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redwinetalks · 2 months

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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.

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“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.

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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!

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poordeadsejanus · 5 months

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TBOSAS gave an intense look at the map of panem pre-president snow era, so I pieced it together to make a more official map than anything i've seen thus far. plus, i'm insane about fictional maps for literally no reason. [keep in mind, this is shitty screenshots that i've put together and the screen the map appears on (during lucky's weather report) appears to be rounded, so some of the proportions and such might be off. ] more stuff under the cut

so, these are the images i used to make this:

and i pieced them together as best i could, some of the borders, like the bottom right of 12 and the bottom of 5 became sort of a guessing game because they were covered up/hard to see.

doing that and cropping/pasting them together gave me this image (same as at the top of post)

red lines are clear country borders, yellow are district borders, purple is any of the areas i was unsure about. As we can see from this, districts 7, 10, and 13 (not labelled on this map because at this point in canon-time, it's 'gone') have no definite ending borders, so it's hard to even guess where they would end at. using this i made this more polished map using each district's colours that are listed on fandom dot com

the unclear edges are left blurred because really i don't know where they end...

we know that panem is formerly north america, so i laid the image over a map of north america and got this:

it took a little adjusting because again, my map is based off of a warped television screen, but, we end up with something like this. some interesting things to note is that a lot of coast has presumably eroded away as time passed -- we lost all of baja, and most of florida and socal, and some of virginia and north carolina, and many pieces of the mexican states, though none in their entirety . the places where panem extends over NA water spaces (districts 6, 7, 13) are either from receding water levels or translation issues from the warping of the in-movie screen... or, my own personal error, i guess lol.

again, as far as 7, 10, and 13, their end borders are up to speculation, but i'd imagine 7 extends up to near the edge of the northern canadian borders and maybe into alaska -- though i can't say because that's a huge chunk of space (it is the lumber district, though, so it probably goes as high as the trees are...). same goes for 10: i'd guess it goes south a bit more to near the nartual borders, but likely in any low-elevation areas (near the southern provinces) the sea has swallowed up the land. as for 13, it likely extends more near norther quebec and out toward the maritime provinces (though i'd estimate that most of those are either completely underwater or complete above it, so there's no islands going on). truly though, it's anyone's guess, so let me know your thoughts on it if you made it this far down!

future-panem, like during the events of the hunger games, definitely has changed district borders. we knows there's fencing and forbidden area, so the districts are definitely far smaller and there's space between them (no man's land) so that there is little-to-no communication between districts.

anyway, thanks for checking this out, i spent too much time on this to come out with very little practical use, but if you're like me and you like knowing where fictional locations are/how they're laid out, this is for you

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stxr-slut · 1 month

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Hi!! I saw your post about Finnick reqs so here I am :)

Could you do one where Finnick’s girl gives him a sweater she made for him? Like so casually lol (my oc is from district 8 teehee) and he’s just like so sweet and happy about it and maybe even ;)

lol sorry if this is dumb

My best friend is also a district 8 girlie so I'm happy to provide representation !! (although she isn't as much of a fan of finnick, sigh)

With you and finnick living in different districts, you didn't see each other much. You guys mostly just met up when you were both in the capitol, but finnicks schedule was so packed most days thar you barely got any time together.

So when he told you he'd landed a modeling gig that would take him on a tour of panem you were thrilled.

When he got to District 8, you couldn't meet him at the train station. It would spark rumours, and neither of you really wanted to go public. So you decided to meet up at a hotel later that night.

"Oh! I forgot, I made you something." You remember, pulling a box out of your luggage. You passed it to him and he excitedly unwrapped the pretty bow tied around it, lifting the lid. A bright smile lit up his already angelic features.

You two spent the rest of the night curled up in bed, enjoying each other company and bodies- and by the time you woke up in the morning he was gone. It hurt but you knew why he had to do it. Plus the fact that he ordered your favourite breakfast as room service for you was sweet.

You went to watch his show that day, just wanting to see him one last time before he went to the next district. You wanted to scream when he walked out onto the runway, looking so so pretty.

You were busy admiring his face, that was until you noticed that the jumper he was wearing with his look was the one that you made him. It made your stomach do flips..

