelia thg #the morphlings #thg oc #sketchbook #sketches #watercolor #fan art #district 2 #district 4 #district 6 #district 7 #district 8 #district 10 #district 12

[redwinetalks]

I Won’t Let You Sink

Chapter 2

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Finnick X Fem!OC

Warnings: slight self harm, angst, fluff kinda, protective Finnick, the Capitol sells them unfortunately, hurt/comfort, pre-canon, young Finnick and Silk, Silk AND Finnick pov, Silk doesn’t understand that’s she’s crushing on Finnick,

Summary: Silk is back a the Capitol and she’s in for a rough night! She’s real stressed and Finnick tries to comfort her teehee.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

~ Silk ~

Only a few weeks have passed and I find myself back at the Capitol. It feels too soon. Like the days sped up so I couldn’t even try to feel the happiness I found back at home. I only was given a few days before any thought of peace was stripped away from my arms.

I feel greatly exposed while standing on the small platform in the middle of a room filled with mirrors. Everyone who’s here to help make me “beautiful” is just staring at me. I wish I could sink through the floor.

My stylist, Bijou, is filled with much more excitement than I am as she rips the last wax strip off my leg. I purse my lips at the pain.

“Last one! Now you’re all silky smooth. Just like your name!” She smiles widely and laughs at her unoriginal pun. I try to smile back at her but I can only muster up a slight twitch of my lips. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Now, you’re going to get your makeup and hair done, then you can just step into your dress! Oh, you’re going to love it! I worked extra hard on this one. I have to make you even more eye catching.”

Bijou has always been very kind just maybe a bit oblivious. She probably doesn’t even know why I’m supposed to stand out more than usual tonight. I wonder if she’d be sick to her stomach like I am if she knew what was happening. But maybe she does know, and that makes it even more gut wrenching.

She continues her rambling while the makeup teams tries to bring back the life drained from my face.

“You know, I’ve always liked District 8. I mean, yes it is very dreary, but your people created the beautiful fabric used to make the dress! And the clothes you all wear look so bright and colorful. It’s such a shame the place has to look so drab.” Her words actually cause me to let out a small laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone speak nicely about 8, especially in the Capitol.

“Thank you, Bijou. That’s very kind.” She smiles widely again and I notice the little jewels on her canines. The people here seem to want to bejewel everything.

I can tell that the purpose of my makeup was to makeup me look more innocent. They used an excessive amount of blush and made my lips look quite pouty. They straightened my hair and curled it just slightly at the ends. A few strands are tied up in the back with a delicate bow. If I didn’t know the purpose of this look was to make me have more “doll like” features, maybe I would like it. But I’m just thinking of the sick creatures who desire me looking like this.

Bijou leads me back to the small platform to put on my dress. She was right, the fabric is beautiful. The light pink dress has a corset bodice adorned with pearls and floral lace skirt that goes to my ankles. It leaves my shoulders exposed which must be why the makeup team made them look so shiny.

I wonder if they were asked to make me look specifically like this, as if by request. Am I wanted to be in pink because it’s someone’s favorite color? Are my lips supposed to look this pouty so they can seem more irresistible? These thoughts fill me with a sickening feeling of dread. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at myself again without wondering what predatory thoughts fill those who see me. Is this how I’ve always been thought of? Someone who can be easily taken advantage of and damaged?

“Darling? Come now.” I quickly turn to Bijou as she takes my hand. “You have a short meeting with Snow before you go to the party.” I look at her with a panicked expression. I didn’t know I was to be meeting with him. “Oh don’t look so nervous! He’s only a little intimidating.” She giggles and leads me out the room.

I walk a few steps behind her, my uneasiness slowing down my pace. I know he’ll probably only give me more information about tonight, but that thought does nothing to ease my anxiety. The corset doesn’t help either.

The walk to wherever we’re meeting is incredibly daunting. Part of me hopes the walk never ends, but the other part can’t wait to get this over with. It’s not even like I’ll be filled with relief once I’m done talking with Snow. I’ll immediately have another thing to worry about. It’s an endless cycle of horrors.

“Here we are!” Bijou stops and opens a door. I struggle to make myself move. “Darling?” She looks at me with her cheery face, but there’s a hint of confusion.

“Sorry, I…” I trail off. She doesn’t understand and I can’t explain it to her. There is no one here that I can express my true feelings to. There is no one to comfort me. I just have to push through on my own.

Apprehensively, I walk through the doorway and there he is. He sits in a large, dark leather chair with his back facing me. Drink in hand, his arm drapes off the armrest and on the floor I can see his foot tapping. Not impatiently, but as if he’s counting the tempo of a song stuck in his head.

The room isn’t at all inviting. What I’ve seen from the Capitol’s style so far has been over the top and extravagant, but this is much different. Everything seems to be curated to Snow’s image, very poised and crisp. He is tasteful, not at all gaudy, and it makes everything intimidating.

Unlike the beginning of his first visit, he isn’t ushering me to sit. He’s letting me take my time to walk around to the chair directly across from him. It feels like I’m walking to my death and the fearfulness radiating off my body is adding to his entertainment. I try to look more composed and unbothered by his presence, but I know it falls flat. He can see me inside and out. I am wrapped around his finger and it’s agonizing.

“Miss Fabelle, you look lovely. Thank you for meeting with me to discuss tonight’s events.” He gives me a small, cunning smile as I sit. He gestures to an envelope on the small table beside my chair. “That, my dear, contains all the details you will need. You are to be on your best behavior and arrive to your room at your scheduled time.” I tensely nod at him. He looks directly into my eyes and I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to talk back to him. It won’t do me any good. Snow does a good job at staying calm and collected, but it’s not hard to see the true evil that’s inside him. He is successfully sucking the life from me.

