#mags flanagan

[lady-corrine]

Thinking again about how Suzanne esentially subverted the "beloved famous man that is actually a horrible person in real life" with Finnick, who is the complete opposite of that.

Finnick has this whole image costructed around him by the people that abused him for years: the Capitol's darling, their golden boy, the sex symbol of Panem, the man that has countless lovers but leaves them constantly and doesn't look back etc. And you would expect, initially, to meet a man that retains at least a part of that persona in his day to day life. But Finnick doesn't, not even one bit.

You see instead a man that is deeply in love and completely devoted to the one woman he quite literally adores, a man that protects Mags, his old mentor and his mother figure, as much as he can, a man that wouldn't leave Johanna behind, a man that gathers whatever strenght he has left to speak publicly about the abuse inflicted upon him at the government's hands; the opposite of what the Capitol's media and reputation made him out to be.

#don't even get me started on beetee's line about how it's a miracle finnick is still with them giving all the abuse he suffered #that line is haunting #i just love him he's such a great character :(( #finnick odair #annie cresta #odesta #mags flanagan #johanna mason #the hunger games #thg

[falllpoutboy]

knowing that mags wins the 11th hunger games a year after lucy did while dr gaul and snow were working together hits SOOO different now

#tbosas #tbosas spoilers #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #who knows what horrors gaul and snow cooked up in the next games #the capitol probably lied too and said mags was the first female winner #ALSO SHE MIGHT HAVE KNOWN CORAL AND MIZZEN!!! #mags flanagan

[welshaphrodite]

I think the saddest character in the Hunger Games franchise is Mags Flanagan. She is as almost as old as the Games themselves. She won the 11th Hunger Games. Then, for the entirety of her life, for over 60 years, she was forced to relieve that same trauma year after year, trying to train kids, save kids, just like herself. Over time Mags watched the Games get more brutal, more “entertaining”. She watched her community sacrifice two children over and over again. There is nothing Mags can do but bare it. She desensitizes herself. She reaches her 80s. She is old and almost free of the pain; the trauma has formed a callous. But Mags will continue to work until she dies. This is all she has ever known. 

Then, the 75th Quarter Quell is announced and Mags is back on the stage for the first time in 60 years. A reaping outfit. Her name in a glass bowl. The tension, the dread, the silence before the reading of the name -- Annie Cresta. But to Mags, it never mattered the name that was picked. She knew her hand was going up. And for the first time since she was a child, she is back in the Games. 

During her the 11th Hunger Games, Mags was caged in the zoo with the other tributes. This time, she is presented with a gorgeous suite, the best food the Capitol has to offer, and the finest clothes. The 11th Hunger Games were televised on a blurry screen; now, all of Panem is going to watch her every move. Mags knows she isn’t going to win. But, as she spends the last weeks of her life walking in the shoes of every child she couldn’t save, as the trauma of her own Games is as alive and present as it has ever been, she knows that, for the first time in her long life, she was able to truly save at least one person from this fate. 

Hope is a funny thing. Mags picked apart the Capitol’s logic and the heart of the Games long ago. She knows why they allow one victor, and how every tribute goes into the arena hoping its them. She knows this is unrealistic; all of Panem knows that only one will come out alive. But even as she rises into the ticking clock of the arena, that stubborn feeling flutters in her chest. Maybe she will get out of there with the rest of the rebels. But if not --

Mags looks to Johanna. To Katniss and Peeta. To Finnick. Her hope for them is stronger, steadier, than the hope for her own self-preservation. She looks into the cornucopia of weapons, the familiar ring of twenty-four tributes, and allows herself to dream that maybe, maybe, this is it. This will be the last one. 

For the first time in over half a century, Mags won’t be watching the Games from the comfort and safety of a faraway room. This time, she has the chance to help directly. To be able to protect others with more than just a parachute full of supplies. To have the ability to save another life. To save multiple lives. To save all the future children of Panem. 

The gong sounds.

Mags smiles. 

She dives into the water. 

#the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #mags thg #mags flanagan #annie cresta #finnick odair #johanna mason #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #district 4 #suzanne collins why did you do this to us #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #president snow

[teenagecriminalmastermind]

mags flanagan was the victor of the 11th hunger games. she is probably one of the last people we know of canonically in the games who directly, vividly, remembers lucy gray baird.

she remembers the girl from district 12, who dropped a snake down someone's dress, who sang a song the day of her reaping as a fuck you to the capitol. the girl who charmed an entire country and won the games using sheer ingenuity.

she probably remembers reports of the capitol boy who served as her mentor, remembers the blond boy who broke the rules and stayed in that zoo enclosure with her. probably remembers the reports of him doing everything he can to save this girl. coriolanus snow. she remembers that name, tucks it away, connecting it with decency and integrity.

she probably, as a young girl, thought that maybe there was some good left in this world. if a capitol boy would put his neck and life on the line for a lowly girl from district 12, who would defy every social rule for her, then maybe there was some hope.

she probably remembers the rumours that floated around after those games, remembers how they said that blond boy ran away to be with her. remembers how no one heard from or about lucy gray baird ever again, and then next year she goes on to compete and win the games.

and then when the victors are made to be mentors, she looks for that girl, lucy gray baird, wonders if she could ask her questions about her games, about her life now, about coriolanus snow, the blond boy who changed the games themselves for her. but she is nowhere to be found. lucy gray baird is now a legend, passed down in hushed tones amongst the ones who still remember her. the girl who charmed an entire arena of snakes, the girl with the guitar, the girl who said nothing they could take from her was worth keeping.

and then she returns year after year, and a decade or so passes until she hears a familiar name. a name she expected died away in district 12 in obscurity, because there is no way the capitol would let his impunity pass unpunished, would they?

but here he is, president coriolanus snow.

she wonders how he's still here, and how he betrayed her memory, betrayed what lucy gray baird stood for, what he once stood for. but there he stands, impassive, cursorily shaking her hand before she stops herself from asking about the girl with the rainbow skirt.

then comes another victor from district 12, and she turns the games on their head, much like her predecessor. mags watches her, wonders if president coriolanus snow is thinking the same thing she is. when the quarter quell rolls around and finnick tells her about the burgeoning spark of a rebellion and how the girl on fire might be the one who fully set it ablaze, she agrees wholeheartedly to return to that arena.

she thinks about telling him about lucy gray baird and her story, but doesn't think he would believe her if she did. when she sees snow again, knowing certain death lies ahead, she finally asks him the question that's rested on her lips for half a century.

she asks him about the girl in the rainbow skirt.

