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lvstcd · 5 months

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no time to die ⟶ finnick odair & oc [part 1]

A/N: this is for my pookie ookie bear rese <;3 happy birthday bbg

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of sex trafficking, weapons, trauma, smoking, pretty much all hunger games shit :)

SUMMARY: rhys marley was the youngest victor of hunger games, winning at the age of 12. 9 years later, she watches as her little cousin from district 12 tours around panem, a rebellion starting, and soon, chaos as the quarter quell comes to its beginning.

GENRE: angst, dystopian, fluff, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

oc - original character(s)

EDITED BUT THERE COULD STILL BE MISTAKES :0

lower case intended

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RHYS marley. the youngest victor of the hunger games. she won at the ripe age of twelve years old. nine years later, at the age of twenty-one years old, she sat in the victor village of district four, watching her little cousin from district twleve, zephyr marley, tour around panem with her fellow victor and lover, peeta mellark. she chews on a granola bar, watching intently, her long platinum blonde here tangled and thrown into a low messy bun as she had her black boyfriend framed glasses resting gently on the bridge of her nose, sliding down every couple of minutes, causing her to push them back up. she watched her cousin plaster on a fake smile as she read the words from the card that was given to her, some of the people in the districts yelling in anger and confusion.

she turns the tv down as she hears giggling outside of her mansion, the voices of finnick odair and annie cresta being heard. she stands up, walking over to her window and peaks out from behind the curtain, watching the pair laugh as they're wrapped up in each others arms. she steps away from the window, shuffling off to her bedroom, laying on her bed and staring at the wall, the sounds of birds chirping and wind banging against her window.

flashback

"finnick!" rhys yells, tears brimming her eyes as she watches her best-friend get reaped for the hunger games, her heart dropping to her stomach. she watches the reaping from outside, as she was only eleven years old, and not old enough to be reaped. her mother brushes her hair, holding her against her body tightly, "rhys, please." her mother whispers, tearing up as finnicks mother sobs next to them, gripping onto his fathers arm. rhys watches him get dragged inside the building while watching the other kids of district four leave, hugging their family and friends, grateful it wasn't them.

rhys looks at finnicks mother, sobbing, "please tell him to be careful. tell him to survive. he needs to survive." tears are streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably, her heart breaking inside of her chest.

weeks later, finnick arrives home, winning the hunger games. rhys waits outside of her house, fiddling with the hem of her skirt as she waits for finnick to arrive home. she stares at the ground, waiting, when she hears her name being called. looking up, she sees her bestfriend, his eyes scared and tired as he jogs towards her, his arms wide open. rhys stands up, "finnick!" she cries, running towards him and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, sobbing into his chest. "you did it." she whispers into him, hearing him sniffle above her. "i did." he whispers back, hugging her tightly.

rhys blinks, zoning back into reality as she realizes it's past dusk. standing up, she grabs her bathroom essentials and walks to the bathroom, turning on the water to scalding hot and climbing in, letting the water beat against her skin, turning her red. "rhys?" her mother calls from outside the door, "are you in the shower?" she asks, listening in. rhys hums, "yes, mother. i just got in. do you need something?" she asks softly, rubbing her hands over her face. her mother tells her no and walks away, her footsteps gradually getting quieter on the other side of the door.

rhys finishes her shower, stepping out and wrapping the towel around her body. she dries her hair and brushes it, the platinum blonde strands hanging down to her lower back. she wipes the mirror off with her arm, looking at her reflection in the mirror, her baby blue eyes staring right back at her as she tries to recognize herself, the old image of herself no where to be found. she changes into pajamas and walks out of the bathroom and into her room, climbing into her bed and staring at the ceiling. eventually, her eyes close as she drifts asleep, the sound of crickets buzzing outside of her window.

flashback

"the female tribute of district four.." silence, no one dares to speak. "rhys marley." rhys' eyes widen as she looks around her, her heart sinking to her stomach as everyones eyes turn to her, watching her slowly make her way up the stairs and stand in front of everyone. she watches finnick from afar, his eyes widened and scared as he shakes.

rhys waits in the room, looking out the window as her family walks in, rushing to hug her as they let out a few tears. "you can do this, baby. i believe in you. do whatever it takes to survive." her mother whispers, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her head as she brushes a few strands of rhys' hair out of her face, her thumbs caressing her cheeks. "mom." she whispers softly, "i love you. if i don't make it out of there, please tell finnick he's the bestest friend i ever had. please. dont forget me." her mother nods, letting out a sob as she grips onto her tightly, brushing her hair.

a couple weeks later, rhys arrives back home, her eyes widened and tired, the images of peoples bodies, blood, and chaos forever burned and engraved into her mind. she slowly walks into victors village, her mother running to her, sobbing and immediately wrapping her arms around her daughter, grateful she's alive. finnick runs out of his mansion, "rhys!" he yells, running as fast as he can to her, instantly wrapping his arms around her as he sheds a tear. "thank god." he whispers into her hair, holding onto her tightly as she silently stands there, emotionless and exhausted, her innocence forever destroyed.