“Yes, sir.” He stands and then walks to the window behind me. I shut my eyes and put my hand on my chest to try and calm my breathing. The smell of roses fills my senses.

“That’ll be all, Miss Fabelle. I do hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities, but remember dear girl, you are here on business. This party isn’t for your entertainment.” I stand and nervously straighten out my dress.

“Yes, President Snow. I understand.” And I am thankfully dismissed from this suffocating room, on to the next horror.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

~ Finnick ~

The amount of linen my stylist chose to put me in isn’t at all ideal considering the weather. It’s still a bit chilly out and the thin cloth makes me feel practically naked, well that and the fact that my shirt is barely even buttoned.

It’s only been an hour and I’m already fed up with the amount of women that have all but drooled on me. Women that are probably ten or twenty years older than me. It will never not be completely disgust me, the Capitol’s obsession with teenagers that have been forced to murder. Getting aroused by that is fucking psychotic.

“Finnick! It is such a pleasure to see you again.” A woman I faintly remember from one of the last parties walks towards me. Her bright orange feather dress is practically blinding.

“The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” I wink and kiss her hand. I’d say she’s blushing but it could just be all of the makeup she’s wearing.

“You’re always so charming. I can’t wait to see how you’ll charm me later tonight.” She whispers in my ear and then gives it a swift lick. Her boldness almost makes me jump back. I could gag, but then I’d ruin the facade.

“C’mon now, don’t get me all riled up here.” I whisper back, thankful she can’t see my face. I know the look in my eyes isn’t at all believable. “Save it for later.” I smirk at her before walking away.

I walk towards a table of drinks and finger foods. I’m gonna need to down a bottle of something to get through his night. I see her as she goes to grab a glass of wine at the opposite end of the table. Silk. Wine seems to be her drink of choice. She almost goes for the red, but pauses and then reaches for the rosé. Probably a wise decision considering the color of her dress. The pink really looks stunning on her.

I didn’t expect to see her again so soon, but there she is. They didn’t even give her time to get her bearings before dragging her back over here. She looks like she’s glowing. I’m sure part of that effect is from her stylist, but not all of it. There’s something about her that makes her shine. In a way that’s soft and ethereal, like moonlight. If she is the moon, Silk pulls me into her world like the tides. And I go willingly.

I’m not sure what it was, but when I first saw her I felt immediately drawn in. When she was standing away from the crowd, finally getting away from the vultures, I felt like I had to meet her. It could’ve been my only chance. And she was nothing if not astonishing. I didn’t have enough time with her. I was left wanting more, but there was nothing I could do since I had other obligations. I’m not as busy tonight which is a relief. I may have more time to get to know her.

I walk towards her, looking around to make sure no one is itching for my attention.

“Hello again, Silk Fabelle.” She flinches, not unlike when I first met her, but it’s even more noticeable this time. “You know, I really don’t mean to startle you with every greeting.” I laugh but her expression doesn’t change a bit.

“It’s fine.” Something is off. The air around her is different.

“What’s going on, doll face?” She looks at me and glares. Shit. Why did I say that? Of course calling her by what the Capitol has deemed her as would be triggering. I wish I would think before I fucking speak. She has a way of making me so nervous, something others can’t do so easily. I’m usually more grounded. I’ve gotten so good at this confident facade of flirtations that it’s almost as easy as breathing. But with her…I feel it melting away. Like I’m having to relearn how to communicate.

“Don’t call me that.” She turns away from me and looks at her glass. I swear I can see tears brimming her eyes.

“I..I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known not to.” She doesn’t look back up at me. I reach out my hand to her arms and she backs away slightly.

“What do you want, Finnick?” Her tone isn’t malicious, it sounds defeated. When she finally looks back up at me I can almost feel my heart breaking. She looks so empty.

“I just…are you okay?” And then it hits me. They’ve started selling her. But It isn’t her time to start. It can’t be. She just finished the games, they can’t be moving this fast with her.

“Just trying to make it through the night.” She gives me a pitiful smile. “You should go enjoy it while you can.” She starts to walk away, but I can’t let her leave yet.

“Silk, please.” She stops and turns back towards me. I wish I could embrace her and tell her it’ll be okay. But I can’t and it won’t. There’s nothing I can do to stop what Snow has planned for her.

“I’ve got places to be, Finnick. People to meet. Maybe another time we can finally have a full conversation.” Sorrow fills her voice. I watch her walk away and the pull that I feel from her just gets stronger. I want to be wrong. I wish that she could just be left alone, but I know how her night will go. I know that in the next few hours she will have yet another trauma. Another nightmare that will wake her in the night. But I refuse to let her suffer alone.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

~ Silk ~

The man that bought my time for the night finally leaves and I’m left on the bed, still face down. Maybe if I lay here long enough I can melt away. I could just become a decayed mess that was left here to rot. My skin burns and I can feel the tears trickle across my face and onto the bedspread. I finally sit up to cover myself with the sheets and make my way the bathroom. I only make it two steps before my legs give out on me and I drop to the ground. I just continue with a slow, pathetic crawl. I can’t imagine what I look like, but the thought is enough to make me vomit once I reach the toilet. Once I finish I continue to sit there and let go of the sobs that I was holding in. I want to scream until my throat turns raw and bleed, but I have to suck it all up. The punishment that my mom would have to pay the price for constantly floats around in my thoughts. It torments me.

I finally try to stand up and I brace myself against the counter. I stare just below the mirror for what feels like hours until I shakily raise my head to look at myself. I don’t even know who is staring back at me. She’s looks broken and filled with dread. I see only a shell of a human being. I feel so infuriated with what she has just gone through. What she has been going through. Before I realize, I grab a candle that was sitting on the counter and throw it at the mirror. My hands are shaking as the shattered glass falls into the sink. If only that had helped release some of my built up tension. All I can do is stand there and look at the mess.