#my thoughts got away from me #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #tbosas #mags flanagan #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #katniss everdeen #finnick odair #ballad of songbirds and snakes

[alexisrosemullens]

THE HUNGER GAMES APPRECIATION WEEK - Day 3: Favorite Mentor/Mentee

Mags and Finnick

#thgweek24 #thgedit #usercharisse #userpanda #userlockescoles #userdanahscott #userraffa #userhallie #tuserheidi #useroli #userrobin #tuservaleria #userkarolina #userdean #tuserjen #finnick odair #mags flanagan #mine #moviegifs #filmgifs

[kald-dal-art]

More THG Victors fan art because I needed a break from school work.

Just sidenote the reason Mags isn’t wearing some type of uniform in her game is that I headcanon it took 2-3 years after the 10th game they started to give the tributes appropriate clothing instead of having them wear their reaping clothes so yeah :)

#the hunger games #thg #finnick odair #mags flanagan #thg cashmere #thg gloss #fan art #digital art #procreate #thg victors #victors #thg art #thg headcanons #hunger games #the hunger games fan art #hunger games fanart #thg fanart #thg series #artists on tumblr #illustration #district 1 #district 4

[kometqh]

𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader) 𝟓𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝-𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭-𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ,𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫?

Tugging at my hair, the wind brushed past me in a hurry. It came from far away, seemingly always looking for something, never being able to find it. Paired with the wind, a steady but small wave washed up against the shoreline, the thinnest part of the wave just barely scraping my feet.

I looked up at the sky. It was partly clouded, but beautiful nethertheless. The sun was just barely breaking through the horizon, casting gentle light across the beach. It mixed with the blue sky and formed a rose-pink colour across the clouds, the shore and the sea. Was it always so beautiful here? 

I shook my head, casting my gaze to the side, my eyes landing on a lone boulder which sat in the water. The exterior was decorated by lavish long seaweed and a cluster of barnacles. It sat proudly in the water, the waves crashing against it every so often, sprays of water flying into the air. It was a pretty sight. Almost pretty enough to distract me from the anxiety tugging at my heart.

A sliver of water touched my feet, before being dragged back to the sea.

Today is my last year of reaping. Today is the day that decides whether I'll be free for the rest of my life, or whether I will die fighting for my life in a gruesome bloodbath.

Though in this context, freedom isn't exactly what one might think it is. Nobody is ever truly free in Panem.

Someone like me would not survive in any of the arenas we've seen so far. I can barely handle killing a fish, let alone an entire human being, a child. I can feel a shiver travel down my spine, and I shake my head, casting those thoughts aside. Nothing will happen, I think to myself, and continue to look at the splashing waves, hypnotised by the rhythmic back-and-forth movement, accompanied by occasional licks of water against the tips of my feet, which have found respite in the sand.

With a sigh, I lean back on my elbows. Squinting slightly, I observe the clouds. None have any particular shape to them, but it feels comforting to stare at them as they move. Would I get to see them in an arena? I don't think so.

Time passed by rather quickly. When you lay on a beach with no form of watch or clock, a minute can quickly become an hour. And before I knew it, I began to notice some small boats setting out into the sea, as the sun slowly climbed up higher into the sky. It must be what...7am? Maybe 8. That's usually when people wake up to go fishing, since the waters are calmer in the morning.

With a sigh, I begin to think of the day ahead. It is mandatory to attend the reaping. If one doesn't, they'll be dragged out of their homes, whipped in the town square, and then forced to watch. I sigh heavily, fingers digging into the sand beneath me, and with a light shake of my head, I reluctantly heave myself up and off the sand, heading towards the treeline.

Nobody really ventures into the wooden forest, in fear of the peacekeepers that guard the borders of District 4. Although I learned very quickly that they're further out than one might think, many citizens of District 4 have no interest in venturing out, believing that there isn't much out there to be seen in the first place.

But not me.

When I was much younger, I'd often run into the forest to go exploring. There aren't many dangerous animals in there, so nobody would worry unless I haven't returned by the evening.

On one of those adventures, I had discovered a bunch of rock pools. Now that may not sound fantastic, but it was. I saw big animals, at the time I wasn't sure what they were, but now I do - they were seals. All bearing different kinds of fluffy coats of fur, ranging from pure white, to a spotty grey, brown and black. 

After that day, I'd always return at least once a week to observe them from afar. I don't know much about them, and I'd prefer to minimise the risk of being mauled by an animal. But each year, I'd see small seal pups, sunbathing around the rock pools, chasing each other over the expanse of the beach, or cuddling up to their mothers.

Other times, when the seals weren't there, I'd venture further out, playing around the rock pools, observing the little creatures stuck in them. Sometimes there'd be small crabs hiding in crevices, other times there'd be small fish swimming endlessly in circles. 

I'd sit there each day, staring at and observing the different animals, until I'd look up and realise I've overstayed my welcome. On one particular day, I walked around the beach for so long, mesmerised by the waves, gazing at the stars in the sky, that I hadn't noticed it was dark. Upon realising it I had hurried back home, still in a daze, but it was already pitch black by the time I returned, and I had gotten the biggest scolding from my mother, asking where I've been. She was quick to ground me, and I wasn't allowed out of other people's sight for almost two weeks.

Annie Cresta, my best friend, had repetitively asked where I went that day, but I never uttered a word of it to her, only insisting that I had been diving too far from the shore. I've been friends with her for years now, practically since we were in diapers.