rhys sits up, sweating and out of breath as another nightmare fogged her brain. she gasps for air, her eyes wide as she panics and looks around her dark room, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. her mother shuffles in, rubbing her eyes. "you okay, baby?" her mother asks her quietly, climbing into bed with her. "it's okay, mama. i'm okay. just another nightmare." rhys whispers, rubbing her eyes and wiping the couple tears off of her cheeks. her mother ignores her, lying down next to her under the covers, wrapping her arms around rhys' body and brushing her hair. "it's okay, baby. i'm here. get some sleep." her mother whispers into her hair, humming softly as rhys nods and lays down, feeling at ease with her mothers presence. "thank you." rhys whispers, her eyes closing as she listens to her mothers peaceful humming, falling back asleep.

a few days later, rhys sits in the living room, her legs crossed and her hair thrown into a pony tail as she watches the tv, waiting for the news about the quarter quell, her mother and her father sitting beside her, watching as well. she watches president snow come up on the screen, her eyebrows furrowing as she stares at him, her hands shaking in anger.

"the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district."

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itsajollyjester · 3 months

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District 4 victors I've come up with

#They have taken over a small part of my brain and it might take a while for me to get it back #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #thg series #digital art #hunger games fanart #artists on tumblr #fanart #clip studio paint #digital artist #district 4 #hunger games oc #fan oc #fan character #jolly art

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whimsicalangst · 4 months

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*. :｡ if I was in the hunger games ｡: . *

☆ the new hunger games movie has reallly had my middle school self shaking in her converse- also decided to choose district 7 as my district bc I like to believe that Johanna and I would be besties ☆

also don’t mind the glitter, it gets everywhere when you’re around Caesar 🫶🏻

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call-sign-shark · 1 month

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Heaven Lavey • District 7 • Victor of the 72nd Hunger Games. • 12 kills

Words: 389 (alteration of canon events)

Heaven is Reader in the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes.

It is when she’s sitting next to Caesar Flickerman and his awful wig that Heaven longs for the quietness of District 7’s woods. All the shows they put on for these ridiculous and cruel games are already starting to drive her crazy. During a brief moment, she loses herself in the meanders of her mind, fantasizing about strangling the show’s host with his own studded belt just there, in front of the camera. How exquisite it would be to hear them all scream in horror!

“Your name is Heaven Lavey, right? An unusual name for an unusual girl.” The man laughs, showcasing his shining and perfect denture with teeth as big as a horse's even though what he said isn’t even a joke, . Interestingly enough, he is so botoxed and his face so lifted that not one single wrinkle appears on his forehead. He must have spent an awful amount of money, all of this to look like an ugly Ken doll. What a pity. “It suits you well.”

“If you listen to my mentor it doesn’t. According to her, my parents should have called me Hell instead.” Caesar goes for a theatrical "ohhhh" and the crowd roars with laughter — it wasn’t a joke either, and she didn’t even crack a smile while replying. For them it’s all an act, isn’t it? Glitter, gold, and kids’ future and inevitable death.

"So Heaven, you did quite a remarkable entrance during the Tribute Parade with this surprising but outstanding outfit. First time in forty years that District 7 hasn't chosen a tree-inspired style."

"I threatened the stylist with an axe, and so did my mentor. Seems like it worked." Heaven replied with that same cold and sardonic smile that exposed her sharp fangs, similar to Enobaria except for the front teeth.

"It worked, indeed! But making an impression might not be enough, as charming as you are! Do you think you stand a chance?"

"Caesar." The white-haired teen said, "Do you know what my mother used to call me?"

"Tell me." He moves closer to her again, ear near her fleshy lips. An odd silence hangs over the crowd.

"Dangerous." She whispered, her hushed and chilling murmur resounding in the room thanks to her small clip-on mic. "She used to call me dangerous."

tagging those who have the HG brain rot in the Peaky fandoms: @raincoffeeandfandoms @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby and @peakyswritings

#Peaky Blinders #Hunger games AU #Heaven Shelby #Arthur Shelby x OC #Hunger Games #Hunger games oc #the hunger games #Johanna Mason x oc

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redwinetalks · 24 days

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I Won't Let You Sink

Chapter 3

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 5.2k

Pairing: Finnick X Fem!OC

Warnings: slight self harm, angst, fluff , protective Finnick, Finnick is a sap, panic attack, violence/gore, death, hurt/comfort, pre-canon, young Finnick and Silk, Silk AND Finnick pov

Summary: It's the next year of the Hunger Games. Silk is a mentor now and Finnick will not let her go through this alone!!