I’m startled by the door to my room opening and I wrap myself tighter in the sheet. An avox enters to fix up the bed, but she notices me cowering in the bathroom doorway. She looks at the broken glass and doesn’t seem phased at all. I feel guilty for her having to clean it up, but hopefully she can forgive me all things considered.

She stands just outside the bathroom door once she’s done making up the bed. As if she’s ushering me to leave so she can start clearing away my breakdown. I hesitantly walk past her back into the bedroom. I see a change of clothes on the dresser for me and since she’s shut away in the bathroom I go ahead and put them on.

I don’t think I can lay again in that bed, let alone sleep in it, so I just sit down on the floor by the loveseat. I feel quite pathetic. I feel angry. I feel like I could burst at the seams, just like my dress did. I wonder how Bijou would feel knowing the dress she worked so hard to make is now ripped up on the floor.

“I don’t care. I don’t care about the mirror that I shattered. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about anyone or anything here. I don’t fucking care.” The saliva built up from my tears and sick spit out slightly as I whisper angrily to myself. Without realizing, I’m also sinking my nails into my shoulders while holding myself. I’ve grown to do that a lot now. Mostly when my anger and sadness builds up. The sight of me is a disgusting mess, I’m sure of it. I didn’t used to feel this weak and despondent. I used to be confident and full of so much life. I was passionate about caring for my district, but I tried to always remain positive. I tried to stay hopeful. But I’m scared that’s all gone. That I’ve lost who I was and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find her again. She has sunken into the abyss and there is no one to bring her back to the surface.

The avox walks out of the bathroom finally and looks at me on the floor. She looks like she has a some pity in her eyes, but it quickly fades away when she turns to leave the room. As she opens the door I can see a figure standing in the hall. Is there going to be someone else? Am I not done? My nails sink farther further into shoulders and I stare into the hallway, not even trying to hide the panic in my eyes.

The avox walks away and I can see that it isn’t someone here to use me, it’s Finnick. But why is Finnick here? How does he even know that I’m here. I know I didn’t even try to hide my misery, but how did he find me?

“Silk..?” He looks at me with that familiar softness in his green eyes. “Is it okay if I come in” he speaks in a whisper.

“How’d you know I was in here?” I say quickly as if I’m accusing him of something.

“I bribed an avox into pointing me to your room.” I can tell he was about to use his suave way of speaking to lighten the mood, but it isn’t the time. He knows to be serious.

“Why?” I say so plainly. He doesn’t have to be here. He doesn’t know me. There isn’t anything to gain from being here. But he looks at me with hurt, but it’s hurt for me. Is it so insane to wonder why anyone would want to be here with me right now?

“Because, I know what happened here. And I said I didn’t want you to have to go through this alone. I meant that. Especially with this.” And the sadness in his eyes is back. The same look from when we met. The illusion has faded and I can see that this is what is causing him to sink. I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he is going through this too, I just didn’t think about how many others Snow is forcing to sell their bodies.

I nod at him and move over on the floor, allowing him to come in. He sighs and smiles sadly at me but I look down and continue to hold onto myself. Like I’m scared I’ll float away. He walks in slowly to not cause any sudden stress and then sits next to me. I move over a bit more. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong, but I’m scared to be close to him. I’m scared to be close to anyone. Just him knowing what happened in here is terrifying to me. What if this gets me in trouble? What if it leads back to Snow?

“How…how are you doing?” I huff out a laugh. Like the audacity of the question makes it humorous.

“Fucking fantastic.” I then turn to look at and I know he sees the anger in my face. His entire demeanor shifts from worry to guilt.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-“

“I know.” I cut him off, “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.” I look back at him and wish he could just read my mind. The words feel too difficult to say. “It’s just…” I hesitate, trying not to start crying. “…they took my girlhood…that was mine. No one is supposed to just take that from you. But they snatched it up with no remorse. I thought that I’d get to go home. That when I won, I’d get to go home and be with my mom and live my life. I knew I’d still have to relive the pain again every year when mentoring. I knew I would have guilt and nightmares and all of these horrible memories, but I’d at least be home. But I can never go back home. I am trapped in this hell forever.” I no longer try to stop my tears from falling. My shoulders ache from me grasping on for dear life. It’s all too much and I hate it.

“Silk” he tries to calm me. He tries to move my arms.

“Don’t touch me.” I snap at him. I don’t mean to, it just comes out and he immediately withdraws himself.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. Just, please, you’re hurting yourself.” I shakily remove my hands from my shoulders and instead mess with the hem of my shirt. I try to tell him I’m sorry, but I can’t speak. I want his comfort but I’m too panicked. My breathing is rapid and he can tell. He shifts just slightly closer, but he’s cautious to not get too close.

“Hey, just look at me. You’re safe. You’re okay, I’m with you. No one else is coming through that door. Just keep looking at me and follow my breathing.” He takes deep breaths in and out and I try to follow. It’s shaky, but my breathing calms down. I keep looking at him and try to ground myself. “That’s good. You’re okay, yeah?” He gives me a small, reassuring smile and I nod. I timidly reach out my hand. I want to touch him. To feel that he is real. He reaches back to hold my hand, but not before intently looking at me to get the okay. His thumb rubs my palm at the pace that he was using to calm my breaths. I close my eyes and sigh deeply. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

I nod and stand up, still holding his hand. His other hand is ready to help if I stumble. When we walk into the bathroom he lets out a small laugh.

“Oh, yeah...I broke the mirror.”