A long time ago, we'd go out swimming together in the kelp forests near our homes, they were far away from the main area of fishing, but close enough for adults to not worry. We'd often see sea otters swimming around the kelp, but they stayed far from us. Me and Annie would often follow the otters, as they knew where to get Abalone from. But after each return home, we'd be scolded by our mothers, who insisted we had to stop if we didn't want to get into trouble.

I guess finding abalone and bringing it home without the permission of the authorities counts as poaching.

We'd sometimes share some with other families of trusted friends, but mostly Finnick Odair's family, who were just as close to us.

Anyway, I'm not willing to disclose information about the beach, or the animals, to anybody. Not even my long-time crush, Finnick, the boy with sea-green eyes. I've had a crush on him for years now, but his eyes were always on Annie. I can see why, their personalities match so well, Finnick's confidence and caring nature complements Annie's shy and anxious one. I'm just the third wheel whenever all three of us are together, but I guess I don't mind.

I'll find the right one eventually, I hope.

Too deep in my thoughts, I had failed to realise that there was a low lying tree branch ahead of me. And looking up too late, I walked face first into it. The pain struck me all at once, and I swear I heard a tiny 'crunch'.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" I shouted, hissing in pain. "Stupid branch! Why is it even there?!" I shouted at no one in particular, holding onto my nose tightly. I slowly let go, feeling the burning pain flare up on my skin like a smouldering flame, and then I felt it. The steady flow of blood. It was everywhere. My face, lips, my hands, even my clothes. Who knew a human nose could bleed so much? I looked over myself, crying out at the state of my shirt.

I have to get home, I thought. With quick, long strides, I soon found myself walking through the front door of my house, being greeted by my mother standing in the kitchen, preparing our clothes for the reaping. "I'm home." I said loudly, my tone laced with annoyance, I stepped in and shut the door behind me, walking into the kitchen, still holding tightly onto my nose.

My mother turned her head to greet me with a smile, but that smile quickly disappeared at the sight of me.

Her face paled and her eyes widened in shock, mouth falling agape as a worried yelp left her lips. "What happened to you dear?!" She screamed, dropping everything mid sentence as she made her way over to me.

I rolled my eyes, sighing loudly. "I walked into a tree branch." I muttered under my breath, my shoulders slumping in defeat.

My mother laughed at me, all of the initial worry dissipating from her body. "Really?" She asked in disbelief, howling in laughter, holding her stomach. After two minutes of her laughing, she finally calmed down enough to take a look at my injury, deciding that some cold, wet rag will be enough to soothe both the swelling and the pain. "Annie will be laughing just as much as you, I bet," I said as I walked over to the tap, turning it on, "'Y/n you're so clumsy!'" I mocked her voice, groaning in anticipation of that knock on the front door, awaiting my closest friend to come and retrieve me. I began to wipe the blood off my face and hands with some water, using a towel to dry off after.

Early this year me and Annie had decided to go to our last reaping together. We had both turned 18, and so it would be the last year that our names would be put into that glass bowl. We were ecstatic over it, but at the same time terrified. This was the last year, but what if one of our names gets pulled out? We're both anticipating it, and praying at the same time that it won't happen. It would be devastating, and I don't believe that either of us are prepared to face 23 other tributes in the arena, let alone kill any of them.

But putting those thoughts aside, I decided to focus on the present. I had managed to drown out my mother's voice, but when I tuned in, I realised she was talking about the dress I'll be wearing. It was a sundress, in the faintest colour of royal blue possible, with a frilled, off-white hem. "I wore it years ago, at my very last reaping too," My mother spoke, her hands lovingly gliding over the faded fabric, "I was told that all the boys looked at me that day." She laughed at the memory, now gently holding the dress by the straps, pressing it against my body. "Hold it, dear."

My hands gently held the dress, and I looked down at myself, my eyes widening in shock as I looked over the intricate designs scattered across the expanse of the dress - sunflowers graced the fabric, painted in the faded blue, overlapping each other.

"Go, try it on dear." My mother said, ushering me to my room, "I'll do your hair after, okay?" She said, and shut the door on me before any words could form at the tip of my tongue.

I shook my head with a small smile, setting the fabric down onto my bed. I turned away, beginning to strip out of my blood-tattered t-shirt, discarding it to a dark corner of my room, my shorts and socks following in tow. I walked a few steps over to a large cracked mirror. It leaned proudly against the wall, reflecting the bright sunrays that made their way into my room.

How many hours has it been?

I looked myself over, turning from one side to another, observing. If my name was to be called out...Would I even have a chance in the arena? Most of the kids that are chosen are frail and skinny, others are fit and healthy, and others are strong and tall. Which category did I belong to? With a loud sigh, I moved away from the mirror and back to my bed, where the beautiful dress laid. I looked over it, staring intensely. The sound of birds chirping in the distance, the gentle breeze coming in through my window, and the smell of the sea all invaded my senses at once. I love this place - no matter how difficult life may be. I'll always have some form of a safe place in District 4. If only the circumstances were different, maybe I'd be able to-

"What are you doing?" A voice asked, ripping me out of my thoughts. I slowly looked over to the person, my eyes going first as my head followed suit. It wasn't Annie, nor was it my mother or sister.

"Finnick?! Look away!" I shouted, grabbing the dress, covering myself up. Maybe I did have a crush on him, but that didn't mean I would happily expose myself. "It's not like you've got something I haven't seen already!" Finnick laughed, a wide amused grin gracing his lips, exposing his pearly white teeth. Though in my embarrassment, I failed to hear the dark undertone in his voice. "I don't care! You don't just invade in on my privacy like this!" I said, chucking one of my pillows at him. "Alright, alright! I'll cover my eyes! Is that good enough?" He asked, a tint of amusement still lacing his voice, but the genuineness was unmistakeable.

"Fine. What did you want anyway?" I asked, slipping the dress on as my eyes focused on him like a hawk, making sure his eyes were covered.