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~ Silk ~

The old apartment mom and I lived in didn’t have many windows, but that hardly matters when you barely see the sun in the sky. If you live closer to factories, the smog is so thick that you never see the blue in the sky. Victor’s Village is at the edge of town so the air quality is better. There’s still smog, but I can see the sky. The sun doesn’t have to try as hard to come out. It shines in my face and wakes me almost instantly. I’m still getting used to the brightness and the warmth that it brings me, but it feels inviting. It feels familiar. My mouth twitches into a small smile whenever the sun wakes me up. Like a good friend has come to visit and take the darkness away.

I feel the sun’s comfort even on the days I have to leave for the Capitol. It tells me that I’ll be back soon and I won’t lose that warmth. I will find it in Finnick O’dair. Maybe it’s because he himself is always so warm. His hands are warm when he places one on my cheek to ease my anxiety. His chest and his arms are warm when he pulls me into calming hug. His legs are warm when one brushes up again mine as we sit together. Every time I feel Finnick’s warmth I’m reminded of the sun.

We’ve grown closer with each visit to the Capitol. We regularly find each other when one of us is needing a moment to breathe. I think we’ve developed a sense for when it happens. I think Finnick likes it when I look to him for a way out of a dull conversation. He always dramatically whisks me away, playing hero.

Finnick is so much different than the persona he turns on for everyone else. He isn’t arrogant or self centered at all. The real Finnick always wants to focus on how I’m feeling instead of himself. He can get so worked up and always wants to help anyone in need. It took me a bit to grow fully comfortable with his care, to let him in. I’ve never had someone worry over me the way he does.

However, Finnick never wants me to worry over him. He has this idea in his head that he’s supposed to be the caretaker. That his own troubles are irrelevant. It’s like pulling teeth, getting him to be truly vulnerable. I never push too hard as I don’t want to overstep, but I can tell he wants the comfort. It’s almost as if he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. I can only imagine all of the feelings he has shut inside. With each visit I try to open that door a bit more.

I don’t dread my train ride to the Capitol in the same way I used to. I would panic and I could never sleep leading up to my visits. I still feel that gut wrenching anxiety, and I always will, but now I don’t have to go through it alone. I now can give myself assurance that there will be a shoulder I can lean on. There’s someone who can look at me and understand the pain that I feel. I don’t have to see myself in the mirror falling apart when someone will come help me pick up the pieces.

This doesn’t mean that what happens at the Capitol is no longer traumatic. It is still very much so. I will never get used to the pain. The way these people look at me and don’t see a real person. They don’t see a human being that deserves life. They see someone who won their favorite show. A prize that they can play with. They can customize me in almost every way. They pick what I wear, what makeup is put on me, how my hair is done. They give me instructions on how to behave and how to give them their fantasy. They don’t see anything wrong with it and they never will.

“Don’t get lost in there, sweetheart.” Finnick sits next to me on the couch in his room, twirling a piece of my hair.

“How was your shower?” I turn to give him my attention. His blonde hair is still damp and a few wavy strands rest on his forehead.

“Not scalding enough.” he jokes. “Did ya miss me? I’m sure those twenty minutes were quite boring.”

“Nope.” I say, popping the “p”. “Barely even noticed.”

“I’m hurt, sweetheart.” He puts his hand on his chest and gives me a sad, pouty expression.

“So dramatic. One girl turns you down and suddenly your ego is shattered.”

“Only when it’s you, beautiful.” He smirks at me and I can feel the warmth creeping up my face. Finnick is the only person who has ever given me this kind of warmth. It still surprises me every time, this feeling I’ve never felt before.

“You’ll get over it.” I shrug him, and the feeling, off and then turn to look back at the night sky. He laughs to himself and sighs.

“Did you know I’d never seen the stars before coming to the Capitol?” I suddenly say. Finnick faces me with a look of shock.

“What? How is that?” I smile, his surprised expression making me laugh softly.

“I’ve seen them in pictures but, you know how I told you the water at the shore in 8 is polluted?” He nods, now giving me a more focused expression. “Well, the sky is too. The factories cause the air to be polluted as well. There’s this smog that makes the sky look all hazy. During the day I can barely tell that the sky is blue. And at night, I can’t see any stars at all. I didn’t know that they were this beautiful.” I’m still gazing at them. They’re so much brighter than I thought they’d be. Finnick turns to look at them as well.

“They are, but you’re far more beautiful.” He says this so genuinely. I look at him surprised, yet confused. I’m taken aback. It’s not like Finnick hasn’t given me a compliment before. He’s kind and charming. He knows how to make someone feel seen. But this feels different. His tone doesn’t sound flirtatious, like it usually does when he gives a compliment. It’s much sweeter, much softer. He doesn’t give me enough time to dwell on it before he continues speaking. “When I’m home in 4, I sit on the beach and watch the stars almost every night. It’s so peaceful, watching the sun go down and then seeing the moon glow so bright. The sky goes from light blue to a vibrant orange or a soothing purple. And then it turns this dark blue, almost black. The contrast of the night sky and the sparkling stars can be breathtaking. One day, when you visit me, we can stargaze together.”