“I can see that. Good work.” He looks at me and smiles. He inspects to counter to make sure there’s no leftover glass, and then helps me up to sit. He grabs two washcloths, one for my face and one for my arms, and runs them under warm water. He hands one to me and I start cleaning up as much of the makeup and dried tears as I can while he tends to my shoulders. The focus that Finnick puts into cleaning my small cuts is so caring and gentle. I can’t help but look at him. He looks so concentrated and beautiful. Like he was carved out of marble, and then I see his dimples forming from the smirk he’s giving me.

“Like what you see?” I roll my eyes and turn my face away from his.

“You’re annoying” His face looks dramatically hurt and shocked.

“You’ve wounded me. I’m heartbroken.” I can’t help my lips from twitching. “There’s that smile, pretty girl.” I turn my head back to face him and sigh. He is so unusual to me. There is so much more to him than what meets the eye. His cockiness and flirtatious spirit is just one of playful banter. It’s not who he truly is. It’s his cover for the Capitolite, but besides that it’s just to amuse. To lighten the mood. The real Finnick is much more complicated and I’m so compelled to uncover his true character.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me.” He rolls his eyes.

“Why do you keep asking me that?” He laughs lightly and I shrug.

“I just don’t understand. You just met me yet you keep being so kind to me. You keep going out of your way and there is nothing to gain.” He sighs and looks down at the washcloth in his hand.

“Remember when you helped that kid in the arena? That girl from 2 got his leg pretty good with a spear and you could’ve just left him there. Let someone else find him. But you helped him up, led him to a place where he could hide, and tried your best to clean up his wound. You even gave him some of your food before you left. You didn’t know him. You had nothing to gain from that, but you did it anyway.” I remember him. He was so small. I didn’t want to help him, I wanted to ignore everything around me. I wanted to shut off my emotions, but he was just a little boy. He didn’t deserve to be left in mud, waiting for someone to kill him. And I knew that if I saw his picture at night, it would’ve been my fault. That wouldn’t have been survival. That would’ve been inhumane.

“He was from 4. He was yours.”

“Yeah..he was a good kid. You didn’t treat him like a tribute you had to kill, you treated him like a person. He was able to survive longer because of you. Your kindness, it meant something to me.” I look down at my hands. I don’t even know if that was kindness. I did it to save myself from the guilt. But, I guess sometimes that’s what kindness is. Maybe that’s why Finnick is here tonight.

“I guess I’ve been having a hard time trusting people’s motives.”

“For good reason.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Come on pretty girl, let’s run you a hot shower.” He holds my hand as I hop off the counter and then goes to start the water. He holds his hand under it to feel for the perfect temperature. He decides everything is ready and steps towards the door. At first, him caring for me made me feel a bit uneasy, but I guess it’s not too much. It is better than doing this all alone.

“Alright, I’ll be just outside if that’s okay. I don’t have to stay, though.” His sweet green eyes look into mine. I can tell he wants to, like he wants to protect me.

“You can. I think..that’d be nice.”

The warm water washes over me and I run my hands through my hair. I wish I could easily scrub away the events of today. The most I can do is scrub away the feeling of disgust. I guess this is supposed to be my future routine. Every few months I go up to the Capitol for a day or two, go through hell, then go home. I’m sure that’s how they think of it. So simple. I can easily get over it. How is someone supposed to get over having their body taken advantage of? They’re not, but I’m not thought of an actual person here. Just a toy.

This is happening to Finnick too. He said he knew what happened. He knew how to calm me and what to do to help. This is all so hard to come to terms with. Finnick won three years ago at just fourteen. Did Snow make him start immediately, like me? If so, he’s been doing this for so long already. All on his own. No one to soothe him after the torture. How is he still standing? Has he become numb to it? That thought doesn’t make it any better.

From how I have felt tonight, I cannot imagine what Finnick felt his first night. Fourteen years old and left to suffer in silence. I can only hope that they weren’t so horrible to him that young.

I could have stayed in that shower for hours and still wouldn’t have felt completely clean. I dry myself off and I’m relieved I can barely see what I look like because of the broken mirror. I don’t know how I’d feel seeing myself naked right now, but I know it wouldn’t be positive. It’d probably set me off again.

When I’m finished getting dressed I walk back into the bedroom. I see Finnick waiting patiently on the loveseat and he smiles when he sees me. He has such a beautiful smile. His dimples and the creases near his eyes make him look so warm and inviting. I sit on the opposite side of the couch, keeping some space between us. I think I’m beginning to trust him, but he still makes me nervous. That feeling I don’t quite understand. It’s not necessarily negative, it’s just…different.

“Feeling a bit better?” I nod and wrap my arms around my legs, giving myself a sense of security. The worst of the night is over, but it’s hard to feel at ease.

“I think so. Thank you, by the way. For being here and being patient.”

“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl.”

“Maybe, but I want to. Your kindness means something to me.” I smile softly and he looks down at his hands, blushing slightly. I feel like I can see him more clearly. Like I’ve uncovered a portion of his mystery. So much has happened to him tonight too, but I haven’t seen him upset. Like he holds it in. Like he wants to care for everyone else first.

“Finnick?” He hums in response immediately. Ready to help in any way I’d need, but I don’t need anything from him right now. I just want him to know I would do for him what he has done for me. “How are you feeling?” He shakes his head, brushing me off.

“I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me.” He smiles, but I know this one isn’t as genuine. He is hiding his pain and my heart aches for him.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, but just like you have worried over me, I am going to worry over you.” He turns his head to the side, looking out the window at the city below us. He stays that way for a minute and I give him his time.