"Just came to say good luck, since y'know, it's your last year of reaping." He said, smiling at me as his hands covered his eyes. I smiled with a huff, and smoothened the dress out over myself. The end of it just about reached my knees, but the material was stretchy enough if I needed it to be. I walked over to my mirror, stunned at how it complimented my skin tone, and looked over myself, turning from side to side, completely forgetting that Finnick was even there for a moment. 

"Can I look now?" He asked, his voice so smooth and gentle it made my heart flutter. "Yes, go for it." I said, walking over to him. 

"How do I look?" I asked, giving him a small twirl. The end of the dress seemed to flow in the air like a jellyfish, the beautiful blue turning almost into a gentle wave, rising slightly before it dropped as I came to a stop.

I looked up to Finnick, searching for a reply, but there wasn't any. He simply stood there, silently watching, but his eyes were slightly widened. I cleared my throat, snapping my fingers near his face. "You look great, I'm sure any guy you want will chase after you after seeing this." He said, almost breathless but still confident, a smirk gracing his lips as he looked me up and down through hooded eyes.

I laughed, shaking my head in denial. "No, I don't think so," I said, leaning against the window frame, staring into those pretty eyes of his. I looked him over, noticing that he was wearing a dark blue tank top, along with some form of tight-fit joggers. His hair glistened in the sun, his skin tan from the rays. His hand slowly reached out to me, and his rough fingers gently latched onto the straps of my sundress, toying with the material. 

His touch against my skin seemed to set it on fire. My heart began thudding aggressively against my chest, and I had to focus on breathing normally, fighting the rising heat in my cheeks.

Does he always have to be so touchy? If he comes any closer he'll be able to hear how fast my heart is beating. 

 "Anyway, have you seen Annie?" I asked, quickly diverting his attention, and his gaze. At that he shook his head, looking up from my shoulders to my eyes. "I was gonna see her after you." He said, biting his bottom lip in thought. 

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it, you know how she gets." I finished quietly as a pang of hurt tugged at my heart. Was I jealous?

"Yeah, but it can't be that bad. What are the odds?" He asked, his fingers lightly tugging at the material of my dress, observing how the fabric bounced back to my skin. His eyes concentrated on the material again, his eyebrows furrowing in worry as he remained silent, still chewing on that lip. I observed him, looking over his hair, it looked so fluffy. His forehead glistened, some sweat having built up, his green eyes stuck in a trance. His fingers felt soft against my skin, and his breath lightly fanned over my neck.

I took a deep breath, focusing on how my chest rose up as air filled it, giving myself a spare moment to realise my thoughts. My hands came to hold his own, gently rubbing the sun-kissed skin.

"It'll be okay, if anything happens...I'll be there." I said, giving his hands a soft squeeze, reassuring him softly, "You better get going. She'll think you won't show up." I stroked his cheek affectionately, smiling down at him. I could tell that Annie was at the forefront of his mind, after all, he did have feelings for her, even if he hadn't admitted it. To anyone. But, as a person who believes herself to be in love, I can recognise another person that's in love. Or so I think. "Go Finnick." I said, pushing him away with the tip of my finger against his forehead.

He sent me a quick but charming smile, nodding softly, saying his goodbye's before jogging off in the opposite direction of my house. I began to feel a sadness tug at my chest, and even though I knew I shouldn't feel like this, I couldn't help it. 

That sadness stayed with me for a while, it stayed as my mother tied small strands of hair together so that it resembled a net, it remained as she talked about the dress my sister would wear, it remained whilst my sister gaped at how pretty I looked, picking at her nails in nervousness, it remained until the moment that Annie's gentle fist knocked at my front door.

My mother quickly opened it, greeting her sweetly. A small 'Where's Y/n?' could be heard, and I peeked my head out, ready to go and face our last reaping.

"Y/n? You look...Amazing!" Annie exclaimed, a bright smile on her face as she trotted up to me, extending her arms for a hug. "So do you Annie, so do you." I said happily, careful not to ruin her hair. It was tied up into a thick ponytail, with a couple of braids running through it, and two strands of hair framing her face prettily. My own hair was let down, however the top pieces were tied together into an intricate net pattern. My mother had outdone herself, genuinely.

Annie's hugs were a different kind of love - warm and gentle, but they conveyed everything that her words failed to. I could tell by the way her hands trembled around me that she was anxious. Annie wasn't a fighter or a hunter, and anyone that had been around her could tell.

Someone began running to the front door, stepping loudly onto the floor. I looked behind me and saw Hali making her way towards me, her arms outstretched. "Are you going now?" She asked, her voice quiet. I wrapped my arms around her in a hug, placing a small peck on the top of her head. "Yes, we want to be there early to avoid the crowds." I said, patting her head with one hand. Hali looked up at me with her big doe eyes, her bottom lip quivering.

"I'll see you there, right?" She asked, and I could hear the fear in her voice. I nodded softly, smiling at her. "Yes, you'll see me and Annie standing with the other oldest girls, alright? I'll wave at you too." I reassured her, not letting go until she was ready. She nodded her head quickly, shaking like a leaf.

"It'll be okay. They won't choose me." As I said it, Hali unlatched her arms, stepping a bit away. "Alright, I really hope not. But what if they do?" She asked, twiddling with her hair. 

"If they choose me, then I'll need you to support me from home okay?" I asked, kneeling down in front of her. "I'll need you to take care of mum, and take care of yourself until I return. Is that okay?" I asked, looking at her with a small smile. She nodded her head, wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. She didn't want to let go, and Annie had to step in and ask 'Are you ready to go' before Hali unwillingly detached herself from me. With a quiet 'yes', I gave Hali one last hug and a reassuring squeeze of her hand, making my way backwards to the door.

"You'll see me for dinner, okay?" I asked, and she nodded her head, wiping away a few tears. "I love you." She said through her tears.

"I love you too, now go get ready." I said, giving her one last hug before walking out of the house, bidding my goodbyes to both my mum and Hali. "Take care of yourself dear. We'll see you there." My mother said, waving to me as she placed one hand on Hali's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You'll see me there, mum. I love you." I said, my mother whispered an 'I love you' back, shutting the door gently. With a heavy sigh, I turned to Annie, linking my arm with hers.