A pang of jealousy hits me. As much as I love my home, it hasn’t been able to give me these wondrous experiences. The labor that is forced upon us all in Panem affects how we get to experience life. And unfortunately, I didn’t get to grow up in district 4. I didn’t grow up in a district with clear skies. I grew up in a district where being outside for too long can make it difficult to breathe. Sometimes I feel like 8 gets punished the most because of our rebellious nature, but I know that every district struggles with their own hardships caused by the Capitol. It isn’t fair of me to compare us all. I know that I’m just feeling bitter, now more than ever.

“I don’t think I can be too hopeful of that.” He frowns at me. I know that he’s trying to give me something positive to think about, but my mind won’t allow me to dream. “How could I dream of something so wonderful when I know it’ll never happen?” He takes my hand and squeezes tight.

“Come with me.” He gets off the couch and leads me out of the bedroom and onto the balcony. I don’t question what he’s doing. As I get to know Finnick, I learn how he goes to any dramatic lengths to help me feel better. His heart is so big. The fact that he hasn’t lost who he is to the Capitol’s torture makes him one of the strongest people I know.

He ushers me to sit on the ground next to him. When I do, he then lays on his back and I copy him. I look at his eyes. Even at night I swear that they sparkle.

“Look up, pretty girl.” I smile softly at him and then do as he says. “If I can’t yet take you to gaze at the stars in 4, then I’ll take this for now.” He holds my hand and then the few tears that I have been holding in finally let go. The night sky is vast and breathtaking, just like he said. I’ve never just taken a second to look at it like this.

“Thank you” I say in almost a whisper.

“I will always do whatever I can to bring a smile to your face.” He says and twirls a strand of my hair again. I turn back to face him and I’m looking into those sea green eyes. I watch them as they study my face. We both stay like this for a while, still holding hands. I feel a tightness in my chest. It’s like a pull towards Finnick, but I choose to ignore it. I let the moment continue to be just this. Just us looking at each other and feeling like we are the only people in the world. I’ve never felt the way I do now, but I would like this feeling to stay forever. It feels so comforting. I feel safe here. In this little world that is just me and Finnick.

In the middle of the mattress, Finnick’s hand still holds onto mine. This is the first time we’ve fallen asleep right next to each other. He usually sleeps on the floor, going against my protests. But tonight, we lay in the bed. The bed that I used to be so afraid of. It doesn’t feel as scary with Finnick here. He seems to make all of my troubles fade into the back of my mind. I could never thank him enough for keeping me from sinking into that dark abyss. The next time I see him I’ll be a mentor. We won’t be back at the Capitol for parties, we’ll be back for the 69th annual Hunger Games. It is utterly terrifying that I will be the one guiding tributes, but he’s told me how he won’t let me go through it alone. He will be beside me every second he can, and I hope that I can make the year less daunting for him as well.

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The day of the reaping is finally here. The leading up to it felt somehow fast and slow at the same time. Today I get to relive the trauma of being selected by seeing two kids walk to the stage with the same gut wrenching fear that I had. I am terrified for them and terrified that I will let them down. Even if I do my job to the best of my ability, only one will come home. I will still lose one of my own. I don’t know how I’ll be able to get off the train and face everyone when I return home.

District 8 is the sixth largest district. I know mainly just the people who’ve worked in the factories near me or live close to my home. My old home. I’m familiar with some who I see frequently in the heart of the district. Where people sell food or an assortment of clothes and items at their separate stalls. That doesn’t matter so much, though. It’s not better for someone I know or don’t know to be picked. Either way a child is going to die and a family is going to suffer. I don’t know how Cecilia pushes through. Woof, the other victor in 8, isn’t all there. She’s basically on her own. His dementia has caused him to be less and less involved. A part of me is happy for him that he is losing his memories. Maybe he’s losing the worst ones and is actually living peacefully. That’s what I would like to believe.

I wonder how Cecilia feels today. How did she feel when she was mentoring me? How did she feel when Pinn, my district partner, died? How does it feel doing this year after year, especially now that she has children of her own. One day her children will be old enough to be reaped. I can’t even imagine the fear of having to mentor your own child. The thoughts swirling around in my head make me dizzy.

I wince when I realize I’ve been digging my nails into my palm. I haven’t done that in a while. Finnick stops me whenever he notices and the habit has slowly started to break. However, it seems like I’m picking it back up with the additional stress.

“Honey, are you ready?” My mom peaks through my door and looks at me with a sad smile. She holds my sweater over her arm. It’s one that she knit for me during a sleepless night. When I was away for one of my trips to the Capitol. She still doesn’t know the whole reason that I have to go. She tries to get the answer out of me every few weeks, but I never let myself reveal the truth. It’s just meaningless parties that I have to attend as a victor. I know she doesn’t believe me, but for now that’s all I can give her.

“Just about.” I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. I use a scarf to keep the hair out of my face for today. The green details complement the dark purple color of my dress. I wanted to wear some of my favorite colors, thinking they’d somehow make me feel more positive. But nothing about today will be positive.