“They were quick with you. They didn’t give you any time to settle. They didn’t start immediately with me. At least not like this. They gave me the illusion of peace. I would come to Capitol parties every few months or so. Get dragged around by different women, but just to talk. Every now and then someone would touch my arms or my chest while flirting, but that was it. When I turned fifteen, things started to slowly escalate. It was secretive, but I’d be taken to backrooms for quick sessions. Nothing below the belt, but then I turned sixteen.” He takes a breath, somewhat shaky. He still isn’t looking at me, but I haven’t taken my eyes off of him. “Nothing was off the table. They could do whatever they wanted and I had to go along with it. And Snow would make sure of it.” I look at him sadly. I know how he was threatened. How he didn’t actually have a choice. He takes another deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. He’s looking at me now. His eyes are just slightly red. Like he is holding back tears that he refuses to let fall. “Every time I go back home I spend the entire day at the beach. I ignore everyone else and just swim as if I could swim away from this. It’s the only place I can let go. To try and distract myself from what happens here.”

“Tell me about it. The beach, the water.” He tilts his head, but I see his lip twitch slightly. It’s like just the thought of the ocean can bring him some ease. “There’s a place just past the border in 8 that I go to get away from everything. There’s a very small, rocky beach, but the water is too polluted from the factories. All I can do is listen to the waves, but it’s my favorite thing to do. Ever since I found that spot I wanted to know what a real ocean is like. How the water feels on your skin. What it sounds like washing up against sand.” He looks into my eyes and smiles, no longer trying to suppress it.

“It’s my favorite place in the world. Every morning that I can, I start by running to the beach and immediately jumping in the water. It’s so cold when it’s early, the sun is barely even up, but it’s breathtaking. You feel the coolness against your skin, flowing with you as you move. You can taste the salt in the air when you go above to breathe. It’s a feeling of freedom that you can’t feel anywhere else. When the breeze hits your body as you get out of the water. It’s unlike anything you could imagine. It’s hypnotizing.” He looks so captivated by his thoughts. Like he’s been taken to another world. I don’t know if I have anything like that. Something that can bring me so much peace and happiness.

“I hope I can experience that someday” Now it’s me turning to look outside. The hope that I feel is so strong. The hope that one day things can be good. That this world will no longer be suffocating and terrifying.

“Maybe one day you can.” I turn back to him and he’s looking into my eyes so earnestly. There’s a warmth that I feel from him. He thinks the same thing that I do. That strong feeling of hope is what can keep us going.

I keep trying not to fall asleep, but my eyelids have become so heavy. Thankfully, my conversations with Finnick have distracted me enough that I can feel somewhat relaxed. But I can’t get back in that bed. I can’t sleep there.

“I’ll grab some blankets.” He gets up to start turning the loveseat into my bed for the night.

“I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to sleep. I’m sure the second I’m alone with my thoughts I’ll be too anxious to.” I let out a nervous laugh.

“I can stay if that’d be okay. If it would help.” I watch him walk back over to me. The moonlight from outside glows on his tan skin as he stands near me. His golden blonde waves have gotten messier throughout the night, but he still looks perfect.

“You don’t have to do that. I mean, where would you sleep? Unless you’re okay with the bed.”

“I’m fine on the floor. And then, if you need anything…I’m right there.” He says that so casually as puts the blanket over the cushions, but I can see the slight tint of pink sneaking up on his cheeks. I can feel my face heating up as well.

“You can’t sleep on the floor, Finnick.” I help tuck the blanket into one corner.

“Sure I can. I’ve slept on worse.” He shrugs. He’s not wrong and I can say the same, but still. Am I even sure I want him to stay? My thoughts are quick to say yes, the night with him has been lovely, but what if that got back to Snow? Does that actually matter? I was never told I couldn’t develop a friendship with other victors. However, something tells me that whatever happiness I find here will be stolen away from me.

“It’s up to you. If you’re fine with the floor I’m fine with you staying.” He grins so sweetly. I can tell he doesn’t want to be alone either.

I lay on the loveseat, facing Finnick as he lays on the floor. We both talk about home, learning about each other’s district as we grow more and more tired. When I finally fall asleep, my arm is draped over the cushion and I swear I can feel the touch of Finnick’s fingers lightly on mine. As if he’s reaching up to tell me he’s not going anywhere. His protective touch saves me from any nightmares that dare to enter my mind.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Thank you so much for reading! You all were so nice with my first chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one :) As always I am open to kind feedback. Also let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next chapter!! <3

Tag list <3 (I again tagged some people who liked the related posts. Hope that’s okay!!)

@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler @gremlin515 @bruuhky @0ceanautical @princessofyourmom @babypaperwitch @readawaythereality2

Next Chapter!

#finnick odair #finnick o’dair #finnick fanfic #finnick x oc #Finnick O’dair x oc #original character #oc fanfiction #thg finnick #thg oc #catching fire #hunger games #mockingjay #thg fanfiction #thg series #hunger games finnick #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick x you #the hunger games #finnick imagine #I Won’t Let You Sink #IWLYS #finnick x y/n #thg fic #fanfiction #president snow #thg #thg x reader

[kentaroranda]

THE GILDED AGE ⋆ classical painting symbolism

taglist: @kendelias @chlobenet @bravelittleflower @eddiemunscns  @purpleyearning @eddysocs @heavenlysurf @arrthurpendragon @villanele @nolanhollogay @stanshollaand @lovehermioneforever @raith-way @kiara-carrera @decennia @luucypevensie @waterloou @carmens-garden @hiddenqveendom @foxesandmagic @jvstjewels @dragonsbone  @endless-oc-creations @ginevrastilinski @sunlitscribe @dyhlanobrien @partiallypearl @witchofinterest @fleetwoodmcs @daughter-of-melpomene

#ocappreciation #ocapp #queerocs #thg oc #my edits #ch: julius #ch: julius alexander #ch: fletcher #ch: fletcher hunt #so... did u guys know my masters degree comes with a course in art history #all of these will become chapter headers for the relevant chapters btw

[egglantine23]

Here’s Willow the eldest of the toast babies!