 Annie looked at me worriedly, chewing on her bottom lip - a nervous habit she had picked up over the years. "Do you think we'll be okay?" She asked quietly, looking at me, concerned. I nodded my head, forcing a smile onto my lips, even though I could feel the sick tumbling around in my stomach. 

Suddenly, the air began to feel a bit too warm, and I could feel sweat beginning to cling uncomfortably to my skin. "We'll be okay Annie," I reassured her, giving her a side hug, "You've got me." I said quietly, nudging her to keep moving forward.

The town square wasn't so far away that we had to hurry, yet we made it there in record time. The queues weren't massive, and so we got through to the courtyard rather quickly, holding onto our throbbing fingers. It wasn't long until everyone else had slowly started filing into the courtyard, every person of every age group was there. I looked around, noticing how quickly the yard had filled with people. My eyes then looked at the entrance, trying to see my sister and mother. Soon enough they entered the courtyard, hand by hand heading to the side-lines, where other adults and young children would file and stand. 

Hali's big, wide eyes scanned the area, and she looked like a lost rabbit, all alert and ready to run. She was looking for me, and soon our eyes connected and I sent her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up.

I then looked forward, staring ahead at the temporary golden podium. There were four chairs situated just behind the single podium and two glass balls on each side of it. One chair is for our Mayor, one for the announcer, and two for the two Victors from District 4; Finnick, and an elderly woman named Mags. Everyone is seated in the appropriate seats. 

Once the crowd begins to come to a stall, the Mayor takes it as his sign to walk up to the microphone, looking up at the big clock above him, clearing his throat.

It struck 12. 

He begins by greeting the citizens, and then proceeds to tell the history of Panem, as he does every year. He talks about the natural disasters, the uprisings, the destruction of District 13 - all of this is old news. After overcoming the Dark Days, laws were created, and alongside them so were the Hunger Games. I manage to tune out his voice, and instead focus on those behind him.

The announcer, who every year comes from the Capitol, gets the opportunity to personally pick out which children will be sent to their deaths in a bloodbath. 

Her hair was styled into some sort of glamorous, 3 story high bun, with a few loose strands framing her oddly sharp face. It was dyed an unnatural golden colour, and had sparkling silver beads embedded into it, two particularly large ones placed just at the tip of her hair strands, sitting comfortably on the frilly material of her sparkling, turquoise two piece - a skirt and a corset, her feather-like, white skin covered by the material of a matching jacket. She really outdid herself.

Seated on her left were Finnick and Mags, both looking over the crowds, both wearing unreadable expressions as the Mayor continues to talk. 

For a second, I believe that Finnick has noticed me, it looked as though he was looking directly into my eyes. His sea-green eyes peeking into my very soul. My heart fluttered, and the butterflies started circling around in my stomach. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I took a deep breath, but then I'm harshly hit with reality, and remember that Annie was right next to me, probably looking at him too.

He looks away as the Mayor begins to name the winners of District 4, and stands up along with Mags to wave at the crowds, being greeted with the appropriate level of applause. Curt and short, but it didn't matter. Next, the Mayor announces the Capitol representative, Sylvia Borgnino, and she stands up, waving excitedly at us, making tiny steps towards the microphone, her cheery voice echoing around us in seconds. 

"Happy Hunger Games everyone! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" She shouts excitedly, almost hopping on her toes. 

I guess there is at least one person here that's happy about the games. 

She thanks the Mayor for his kindness and welcoming, and then quickly turns back to us, the audience, her voice changing to a more serious tone.

"And now," She pauses, leaning over the podium and looking over at everyone, "We shall draw the names of the Tributes." She states, slowly walking over to the glass bowl full of girls' names, the sound of her heels clacking, beating at my eardrums.

"Ladies first."

I look over to Finnick, and then Annie, and then Hali. Hali is already looking at me, and so is my mum. I reach my hand out to hold Annie's, squeezing tightly as I feel how clammy her hand is, my chest tightening as I breathed. I swallow an imaginary lump, feeling how my throat constricts uncomfortably.

The sun was beating down on us, its' rays glazing over my skin, bubbling up sticky sweat. Were did the clouds go?

Wearily, I glance up at the large clock towering over us, its' heavy ticking weighing down on my shoulders.

Sylvia Borgnino's gloved hand shoots up into the air dramatically, and the crowd collectively goes silent. No one dares to even breathe as she animatedly rummages through the name cards for a solid 10 seconds.

It better not be me. I swear if it's me I will riot, I think to myself. The nerves tickle at the inner lining of my stomach, and for a moment I believe that I might throw up.

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of my forehead

Tick, tock.

Was the sun always so hot?

Tick, tock.

I swallow heavily.

Her hand grasps onto something, and she dramatically withdraws it, menacingly crossing over to the podium.

"And the female tribute from District 4 is.."

Please not me. Not me. My breathing quickens as she draws on her silence, smiling devilishly down at the crowd. My hair was sticking to my neck, creating an unpleasant sensation. 

I swallow dryly, my mouth feeling as though I had been deprived of water.

As the words leave her mouth, I can feel my heart drop.

"Annie Cresta."

Time seems to stop. I can no longer feel Annie's hand in my grasp, her fingers having slowly slipped out. I turn my head, feeling my chest heaving up and down, tears pricking at my eyes. My hands fly up to my mouth in shock, intense tremors travelling from my shoulders up to my fingertips.

Annie falls to her knees with a thud, hiding her face in her hands as she cries out hysterically, her mane-like hair looking like a flame. I follow suit, embracing her in my arms, whispering quiet 'It's okay's', holding her head on my shoulder. The other girls slowly step away, creating a circle around us.

What do I do? Do I let her go? That girl won't last a minute in there!

Two peacekeepers rip through the crowds aggressively, roughly pushing anyone out of their way, before coming to a stop in front of us, heaving Annie up by her arms, ushering her towards the stage. Her face is covered in sweat and tears, her fiery hair sticking uncomfortably to her face, her mouth wide open as she wails.