“You’re going to get through this. You are stronger than they know. You’ll have Cecilia with you. And Finnick when you get to the Capitol.” I nod and mom pulls me in for a hug. She squeezes me tight and kisses my head. “I’ll be in the crowd, but I won’t get to say goodbye before you leave. You’ll be back home in a few weeks. No matter how bad it gets just remember that this time you’re coming home.” She holds my cheek in her hand and rubs her thumb back and forth. I look at her and keep nodding. I’m coming home this time.

Standing beside Cecilia, I watch all the kids fall in line. It’s such a weird feeling, not being part of that line. Not being part of the rows and rows of young girls. I should feel some kind of relief. I no longer have to worry about my name being called, but I still feel that worry. It’s just different. It’s now about who will be called on for me to mentor.

Cecilia must sense the anxiety radiating off of me because she starts to rub my back. I look to her and she gives me a kind smile. She doesn’t have to say anything to me. I know that she’s telling me I’ll be okay. I’ll get through it. After all these years, Cecilia is still standing. She has a loving husband and two beautiful children. Watching her gives me a sense of hope that I could have a happy future. It’s hard to see right now, but maybe one day I’ll eventually be okay.

I shake myself from my thoughts and see they’ve chosen a female tribute. I don’t know her, but she looks to be about 12 years old. Her first year in the reaping and she’s been picked. She’s already crying and the escort, Veridie, is smiling as wide and brightly as possible. I clench my fists. The anger I feel growing inside of me is indescribable.

She glides over to the other bowl to pick the male tribute name. I’m trying not to start hyperventilating. I need to look as calm as possible. I’ve done this before. I didn’t allow myself to react at my own reaping. Why is it so much harder now? Because these kids are going to be looking up to me to survive. The pressure is so heavy. It feels like I’m being pushed into the ground.

My eyes focus on Veridie as she shouts the male tribute’s name and I realize I know this tribute. We went to school together and worked in the same factory. He’s the same age as me, 18. He was so close making it. So close to being free.

The panic is rising in my chest. I can feel tears brimming in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. I feel horrible. I can’t do this. How the fuck am I supposed to do this?

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~ Finnick ~

The train ride to the Capitol was the same as it is every year. The air is tense as I explain the hell my tributes are about to go through. I teach them about getting sponsors and making allies while Mags tries to do some consoling.

I wonder how Silk is doing right now. I wish I was with her right now. I wish I could try to ease her distress. I’m afraid she’ll be more closed off when I finally see her. She doesn’t want to look weak. She doesn’t want for people to be able to read her, but I know how strong she is. How she’s feeling right now doesn’t make her weak. She’s always able to hold herself together when she knows she’s being watched. That takes an enormous amount of strength. I don’t want her to feel like she has to be that strong around me. I don’t want her to close herself back up after I’ve finally helped her relax.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the last night I saw her. She looked so beautiful in the glow of the night sky. With her hand in mine, I felt an electricity shooting up my body. I never wanted to let her go. And when she looked at me. I could have kissed her right there. I wish I had swept her up in my arms, but I don’t know how she feels. I don’t want her to feel comfortable with me now and then ruin it all. Her hand in mine is enough. I never want to let her go.

I still haven’t seen Silk after arriving at the Capitol. The opening ceremony will be happening soon and I’m hoping to catch her. I just need to see how she’s holding up.

Mags keeps teasing me about how I’ve been so distracted. She continues to do so while I’m looking around the carriages. I spot Cecilia, but I’m struggling to find Silk. I stifle a laugh, thinking about how her short stature is probably the reason I don’t see her.

I make my way to Cecilia. If I can’t find Silk I can at least ask about her. As I’m almost to the older mentor, I finally spot her. She looks even more beautiful than the last time I saw her. She’s talking to her female tribute. I see the kindness in her eyes as she tells the girl what to expect. Even though this child is a spectacle to the Capitol, Silk tries to make it sound more magical. She tells the girl how lovely she looks and that being on the carriage feels like gliding through the air.

“Go show everyone out there how strong you are. I’ll be right here when you get back.” She rubs the girls arm and then guides her onto the carriage. When she turns back around she locks eyes with me.

“Finnick” she says with a sweet smile. My heartbeat speeds up a little, her focus now being on me.

“Hello, sweetheart. Want a sugar cube?” Her brow furrows and I let out a breath of a laugh. “They’re for the horses, but I think you deserve a treat just as sweet as you.” She rolls her eyes, as she usually does when I flirt with her, but then takes it. She pops it into her mouth and I can’t help but look at her lips. I bet they taste just as sweet as that sugar. I take a deep breath to try and keep my focus. A task that proves to be difficult whenever I’m around her.

“Thank you.” She doesn’t say more than that. She has on a brave face, but I think that’s all she can give right now.

“How are you holding up? It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been…okay” She says distantly. She’s looking just next to me, eyes lost in space. Her mind must be racing.

“Anything going on in that beautiful head of yours that you’d want to talk about?”