#the hunger games fanart #the hunger games #toastbabies #everlark kids #everlark #hunger games #thg fanart #thg oc

[romerona]

The Worm

Surviving the game and losing yourself in the way.

"Don't go underestimating the power of a small force, it may be the only thing that can slip through the cracks."

ROSEMARY BLACK X OC!SNOWMALE.

ROSEMARY BLACK X PRIMROSE EVERDEEN.

"Rosemary Black, district 10, the youngest ever victor in the Hunger Games. Don't let her age fool you, she a force to be reckoned with, known for her cunning wit and speed she managed to-"

"I remember her… I found it hard to believe it then and still find it hard to believe it now."

"Well, then you know that with the right motivation, she's unstoppable."

Rosemary Black × OC!SnowMale? // Primrose Everdeen?

A/N: There would be a few inaccuracies but please, remember this is a fanfic. I'm unsure If I will match Rose with anyone yet but I'll think about it as the story goes.

Masterlist.

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[THE SCORE]

Rose was scolded by practically everyone in her ‘team’ for getting into the bad side of the careers in her very first day. From Allen, who she was sure had almost giving up on her, to freaking Lennox, who decided she had condemned Eugene (which to be fair she kind of did) to a horrible death. Before she could even explain herself she was STRONGLY advised to steer clear of careers for the remaining of the training days.

Rose was already planning on doing that, the second Blaze Rafferty dangle her from her shirt, Rose knew she had to stay as far away from him as she possibly could.

That would prove to be a challenge, however, for the next day, while trying her best to stay away and picking up a few skills like archery ( to which she’s more than pleased to know she’s decent at it) or spears (too heavy for her to hurt someone let alone kill) she could feel the heated gaze of the careers, it was burning her back and settling a deep hole in her bowls.

They made her beyond nervous.

But it wasn't until lunch when Rose heard Blaze and Xury speak with District 4 tributes, which after 1 and 2 were the biggest threat for the other 18 tributes, that if either Blaze or Xury didn’t kill the worm, (as they had nicknamed her) in the bloodbath, the first one to do so will be able to join their alliance. That made Rose feel terrified.

They were loud enough for every other tribute to hear, of course, Rose knows it was on purpose. It was an open invitation, a challenge, yet another game, for the others to join.

After that, she was in autopilot after that and refused to looked at anyone she simple and almost in daze continued her archery practice while Blaze’s words repeated in her mind over and over that not even Eugene, who tried his best to keep her mind of off it, could make her heart to stop terrorizing the inside of her chest.

That night Rose escaped to the rooftop of the building, because where else could she go? She felt suffocated in her disgustingly luxurious room.

Leaning against the railing, ignoring the view of the capitol and the chilling breeze that came form within the mountains, Rose took a shaky breath, then another and another but no matter how much she breathed nothing seemed to be making it to her lungs.

It seems that whatever courage she had excited her body.

‘I won’t accept the fate they all believe I’ll have’

‘but I refuse to leave the Games in whatever form that is without trying my best.’

‘I promise I’ll make it.’

It was all a load of bullshit, wasn’t it? She’ll never make it. Allen was right she’s going to die in the arena, and she’ll never get any sponsors or make people like her, she a lost case they all know that, and until now she refused to believe it because she’s so optimistically blind, she stubborn and so fucking stupid.

What was she thinking when she convinced Allen that she could handle this? She can’t, he was right and now she has the burden to live up to her stupid stupid deal.

So fucking stupid.

Her brother, her father, her grandfather… she can only hope they forgive her for not making it back to them, for not keeping her promise. She hopes they live a happy life, she hopes that Finn finds someone who will make him happy, she hopes her father doesn’t beat himself up, and she hopes her grandfather lives the rest of his life healthy. And her friends, Harper and Chet, she hope they end up marrying each other and living a happy life or as happy as this life can offer.

Rose will miss dancing in Buckaroo's Bar, she will miss singing with her father, she’ll miss the heat of the day, she’ll miss the sun, she’ll miss the stream near her house, she’ll miss… Rod.

‘I promise I’ll make it.’

It was all a load of bullshit, wasn’t it? She’ll never make it. Allen was right she’s going to die in the arena, she’ll never get any sponsors or make people like her, she a lost case they all know that, and until now she refused to believed it because she’s so optimistically blind, she stubborn and so fucking stupid.

What was she thinking when she convinced Allen that she could handle this? She can’t, he was right and now she has the burden to live up to her stupid stupid deal.

So fucking stupid.

Her brother, her father, her grandfather… she can only hope they forgive her for not making it back to them, for not keeping her promise. She hopes they live a happy life, she hopes that Finn finds someone that will make him happy, she hopes her father don’t beat himself up, she hopes her grandfather lives the rest of his life healthy. And her friends, Harper and Chet, she hopes they end up marrying each other and live a happy life or as happy as this life is able to offer.

Rose will miss dancing in Buckaroo's Bar, she will miss singing with her father, she’ll miss the heat of the day, she’ll miss the sun, she’ll miss the stream near her house, she’ll miss… Rod.

Suddenly, Rose felt something nudge her foot forcing her to look up at the perpetrator, it was a woman, she’d seen before, the spiky brown hair and wide-set brown eyes was too familiar. “Get up, kid.”

The woman said, nudging her again with her heel. Was she a tribute? No, she couldn’t be, not dressed like that, surely. Not with the bottle of a crimson liquid in her hand. Not with the bored eyes she stared at Rose with. And she hasn't seen the woman at the training center either.

“Why?” Rose mumbled, only realizing that she had somehow ended up on the floor and hugging her knees for dear life.

“Because it’s pathetic.” The girl took a swing out of her bottle turning to look at the view. “And the only place I can relax in this goddamned place is here and you’re ruining it, so up.”