"Please! No! I can't go in there!" She screams, digging her heels into the ground, protesting, thrashing her arms around. She looks as though she suddenly became haunted, a sort of violent air surrounding her. 

With small footsteps, I attempt to follow after her, but more peacekeepers arrive to stop me, creating a blockade of bodies. I look towards my mother and sister, eyes wide, and see their shocked faces. My mother is shaking her head in a 'no', but it's too late. Hali looks at me wide-eyed, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she senses what I'm about to do. 

I look to Finnick, noticing that he had stood up from his chair, his fists clamped shut, once tan skin now having turned a strained white colour. His eyes are stuck to Annie, and never dare to leave her once.

Before Sylvia Borgnino can utter a single word, I raise my hand, pushing through the peacekeepers. All heads turn to me. The guards stop pushing Annie, and she looks to me, her thrashing easing a bit.

The words leave my lips before I can even process them myself. 

With a dry mouth, clammy hands and a wildly beating heart, I shout, "I volunteer!"

#finnick x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games #annie cresta #district 4 #mags flanagan #finnick imagine #finnick x y/n #mockingjay #thg series #thg fanfiction #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #thg #angst #fluff #oneshot #finnick oneshot #catching fire #friends to lovers #thg finnick #haymitch abernathy

[st-alia-atreides]

District 4 is one of the wealthiest districts of Panem. Its major industry is fishing, and the children are trained for jobs in this industry from a young age. The bread from this district is a salty, fish-shaped loaf, tinted green by seaweed. District 4 is also a Career District, where children illegally train for and subsequently volunteer for the Games. Training in the district’s fishing industry is also useful for tributes, as they have experience in swimming, using nets and tridents, making fishhooks from scratch, and identifying edible sea life. District 4 is located along the Pacific Coast, stretching through modern-day California and Oregon, bordered by District 7 to the North and Districts 1 and 5 to the East. THE HUNGER GAMES APPRECIATION WEEK day six → favorite district

#thgweek24 #the hunger games #thgedit #filmedit #junkfooddaily #userpayton #userashe #mine #nessa007 #userveronika #userraffa #tuserlyn #userrlaura #userclara #usermali #userpayel #finnick odair #annie cresta #mags flanagan #odesta

[whenitcounts33]

forget haymitch's game (though i 100000% would read about it) i want to read about mags. mags, the victor of the 11th games. the first victor to get a tour. to get the parade and an interview. the only victor alive during the og trilogy to remember the dark days and  how it used to be in the districts. the only one who remembers lucy gray baird. mags was alive during it all and i want a whole ass book about her

#mags flanagan #the hunger games

[maggiecc]

When the World Shifts (Finnick O'dair x reader)

Finnick O’Dair x reader

TW: It's about the Hunger Games, so murder, talks of death, Annie has panic attacks

This first part does not use Y/N, for the next part should I include it, or continue to disclude it?

No Betas, we die like Vikings.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4:TBD

“On the third quarter quill game, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.” Snow continued his speech, but you stopped being able to hear it, his words turning into static.

“No, No, No” You hear Annie mumble. You turn to look at her as she starts to shake, and her mumbles turn to screams. She had covered her ears with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut “NO, NO, NO!”

You wrap her up into your arms, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort all while you felt the same. You too wanted to scream but screaming would do you no good and you knew this. You cannot afford to fall apart, not now, not with Annie here. The announcement of the quarter quell, that the 75th Hunger Games would be made up of victors meant your safety from the games was gone. You didn’t want to believe it, that it was possible, but Annie’s tears were enough proof for you to believe it.

Before you could think about reentering the games, you both jumped at the sound of a door slamming shut and footsteps running toward the room you sat in. You knew who it was, you wanted to get up and run to him, but you knew you could not let go of Annie. She clung to you as if you were her lifeline, and perhaps you were for the moment grounding her to remind her where she is something she cannot always tell. As the steps got closer you tried to think of what you should do, or say but there was nothing. The sound of the door being ripped open caused Annie to jump getting ready to fight an instinct all the tributes held. The other 2 victors of District 4 had entered. You turn to try and grab Annie but before you can grab her someone else beats you to it. Mags had her in her arms and started to sink to the ground with her as her cries continued. Finally being able to pull your focus from Annie you turn to look at the man who had yet to leave the entryway.

“Finnick,” you whispered the tears finally starting to fall “Oh Finnick.” You ran to him as he opened his arms to grab you. As you reach him you wrap your arms around him, and he mirrored you, one arm around your waist and one holding the back of your head, lacing his fingers through your hair. Your head was pressed to his chest and you could hear his heart racing, it was the only thing you could hear, even drowning out Annie who now was just whimpering in Mags’s arm. Your tears began to soak his shirt but neither of you cared about that. You did not know what to do, or what to say, so you just let yourself be held and pretend for a moment everything will be okay.

The night of the announcement was a whirlwind, the District 4 tributes all stayed together, few words were spoken that night, but many tears were spilled. You all held each other, only leaving to make tea, or grab tissues. The next morning when you awoke you noticed you were short a person, Annie and Mags rested together but Finnick was gone. You felt your breath quicken as you ran out of the room.

“Finnick? Finnick?” You tried to keep your voice low, you knew if you woke Annie and she heard you calling for Finnick she would panic again.

As you turned the corner you heard a response called from the kitchen “In here love.” 

“Finnick you can’t just leave like that!” You scold him, voicing raising by accident. You take a moment to close your eyes and breathe, knowing you need to remain calm in the coming days, working yourself up would not help. “When I didn’t see you, I got nervous I, I”

“I’m sorry darling, I wanted to get the food ready before everyone awoke so we could eat it again you all wouldn’t have to worry” He explained. 

You let out a soft sign, “ Alright well I’ll help you finish to make it go faster. Annie and Mags will be up soon.” 