“Finnick…how do I do this?” Her eyes now stare directly into mine and I feel heavy. How do you prepare kids to go and fight to the death? There’s no real answer to that question, but she knows that. If there was an answer I would’ve told her immediately. So would Cecilia. What she’s really asking is how do you cope? How do you keep from breaking down every second?

“You just…you have to push through this first year. It’ll still be hard next year and so on, but you learn the routine. You know what to expect and it makes it easier to process.” I rub her arm and she hums a response. I want to give her more comfort, but I don’t want to overwhelm her. We’re in too public of a space for me to fully embrace her. “You’ll be okay, though. I’m here if you need anything at all, sweet girl. I mean that.” Her lips twitch up into the softest smile. Her hand cups my cheek and I could almost melt into her touch.

“I know, sweet Finnick.”

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

~ Silk ~

After the long days of training and interviews end, the watch party starts and I sit next to Cecilia. Her demeanor has gotten more tense throughout these past few days. I know she’s feeling drained and I wish I could be more help. She’s told me not to worry about it. She just wants me to try and get through this first year the best that I can.

We’re in a room full of mentors from the other districts. Finnick is sitting with Mags. He’s tying and untying knots into some rope and I assume it’s to help with stress. I see Haymitch in the corner drowning himself in liquor and I wonder if I’ll have to drink like that to get through these trips in the future. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but I don’t think I’d be surprised if it does. It’ll just mean I have something in common with my father.

The countdown is starting and I’m gripping the couch cushions. I don’t know what to expect. If I’m being honest with myself, my tributes don’t stand a good chance at winning. Both of their training scores were low. Not impressive enough to get any sponsors. It’s horrible, but I know that they’ll die. I just hope it’s quick and painless. That’s all you can really wish for.

The games start and everything is moving so quickly. I can barely even keep track of where my tributes are. I hear the canon going off over and over. Cecilia gasps quietly and holds onto my hand. When I look to see what has happened, I feel like the air has been punched out of me. That little girl, my tribute, is dead on the ground with an axe in her head. Just a few feet away my other tribute is falling to the ground after being stabbed by a career.

“Cecilia” I don’t know what to do. I feel like the room is spinning. “Um…I think I need to take a minute.”

“There’s a bathroom just outside the door. Take however much time you need. I’ll go grab some water.” She rubs my arm and then helps me stand. I try to walk as calmly as I can out of the room. As soon as the doors close behind me I rush into the bathroom and start hyperventilating. There are no tears flowing, there’s only panic. Panic from me not doing enough to help them. Panic from having to watch their gruesome murders. Panic from failing them. Everything around me is spinning and I feel my stomach churning.

“Silk? Can I come in?” That’s not Cecilia. I’m too upset to be able to focus. I don’t even answer. I just keep failing at trying to breathe.

I whip my head at the door as it slightly opens. Finnick peaks in calmly and then shifts into extreme worry once he sees me.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. You’re okay. Look at me.” He holds onto my arms and locks eyes with me. I shake my head at him.

“They’re dead. They’re dead, Finnick. And I couldn’t help them.” He pulls me into a tight embrace. He has one hand on my head and the other rubbing my back. Even at the Capitol he still smells of salty air.

“It’s not your fault, Silk. None of this is your fault.” I’m still shaking and my breathing is still rapid. I hear what he’s telling me but I can’t process it. The panic in my stomach is rising.

“I’m gonna be sick.” I mumble and push him away. I rush over to the toilet and then I feel Finnick’s hands grab my hair out of my face. He sits next to me and continues to rub my back. “You don’t have to stay in here.” I say, breathily.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl.” I sigh deeply and then flush away the sickness. I still feel awful, but at least the anxiety attack has ceased.

He hands me a glass of water and I gladly take it. I clean myself up at the sink and then slowly sip on the water. Finnick stays close by, hand still on my back. I feel calmer now that he is here. I feel the warmth that he brings with him. I lean my head against his chest and he kisses the top of my head. Somehow, even during this horrendous night, he still makes my heart swell.

“Why don’t we go and look at the stars, huh?” He runs his hand through my hair and I nod, still leaning on him. He guides me out of the bathroom and upstairs to his room.

Once inside, he grabs a blanket and wraps it around me. We walk out to the balcony and the warm air hits my face. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Finnick pulls me close to him and I feel myself letting go of some tension.

I wonder how I’d be doing right now if I never met Finnick. I wonder if my nights alone at the Capitol would start to drive me to insanity. There’s a part of me that is afraid of much he means to me. How it feels like I need him. I want to be strong enough to hold myself up, but that isn’t how people work. Pushing others away only makes things worse. I’ve always been afraid of letting people in. I usually keep to myself. The only person who truly knows me is my mother, but I think Finnick is starting to know me. Really know me. That fills me up with so much anxiety. But it’s not really the bad kind. It’s more of a feeling of want. I want Finnick to stay in my life for a long time.