Rose couldn’t but scowl at the woman, “Who are you and why should I care about you want?”

That made the girl turn to her. She leans down a little to stare down at Rose. “I think the question is why are you here crying like a baby for?”

“What do you mean—“

“Wake up, kid.” The girl snaps at her, “Tears are not going to help with anything. Stop whining, will you?”

"Go fuck yourself," Rose swiftly wipes away her tears, glaring up at the girl.

The mysterious woman raised an eyebrow at Rose's sudden defiance.

"Well, look at that. A backbone," she remarked, taking another casual sip from her bottle. "But let me tell you something, kid. Nobody cares. In here, it's every person for themselves. You cry, you die. Simple as that."

A wave of bitterness washed over Rose as she processed the harsh reality laid out before her. She hesitated for a moment, then defiantly retorted, "If it's every person for themselves, why bother helping me up?"

The woman's eyes flickered with a mix of annoyance and amusement. "I didn't say I'm helping you. I said you're ruining my spot. There's a difference."

"Whatever," Rolling her eyes, Rose braced herself as she stood up. "Even if I stop crying I'm dead anyway, why does it matter?"

"Don't tap out so quickly, kid. Your chances might be better than you think inside the arena,"

"Right, because kids my age usually make it out," Rose scoffs a bitter laugh.

"Well, that is true," The woman shrugs and moves to lean against the railing looking down at the street, "But at least most of them go down fighting and not whining,"

"They probably did," Rose mumbled under her breath, crossing her arms as she felt the cold of the mountains.

"Whatever kid, if you want to go and die in the arena be my guess, I don't give a shit," The woman took another sign of her bottle before muttering, "And If I'm honest, I think death is better than this shit,"

Rose frowns, hugging herself tighter, she regards the back of the woman's head, she is so familiar but Rosemary can't pinpoint from where.

"What do you mean?"

The girl glances back at her, and she sighs looking back at the view, "Nothing. Just leave already if you're going to keep whining."

Rose stood there for a moment looking at the view of the Capitol skyscrapers. The air was cold but fresh, far too different from the dry wind of her district. Her district. They will see her in a few days fighting in the arena, they are counting on her, on Eugene. Eugene, her partner, he has been so supportive these past few days, he's been training, fighting against the odds to help them when they were in the arena... and what is she doing? crying. The girl is right, that's pathetic. Imagine how disappointed would be her family if she went down without a fight.

Rose can't disappoint them like that neither can she disappoint Eugene, he has been giving his all so she should too if not for her at least for him, for her district, and for her family.

"Thank you," Rose mumbles lowly, just enough for the girl to hear. She isn't all aware of why she's thanking her but it feels right.

Without waiting for her response (which Rose thinks won't come anyway) she made her way back inside with a newfound determination.

No more crying, no more whining, no more feeling bad for herself. The future ain't written in stone.

The next day rolled around, the last day of group training. Rose decided that she would try hand-to-hand combat, after all, her skill with knives works better when close to the victim.

Rose stood in the training center, surrounded by the faint hum of activity as tributes prepared for the imminent Games.

The trainer demonstrated a few basic moves, showing her how to break free from a rear chokehold. He emphasized the importance of swift reactions and using her body's natural leverage.

"Remember, it's about using their momentum against them," the trainer explained. "Now, you give it a try."

Rose squared her shoulders, mentally preparing herself. The trainer approached from behind, mimicking a potential threat. In a split second, Rose executed the techniques she had just learned, twisting her body and breaking free from the hold.

"You're a fast learner, good," the trainer praised.

Rose grins at him, "Yeah, well, when your life's at stake, you tend to become one,"

The trainer huffs a laugh, "Okay, now, let's say someone comes at you with a frontal grab. You want to create distance and be ready to react. Keep your hands up, elbows close to your body, and stay light on your feet."

They continued the session, with the trainer guiding Rose through various scenarios. In the short hours, she learned to deflect grabs, escape from holds, and use her body to create openings to attack.

Each move is a step closer to survival.

As the sessions continued, there were times when Rose failed to execute a manoeuvre or became momentarily disoriented, but she refused to let the setbacks define her.

The trainer observed her progress and noted, "You won't get it right every time, Rose. What matters is your ability to get back up and keep going. Adaptability is the key to survival."

During surprise attack simulations, there were instances where Rose found herself momentarily overwhelmed. Yet, no matter how many times she hit the mat, she rose again, determination burning in her eyes.

With each fall, Rose learned. She absorbed the lessons of her mistakes, and despite the setbacks, Rosemary persevered.

Soon after lunch, they were calling the districts, one by one in order. District 1 is first the dumbass of Blaze and then Xury. Then goes District 2, Devon and then Aria and then 3 then 4 and so on until it was their turn.

"Eugene Dion," the voice called making Rose nervous fidgeting to stop. She felt Eugene squeeze her interlaced hand.

"Good luck, make them remember you" Rose mumbled squeezing back.

Eugene nods, and he sends her a smile. It was as if she was nervous for both of them. "Right back at you, Rosie,"

With that, they let go of each other and Rose watched him walk through the doors. Her nervous fidgeting came back as she waited for her name to be called; she tapped her feet, crossed and uncrossed her legs, drummed her fingers, and played with her hair that somehow Pearl had managed to put in a bun.

Another minute ticks by and she looks at the back door thinking of Eugene. Rose has no idea what his skill is, all she knows is that he is good at milking cows which means he has a good grip right? He might been able to learn something like climbing or something, hell, maybe he even learned how to use an axe or--

"Rosemary Black,"

Her heart did a summersault. Rose took a deep, shaky breath before standing up and with all the confidence she managed to gather, Rose walked through the doors.