Hope this is alright, enjoy lovlies !! ☆▪︎☆

#finnick #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #thg #district 8 #fluff

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vesteneris · 4 months

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not gonna lie, the cast of @kald-dal-art fanfiction about the first Quartel Quell is just really good

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fandomsfanatic1331 · 5 months

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#hunger games aesthetic #the hunger games #district 12 #district 11 #district 10 #district 9 #district 8 #district 7 #district 6 #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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moreespressoformydepresso · 11 days

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Do you think a district 8 funeral/grieving practice is embroidering their clothing with something related to a lost one? Something to remind them of good times. Those happy little moments that are worth remembering no matter how much they hurt.

#it doesn’t have to be big to be meaningful #was thinking of how Bobbin and Wovey both have seemingly random buttons sown onto their clothing and this was born #district 8 #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games #hunger games #wovey tbosas #tbosas bobbin #bobbin #headcanon

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hungergamesheadcanons · 5 months

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Just out of interest if you were to assign every district a probability of having their tribute be victor what would it be?

I'm leaning towards-

District 1 (Luxury Goods): 25%

District 2 (Masonry and Defence): 30%

District 3 (General Electronics): 3%

District 4 (Fishing): 10%

District 5 (Power/Electricity): 4%

District 6 (Transportation): 4%

District 7 (Lumber): 5%

District 8 (Textiles): 3%

District 9 (Grain): 3%

District 10 (Livestock): 5%

District 11 (Agriculture): 5%

District 12 (Mining): 3%

I reckon in earlier games we'd see more of a lean towards Districts with either physical strength or proclivities towards weapons, namely Districts 2, 4, 7, 10 and 11, but once the Career Academies get set in place and Districts 1 and 2 become the powerful tributes they are in the original trilogy this would be the overall outcome.

#the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg districts #district 1 #district 2 #district 3 #district 4 #district 5 #district 6 #district 7 #district 8 #district 9 #district 10 #district 11 #district 12

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jamiewinchester3987 · 5 months

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Chariot Outfits!!!

When I was reading the Hunger games for the first time the chapter of the chariot parade really shook my brain up. I spent months designing what I thought every competitors outfit would look like. When the movies came out lets just say I was disappointed. Don't get me wrong all the movies were great but the costumes really killed me. So in a fit of mania I made a powerpoint with what I think they COULD OF DONE!!!

Note: This is for entertainment and not to distract from the important topics discussed in the Hunger Games series. I'm just an artsy fartsy fashion geek who wanted to do better than the movies. Ps. Ps. I do not own any of the pieces below. If you know the original artist please let me know and I will add them to this post.

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kald-dal-art · 28 days

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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

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catindabag · 3 months

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Part 4 of Panem’s ✨Districts✨ as seen by the 24 OG Mentors in my TBOSAS on Crack!AU.

PS: This is after they met their “totally normal, not crazy” Tributes.

District 7 (Lumber Lumberjacks & Cracker Jacks) according to Vipsania Sickle after meeting Treech.

District 7 (Lumber Axes & Taxes) according to Pup Harrington after meeting Lamina.

District 8 (Textiles Project Runway) according to Juno Phipps after meeting Bobbin.

District 8 (Textiles Barbie & Me) according to Hilarius Heavensbee after meeting Wovey.

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redwinetalks · 20 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.”

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~ 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.”

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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

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feywild-meadows · 1 month

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woof - ‘a really old guy who’s hard of hearing and doesn’t seem to know what’s going on since he keeps trying to stuff poisonous bugs in his mouth’

#woof #thg #hunger games #the hunger games #thg woof #district 8 #catching fire #aesthetic #moodboard #moodboards #edit #edits #aesthetics #icons #textiles #textile #fabric #fabrics #minor characters

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justrainandcoffee · 17 days

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This is just a what if... What if Rose was indeed reaped for the Hunger Games.

We know the ending but not how.

Tw:A N G S T. Not happy ending.

If Alfie was part of the 53th games, then Rose participated a year before when she was 17.

Her name was in the bowl a lot of times. Near 150 at that time. The odds weren't in her favour.

District 8, despite its grey buildings and streets it's a colorful place thanks to people who are always wearing vibrant colours. And that reaping day everyone could see girls and boys beautifully dressed despite the horrible event. And Rose wasn't the exception. She sewed that dress herself and she was proud of it.

After her name was selected, the silence after it was interrupted by a female scream. It was her mother and hugging her knees was her youngest son, also crying. Despite his age, 7, he understood very well what was happening. Her other brother, Samuel, was with the boys and the chance of being reaped as well. He was trying to calm himself because he was ready to kill them all. Anyone but his sister.