“I wish I lived amongst the stars.” I say while we both stare at the sky. “I want to be the moon and feel the sun shining on me, making the me glow.” He looks down at me while listening intently. I feel like Finnick is always shining. And his sunshine makes me glow. He casts away the darkness. “You’re the sun, Finnick. You are so bright and so beautiful.” I run my hand through his hair and then rest it on his cheek. He’s smiling and I rub my thumb over the dimple that appears. My eyes rest on his lips and I feel that pull that I felt last time we looked at the stars. This time though, I don’t want to keep the moment still. I don’t want to resist the pull.

I raise myself up on my tiptoes and pull his face towards mine. I close my eyes and kiss him. I breathe in his sea salty lips that have a hint of sweetness from a sugar cube. One of his arms holds onto my back while the other tightly wraps around my torso, and there is nothing else in the world. It is just me and Finnick and the stars.

Our kiss eventually breaks, but he doesn’t move his face away. His forehead stays resting on mine.

“Silk…” he says breathlessly. His cheeks are flushed and his sea green eyes are locked onto mine. I wait for him to continue speaking, but he doesn’t. He pulls me in for another kiss. This time feels even more passionate. He holds me even tighter and my feet are just barely touching the ground.

“For the past two years, I thought I’d never feel true happiness again. I was completely defeated.” He starts and I’m now back to standing fully on the ground. “Meeting you has felt like a dream. You bring me serenity amidst all the despair I have endured. Your glow, your incandescent light has guided me out of that pit I fell into. I can’t express how grateful I am to have you in my life.” He still has one hand around my torso, keeping me close, but now his other hand brushes through my hair and then rests just between my jaw and neck. He glides his thumb over my lips and then traces my cheek. I smile and then breathe out a light laugh.

“Such a sweet talker.” He gives me the eye roll that I’m always giving him, but then he laughs and kisses my head.

“I have to keep up the dramatics for you, pretty girl.” I hum happily in response. We stay like this for a minute, just holding each other. I think back to the reason we’re up here in the first place. My face falls and I squeeze Finnick a bit tighter.

“Thank you for helping me get through all of this. Especially tonight.”

“I wasn’t going to break my promise to you. I am here for you and I always will be.”

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

Thank you so much for reading! I had some rough writer's block for this one sooo hope its okayyyy. I hope you enjoyed :) 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

@yourmumstoyboy2-blog @ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler @princessofyourmom @babypaperwitch @stxr-slut

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acidangeis · 4 months

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⠀⠀✩⠀⠀ꮼ⠀⠀ EOLIENNE FINCH of District 8 is the only Hunger Games Victor to truly have the odds work on her favor. Though not the poorest of the twelve districts, anyone from District 8 faces a unique challenge being from the industrial hub of Panem and no real interaction with the elements beyond their cursed weather patterns. With her innocence and beauty, Eolienne was able to get the people of the Capitol wrapped around her pretty little finger. To get ratings back up from the previous nature based arenas, new game-maker Hadrian McRae's used an old Capitol fairground, which were used to celebrate their victory over the Districts long ago, and turned it into a living nightmare filled with jesters, paranoia, and complex machinery. Alongside the tributes from District 3, Eolienne was able to make to the end of the Games with only one death on her hands, and even then, she played a passive role in the situation as she watched the male tribute from District 9 fall off the ferris wheel after jumping out of his way. These days, Eolienne lives out her days as a beloved VIctor by the entire country and is currently in a relationship with the up-and-coming Senator Augustine Claremont, acting as his piece of arm candy rather than a real person. — from the hunger games victors: from the 1st to the 72nd games by topaz roan. taken out of print two years later due to new victors and considered revolutionary propaganda.

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leatherbride · 3 months

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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

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kabuki-draws · 2 months

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Remember the design of Snow´s wife I did a a while ago? Well... I promised you a younger design of her and here she is: Livia Dawnsong!

Some facts:

She is the daughter of Military General and Panem´s Defense Minister Lucanus Dawnsong. This lineage qualified her to study at the Capitol Academy.

She has an older brother named Scipio, a high-ranked Military Officer, as well as a younger sister named Aurelia.

When Coriolanus was in his last year at the Academy she was two classes below him. Over all she is around three years younger than him in general.

Livia had a crush on Snow for a long time just as many girls did during Academy days. He was a handsome young man and very popular thanks to his charm.

While Coriolanus didn´t seem to catch interest in her before he had to go to district 12, he certainly did when he came back. Livia was easy to manipulate, she idolized him and on top she came from a wealthy and powerful Capitol family - exactly what he needed. (At least at one point in her life she started to question him more and more until the flower of her love started to fade away due to his cruelty)

She hated Lucy Gray at first since Livia was jealous of her and Coryo´s relationship (that changed at one point as well after she finds out what happened to Lucy Gray)

Livia was an overall pretty smart and popular girl in her Academy days and beyond. The parties she threw in the Dawnsong mansion were legendary.