The two of you start to move around the kitchen together, moving in tandem to finish the breakfast he had started. It was simple food, only toast, and eggs, all of you so sick to the stomach over the news you would not be able to eat anything else. As Finnick worked on the eggs you put the toast in and started to boil water for tea.

You turn to look at Finnick trying to gather your thoughts “Finnick we need to start”

“Not now,” He cut you off “Let's eat breakfast first and wait until Mags can speak with us too.” 

You silently nod, noticing his purposeful exclusion of Annie, and although you knew why it still hurt to think about. Annie had been doing so much better before the news broke, and thinking about how she was reduced to her state right after her games hurt you. She was like a sister to you, and seeing all her progress dissipate was almost as bad as the news itself.

You both simply look at each other for a moment, both thinking the same thing but neither of you speaking it. The silence is broken by the kettle’s whistle, both breaking your eye contact to return to your kitchen task.

Eventually, you both gather the food and drinks onto a tray and carry it back into the room with Annie and Mags. You place the tray down on the table and go towards the duo. You first wake Mags, giving her a light tap which wakes her instantly. She never fully sleeps anymore always being ready to jump awake at any noise or movement. She looks at you and her eyes soften, expressing all she needs to say. Next was the more difficult one, you put Annie’s head in your lap and start to hum as you stroke her hair, slowly getting louder and louder. Eventually, she jumps awake instantly screaming squeezing her eyes shut.

“Annie, Annie, it's me” You plead to her

“No, no no!”

“Annie please open your eyes, it’s me, it's us.” You continue and eventually, she opens her eyes and sees you. She stops trying to break out of your arms, but her shaking does not stop completely. You then get her to sit up, keeping her between Mags and you and Finnick puts the plates down in front of all of you. 

The silence continues as you all eat the food. It's difficult to swallow the food, every bite feeling like it is going to come back up, but you know now is not the time to starve yourself, not with the games looming overhead. Once you were all finished eating, you started to pile the plates but before you could bring them to the kitchen Mags took them from you to walk them back.

“I can,” you try to stop her, but she shakes her head to you. As Mags leaves you stand and then help Annie up. She was clearly still tired and although you have all been together, you don’t blame her, she had been tense the entire night. You bring her to the couch in the room and hold her hand until she falls back asleep. Once she was done you slipped your hand away from hers and let out a soft sign.

“We have to talk about this,” You tell Finnick, now that Annie is asleep you know you can no longer avoid speaking about the games.

“I know,” he replied, feeling the same weight as you. Mags then walks back into the room, and you all look at each other.

“What, what, what do we do?” You ask, looking at the other victors, unsure of where even to begin.

“We need to figure out who is going in.” Finnick responds “I am the only male victor, but the three of you have an equal chance of getting chosen.”

“We can’t let Annie go back in, she wouldn’t be able to handle it” you begin to explain “And Mags, no offense, but you cannot go back in there. You look so young for 80 but the other victors could be in their prime”

“No, you can’t” Finnick tried to argue but you cut him off.

“Finnick one of us has too, and I am the only one who stands a chance, you else? Annie can’t and I won’t let Mags.” He begins to open his mouth to argue but you don’t even give him the chance. “Finnick, please don’t argue with me on this, I won’t change my mind. Annie will need someone with her here, and I am the most capable in the arena.”

Finnick looked at you, battling with you without words until he eventually lost. 

“Fine, but we stay together and you cannot put yourself in any unnecessary danger”

“Okay, and the same goes for you, we get out of this together.” You put your pinky out.

“Together” He responds, wrapping his pinky with yours.

#finnick odair #Finnick O’Dair #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #finnick odair x reader #hunger games #the hunger games #annie cresta #thg #finnick odair fanfiction #finnick fanfiction #finnick odair imagines #the hunger games fanfiction #mags flanagan #coriolanus snow

[inthelquvre]

finnick odair who wants nothing more than for you to let him play with your hair the night before the quarter quell to calm his nerves.

warnings: fem!reader, small mentions of panic attacks, trauma : (, mentions of snow being a dick, fluff and sadness : (

a/n: thanks for the request! i tried to make this as in character as possible lol. big thanks to everyone for the reblogs and likes!!!! i love you all loads!!!!

finnick odair was the strongest person you knew, you were sure of it.

he held his head high and scolded people that had offensive comments. he was strong physically too, he knew how to handle a weapon, how to defend himself against an enemy. all of those things that made a victor a victor.

unfortunately, finnick hadn’t shown you the other side of him. he had never shown anyone. but now, after the announcement of the quarter quell being played with previous victors? he fell apart like a house of cards victim to a harsh wind.

you were barley holding yourself together too. the victory of your games had only come by the fact that the other tribute from your district, your friend, killed the last opponent before himself. it was a long and painful and treacherous game that you had barley made out of alive, forever cursed with the nightmares of the fallen tributes. forever cursed with the thought of death plaguing your mind. forever cursed with the loss of a friend. and forever cursed with the fact that you, a teenager, were seen as desirable to the citizens of the capitol.

little to your knowledge, finnick was cursed with the same tragedy. countless nights the two of you shared the same experience of curling deep into your bed and letting salt stream flow out your eyes and into your ears.

the first time you were aware of your shared experience was the night after president snow had announced that the quarter quell would be played by previous victors. your name was called, then his— finnicks. the two of you were pulled back behind the stage where you broke down on the cold cement floor. it seemed to come naturally, finnick to you. he fell to his knees beside you, muttering soft words of comfort while rubbing your back gently. you noticed the way his hands were wet with his own tears when he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

finnick had been your mentor, he would go as far to say he had been your friend, but when you arrived back from your games with bloodshot eyes and bruised knuckles you disappeared. no one, not even your parents, heard from you for weeks. finnick tried his best to make you come out of the shell of your bedroom but everything seemed to remind you of the games— the bloodbath. and yet he still tried, for what? he didn’t know.