Her heart was pounding. She didn't understand at all that probably her days were numbered. Her mother, her brothers... Probably she'll never see them again. She wanted to cried, but she didn't. Her eyes were on Samuel and she shook her head. She knew him.. Samuel was very capable of volunteering just to be with her. But without Rose, her mother needed him.

The boy that was selected as well, wasn't her brother. Nor Samuel said the infamous phrase "I volunteer as tribute." She saw him walked away towards their mother who was still crying.

The minutes she had to say goodbye to her beloved family, were devastated. "You can win, Rosie" little Louis said. No I can't, she thought. But just nodded to him. More than once she said that she hated district 8. A city full of factories and bricks... But gladly she was ready to accept any offer to travel across those familiar streets again.

Her rebel soul was furious. She was nothing but a piece of meat for that people. Cheering, clapping, throwing flowers... She wanted to puke.

Her stylist was a disaster. Rose thought she could do it better herself, but of course she hadn't the option to speak. Just accept the rules.

Her mentor was focused on the boy because, of course, was physically stronger and more ready to face the Arena. What were the chances of a girl like her? None. She spent most of the time alone and studying the different strings, cords and ropes. And types of knives as well.

Her mind knew one thing: she wasn't a murderer. She couldn't do it. Never.

The Arena was a swamp. A dense fog covered the landscape, it was hot and humid full of mosquitoes and thin trees and pines. The bang started the chaos. All tributes started to run, Rose too. She was escaping, she wasn't interested in the backpacks yet, but she found one on her way, so she took it. She managed to hid inside a broken a tree and waited. She didn't know how many minutes passed since the beginning but it seemed a lot. She opened her backpack and found a dagger, cord and two apples. It could be worse.

She heard 10 cannons. That was the end of the bloodbath. And she did it better than those poor souls.

She spent the first night hidden there. Four more died before the gamemakers could show the faces of those who were dead. She spied the sky. District 5, 7, 9 and 11 lost all their tributes. The rest were part of different districts, including 8. Her mentor's favourite was dead. And she wasn't.

Her last thought of the night was that she wasn't the first to die.

And she had a plan.

The next two days four more died. District 1 lost its boy and 4 lost its girl thanks to a poisonous gas near the cornucopia. Just where the water was. The other two were killed by the careers.

And because of her traps.

It was relatively easy. She worked with different types of fabrics for a lot of years and ropes were just another one. She was very skilled tying knots. The constant fog helped her to not be seen the others were focused on killing those stronger than her.

She hid snare traps across the Arena. Two of them trapped two tributes that ended hanging heads down and they couldn't escape. The more they tried, the more tightened the knot was. Easy target for those ready to kill.

Only five remained. Both from district 2, the girl from 1, the boy from 6 and Rose.

It was late in the night when she heard something. Like a growl. She was hidden preparing another set of traps (several were around the Arena) but dropped everything to heard. Along with the growl, she heard a boy screaming. It was a horrific scream.

Crocodiles were getting out of the water. But they weren't normal, they were mutts. Their sharpened teeth were bigger than the ones you could see in a normal animal. And they were quicker. Rose had a second to see how one of them attacked and killed the girl from district 2 like she was nothing but a piece of paper. The image was grotesque.

"Run!" the voice in her head screamed and she listened to it. A cannon in the distance announced the death of that poor girl.

The mutts were guiding them to the poisonous gases. Only four... Boom! Three now.

The last three tributes from 1, 6 or 8. And only one victor.

The crocodiles mutts disappeared as soon as the three of them were near the cornucopia. The gases were around them, mixed with the eternal fog. That place she avoided so well for almost five days. The three of them were coughing. The difference was the height.

She was closer to the ground. Every time she inhaled air, the poison get into her lungs as well. She fell on her knees and then lied on the mud.

At least no one killed her. At least her mother and little brothers didn't have to witness that. It was like she was sleeping.

She closed her eyes.

Alfie won the following games but he never met her, of course. No one was waiting for him year after year and his life was just a circle: tributes dying and him losing his soul in the process. The revolution didn't work and thousands died. Not him, because apparently he couldn't die but his friends did. The games continue and harder than before. The new rules said that the kids could be reaped at the age of 10.

After Snow died, a new one took his place. Because there's always a new one.

The survivors eventually died, too. Even Alfie. After decades and decades of being mentor, with very few victors and a lot of remorse.

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#my oc #rose coldwell #hunger games au #what if...#moodboard #district 8

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