The Gamemakers, all sat on their platform, some talking amongst each other, others drinking wine, others eating and very few looking at her, paying attention.

Shit. Okay. Okay, It's cool.

The cold metal of the training weapons gleamed under the artificial lights. Determination etched across her face, Rose decided to focus on close combat. She approached the weapons rack and selected a set of knives. The weight felt familiar in her hands, a comfort amid the impending chaos.

Summoning her courage, Rose decided to address the indifferent Gamemakers. "Hey, ya'll!" she called out, her voice carrying a playful twang that turned a few heads. Rose flashed a radiant smile, acknowledging those who bothered to look her way.

"I reckon I'm interrupting some important business here, but I promise it's worth the while," she continued her facade, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

A few Gamemakers exchanged glances, curiosity piqued by Rose's unexpected interruption. She seized the moment, more confident in her ability to make an impression even if it was just shit-talking her way out or rather up the ranks.

With a sly grin, Rose twirled her knife with flair. "Now, I know you've seen tributes before, but trust me, you haven't seen one like me." She struck a pose, emphasizing her point with a touch of sass.

With knives in hand, Rose moved to a designated training area, an open space where combat simulations could be enacted. She eyed the target dummies lined up, their fabric surfaces waiting to be pierced by her blades.

As she moved into her lively demonstration, Rosemary infused it with a comical touch. The rhythmic sounds of the knife striking the training dummies were accompanied by a playful commentary.

"I call this move the 'Dodgin' Districts.' It's a real crowd-pleaser."

The Gamemakers, initially surprised, found themselves chuckling and exchanging amused glances. Rose's charismatic, talking her way up, approach is working.

She continued her demonstration, her strikes were deliberate, aimed at vital points while mixing dance-like footwork with quick jabs at the training dummies.

Rose finally stopped, catching her breath, and gave a mock bow. "Well, what do ya think, folks? Ain't that a sight for sore eyes?"

With a final wink, Rose exited the stage she had created, leaving the Gamemakers amused and hopefully thoroughly charmed. Rose had successfully showcased her close combat skills with a knife while infusing the moment with her 'charm' good or bad as it may be, Rose was sure she would be memorable.

-----

"How did it go?" asks Caine the second she steps into the District 10 suit.

Rosemary glances at the familiar and expecting faces of Allen and Eugene before looking back at Caine. "I.. think it was okay,"

"Okay?Okay?" Caine huffs, "Just an okay?"

"We want to know what you did, kid," Allen spoke from his place on the sofa.

Rose moves to the sitting room, "I don't know I showed them that I can use a knife and sort of talk to them through it,"

"Talk them through it?" Caine asks slightly scandalize.

"I made them give me their attention," Rose turns to Allen who was regarded with curiosity, " A character, right? Charming them up and whatnot,"

"That only works with the audience, kid,"

"Maybe it'll work with them too," Rose looks at Eugene while sliding down next to him."What about you?"

"I didn't have much to show them but I climbed and built some shelters," Eugene shrugs looking away, he purses his lips "I don't think I'll get a good score, I mean they didn't even look at me,"

"I'm sure it'll be okay, Gene," Rose tells him, with a reassuring smile.

Allen spoke again, "Sometimes it's better to get a low score. Keeps the targets off your back, y'know."

Pearl and Lennox arrived just before dinner, both stylists asking the same questions about their private session. This time around Rose decided to keep the details to herself.

After dinner, Pearl sat beside her on the sofa as the team waited for Ceasar to announce the scores on her other side was Eugene. The team was chatting among themselves waiting for the show to start, meanwhile Rose was drumming her fingers nervously on her tight.

She hears the music of the intro of the show and everyone quiets down, compulsively she reaches for Eugene's hand, and she feels him squeeze it but at the moment she is more focused on the television.

They showed a picture of Blaze Rafferty on the screen and below it, his score, which of course, was a 10 because her life couldn't be easy. the same with the rest of the Districts. The careers got the usual high score, the lowest being the boy from 4 with an eight. Then the rest of the tribute's scores were average.

And after some minutes it came theirs.

Rose's stomach churned as the television focused on Eugene's image. She felt the squeeze of his hand, a shared moment of solidarity. A five appeared beneath his picture, and a murmur of encouragement spread through the room.

"That's an okay score," Caine offered reassuringly. "It's the half of the punctuation, not so bad."

Eugene nodded but remained quiet, disappointment lingering in his eyes. Rose shot him an encouraging smile, silently communicating that they could overcome this together. The arena was where they'd truly prove themselves.

Then, it was her turn. The camera shifted to Rose's image, and she held her breath, bracing for impact. To her surprise, a seven flashed beneath her picture. A wave of relief swept over her, and a triumphant smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

The tension in the room gradually lifted as Rose's seven was announced. The weight on her shoulders seemed to ease, and she allowed herself a moment to bask in the relief. Glancing at Eugene, she saw a subtle smile breaking through his disappointment. It was a moment of shared triumph amidst the pressure of the Capitol's judgment.

Caine, the team mentor, grinned approvingly. "A seven! That's a solid score, Rose."

Allen, ever the pragmatic strategist, nodded in agreement. "He's right. We can work with that."

The team, though not entirely satisfied, began to see the silver lining. The scores were decent, and the anticipation of the upcoming challenges fueled their determination.

As the broadcast continued, showcasing the tributes from other districts, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The initial disappointment transformed into a quiet resolve.

Rose squeezed Eugene's hand again, this time with a hint of pride. "We got this, Gene," she whispered.

The redhead took a breath turned to face Rose and nods, "We do,"

The room buzzed with subdued conversations and strategy discussions for the upcoming interview with Caesar Flickerman. This would be their very last chance to secure sponsors and stand out in the eyes of the Capitol audience.

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