12 hours.

that's how long you, and the other tributes had until you were thrown back into the ring.

you couldn’t sleep. the glass windows looking down onto the capitol somehow made you feel claustrophobic. the bedsheets and clothes provided by that capitol that were supposed to make you feel warm burned and blistered your skin, leaving you to strip into shorts and a tank top, goosebumps speckled your skin but you couldn’t feel them. you were sure you were about to pass out, maybe then you wouldn’t have to fight.

until a soft knock sounded on the metal door.

your breath hitched, you tiptoed over and slowly pulled it open.

there, in all his glory, stood a restless finnick odair. he swallowed, and you could see the redness in his eyes, similar to how yours had once been. “hey… i’m sorry, did i wake you?” his voice was soft, much softer than anything you had ever heard from him.

“no, no, not at all…” you replied with the same tone as his. in an unspoken way, you opened the door to invite finnick in.

his bare feet squeaked against the cold floor but you didn’t say anything.

your throat made a weird noise but he didn’t say anything.

you sat on the bed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. it was weird, finnick standing in your room, looking weak. finnick wasn’t weak, was he?

“i’m really sorry—“ he started. his voice trembled and you frowned. he wasn’t weak, he was scared.

the clothes on your skin suddenly didn’t feel like lava, the bedsheets didn’t feel like fire. and you could tell finnick felt the same way. you patted the spot next to you and he sat down wordlessly.

when he was closer you could see the tears sitting on the edge of his waterline. the way his chin moved as if he was about to cry. your heart broke alongside his. “oh, finnick…” you sighed. the urge was to strong, you reached out and gently tugged his wrist towards you. his big body fell against yours with a sigh. “shh…” a hand went to rub his arm, the other finding its way to his golden hair.

the night went on long and finnick soon found himself positioned between your legs with his head on your chest. your hands in his hair. his hands wrapped around your middle.

it didn’t seem as weird as it should have. it felt natural. just like how it was when he comforted you for the first time. his eyes were shut, focused on the soft drum of your heart. it relaxed you too, his soft hair in between your fingers. “i’m sorry.” the boy finally murmured, his eyes still closed.

“oh finnick, don’t be sorry.” you were so soft with him, he didn’t have to be tough. “i needed this too.” a soft smile spread across your face and you couldn’t deny the way blood rushed to your cheeks when he tightened his grip around your middle.

“tomorrow…” he started, very soft. so soft you almost didn’t hear. “tomorrow i’m gonna promise to protect you, got it?” your heart fluttered.

“yeah, i got it. i’ll protect you too.”

finnick smiled. “thanks.”

and the next day he lived up to his promise, even if it meant a lecture from haymitch afterwards.

#finnick odair #hunger games catching fire #thg finnick #mags flanagan #finnick odair imagine #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair fluff

[lizzietoons]

Everyone’s just a little bit into Finnick

(I want to make it clear that Peeta checking him out is 100000% one sided. Just a little boy crush)

(This is older art! I’m just moving over to tumblr and reposting some of my old stuff.)

#the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #finnick odair #mags flanagan #thg series #catching fire #the hunger games fanart

[racingcore]

need someone to draw that one meme where there is a person holding kids by a leash. but its Finnick in catching fire holding all other allies on leash. cuz damn this man was really tryna just hold it all together from the very start 😭😭

#i didnt get paid enough for this <- probably finnick #finnick odair #wiress #beetee #johanna mason #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #the hunger games #catching fire #the hunger games catching fire #mags flanagan #mags #beetee latier

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

it’s past midnight and i need to sleep but more importantly 

I need to talk about Mags Flanagan from the Hunger Games

Listen. Listen. She might be a minor character who dies halfway through the book she arrives in. But her story is fucking fascinating. 

First of all, since she’s 80 years old during the 75th Annual Hunger Games, she would have been 5 when they started. That means that she’s the only victor we know of that’s guaranteed to have memories of the beginning of the games, not to mention the rebellion itself.

Second, there’s a promotional poster that has a photo of her Victory Tour and the Implications it accidentally has are staggering

her expression and the fact that they dressed her in a military uniform with medals is captivating in its own right but. She’s the victor of the 11th Hunger Games. That doesn’t sound like a big deal but it is.

The 10th Games, featured in The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes, took place in a literal arena. They were the first Games to feature sponsorships and betting, which meant they were the first Games where a tribute’s ability to play to the camera mattered. Lucy Gray, their victor, did not have a victory tour.

Mags Flanagan having the 11th games means that she was the first tribute to know that winning over the audience was a factor from the minute she was Reaped. She was the first tribute with a Victory Tour. It’s likely they she also may have been the first tribute to fight in an arena of the kind that’s shown in the actual Hunger Games trilogy.

So she goes from a witness to the fall of the rebellion and the Capitol’s new horror, to a record-breaking and possibly crowd-favorite Victor. That’s already a lot and we’re only 20% through her life.

She then went on to be a seasoned mentor for Four, possibly shaping it into a Career District. She played the Capitol’s games, while eventually becoming a rebel conspirator.

Speaking of the rebellion-Her district’s victors were far more onboard with fighting against the Capitol than any other Career District. If not for Lyme from District Two (shoutout to Lyme from District Two), Four’s victors would be the only career district victors that actively plotted against the Capitol. Why? When did this start? What was Mags’ hand in it?

I have a million questions about her. Mags Flanagan appreciation please

#The Hunger Games #Hunger Games #mags flanagan #thg renaissance #thg #thg mags #really want to write a fic about her victory tour #it's an interesting era of hunger games history. victors that can all remember a time when the Games never existed #i'm calling it Ticker-Tape Parade

[remusjohnslupin]

GRAPHIC/GIFSET TAG MEME: favourite district ↳ tagging @kvtnisseverdeen ♥

#finnick odair #annie cresta #mags flanagan #thgedit #tbosasedit #filmgifs #moviegifs #fyeahmovies #cinematv #tvandfilm #filmedit #movieedit #tvfilmsource #cinemapix #filmdaily #dailyflicks #the hunger games #thgmine #gifset tag meme

[kald-dal-art]

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

Part 1 / Ko-Fi

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