Had a passion for plants. She grew lots flowers and exotic plants in the glasshouse of her family´s mansion. Both she and Coryo had a green thumb.

#hunger games #tbosas #hunger games oc #tbosas oc #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #president snow #my oc

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francisg · 4 months

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my hunger games tribute sona from when I first read the books at 13

#my art #artists on tumblr #digital art #oc #thg #the hunger games #district 3 #hunger games oc #tbosas

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nikosasaki · 4 months

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THE GILDED AGE ✤ character posters

↳ coming soon !

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 #queerocs #hunger games oc #thg oc #my edits #ch: julius #ch: fletcher #ch: julius alexander #ch: fletcher hunt #finding a good pic of george was difficult as hell and for what??

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daughter-of-melpomene · 4 months

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𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

❝ For as long as she could remember, Anastasia had known she was going to win the Hunger Games. The oldest daughter and only child of a pair of politicians from Panem’s wealthy District Two, it had only been a matter of time before she had joined the long line of so-called “career tributes” that had come before her, volunteering for the Games because, as someone from a rich district who had had the advantage of actually being trained for this, she could afford to volunteer with very little fear of dying in the arena. And so, after years of training under the critical eyes of former District Two victors, of honing her skills with weapons of all kinds and developing her hand-to-hand combat skills until she could snap an opponent’s neck in only three moves, sixteen-year-old Anastasia had raised her voice at the Reaping and volunteered for the 72nd Hunger Games, determined and ready to enter the arena and add her name to the long list of victors from her district.

And so she had. After spending nine weeks, one of the longest periods of time a Games had ever lasted, in frozen and desolate terrain that had only toward the end become a blistering desert, after killing her way through twelve of her fellow tributes to become the deadliest tribute in Hunger Games history, Anastasia had been named victor of the 72nd Hunger Games, removed from the arena with both frostbite and a vicious sunburn and the blood of her last remaining competitor still on her hands, and taken back to District Two, where she was greeted with parades and parties and parents who proclaimed they’d never been prouder of her.

And she found that, contrary to what she’d always imagined would happen when she came back home a victor, she fucking hated all of it.

Over the next two years, with the exception of her Victory Tour, Anastasia gradually disappeared from the public eye, refusing all offers of a home in the Capital and training the next round of hopeful career tributes, until she became nothing more than a recluse, a self-imposed captive within the walls of her beautiful District Two penthouse, waking up screaming and thrashing from nightmares almost every night and never quite being able to believe that the blood she’d shed was gone from her hands. With every day that passed, she grew more bitter and full of rage towards the Capital and everyone who supported the Games, how they could watch and even cheer as children slaughtered one another for their entertainment and willingly send these children to die simply as penance for something that had happened so long ago, and with every day she lost a bit more hope that anything was ever going to change, convinced that the terrible cycle of violence was going to keep going and going and going long after she was dead, buried and allowed the privilege of a funeral where so many of the tributes she had killed were not.

But then, two years after the Games that had made Anastasia into a murderer, the two tributes from District Twelve had won the 74th Hunger Games together, choosing to die at the same time rather than let the Capital have its way, and Anastasia’s faith in the world restored itself by just a bit. As Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark began their Victory Tour and all of Panem dealt with the minor chink in the armor of their worldview that had come with their victory, Anastasia made sure to keep an eye on the two of them, becoming more and more intrigued with these two defiant young people from the poorest district and how they continued to defy the Capital’s will even as those in power work to keep them on a leash, and whispers of rebellion travel even into the tall and elegant buildings of Anastasia’s district.

And when the third Quarter Quell comes along, forcing former victors from all districts to once again become tributes and revisit possibly the worst experience of any of their lives, Anastasia finds she is actually looking forward to finally meeting these two and seeing them up close - even if she fully intends to die in the Quarter Quell arena, refusing to let the Capital make any more of a monster out of her. But as the 75th Hunger Games commences and Anastasia finds herself becoming closer and closer to Katniss and Peeta, she wonders if, perhaps, allowing herself to die would be letting the Capital win after all. If it would not be better to survive - hopefully, potentially, with these two people she finds herself beginning to care for - and become a different type of soldier as the rebellion against the Capital kicks off in earnest.

If, after almost three years of horrific nightmares and nails bitten bloody and seeing the faces of the children she murdered everywhere she goes, Anastasia can finally show the glittering pigs in the Capital exactly what happens when they make children into killers and tell them to find peace. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginevrastilinski-ocs, @luucypevensie, @carmens-garden, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @oneirataxia-girl, @ocappreciationtag.

#my ocs #introducing my ocs #ch: anastasia upland #oc: anastasia upland #fic: there will be blood #queerocs #ocapp #ocappreciation #ochub #allaboutocs #fyeahhungergamesocs #fyeahthgocs #the hunger games oc #hunger games oc #behold my violent and traumatized angel #i do know that the 72nd games has a canon victor but the point of fanfic is supposed to be to change canon isn’t it?#sorry pliny

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