#thg fanfic

[frolicinaforest]

When The Wolves Howl

District One - Career - Found Family

Florence Désiré is selfish.

Her family pride themselves on being kind-hearted healers, but her sister taught her to break free of her family's strict standards. Florence and Fiona would run wild through the hiking trails and jagged rocks of District One - until Fiona was killed by a wolf, and Florence no longer understood what was expected of her.

Florence threw herself into her training, accepting the opportunity to volunteer for The Hunger Games because she knew she would be able to win. However, there are often wider strategies at play. To be a victor, you must be selfish - but the urge to help can sometimes be as relentless as a pack of wolves.

✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧

It's another exchange fic ! Florence was created for me by a very close friend (Moosey!) and I had a month to turn her story into an entire fic. I hope you enjoy <3

Also, we're exploring the post-100 Games and the idea of the Fallen Victors 👀

[honey-kyun]

despite neither thing having any bearing on my personal life, the lack of religion and sports in Panem really really cramps my writing style sometimes

[writes-too-much]

From the fic writer asks :)

How do you know when you’re finished writing a fic? At what point do you call it done?

I write almost entirely chronologically and then edit once or twice. So technically when that process is done.

BUT

If anyone's followed my old Cashmere fic (now anon since it will eventually be replaced by this much better rendition), you'd know that I published the whole thing in like September 2024, went about 5 months happy with it, took a month to completely rewrite/reorder the last third of the book, went another year happy with it, and then rewrote/re-ordered the last third to its original plot line AND THEN decided I was gonna write the new Cashmere fic bc I still didn't like it enough so...yeah...it never ends I guess?? rip

Thank you for the ask! <3

[sejjiplinth]

i love my arena aus can’t you tell

[writes-too-much]

The Victors as eye colors bc why not???

Cashmere Diives and Gloss Diives

Rhubae Gallrock and Enobaria Fairsmith

Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta

Temper Heavensmark and Icilia Nerry-Lyme

Augustus Braun and Penny Escher

Gemaline Lamont and Hera Ella Plisse

Haymitch Abernathy and Johanna Mason

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark

Brutus Folley and Mags Flannagan

Hudson Poplars and Lennox Clearlee

[fiuworks]

happy birthday, huck....

it was hucks birthday on the 4th...i forgot to post about it but i did celebrate....

and i mean that....cakes and candles brother your life is awful . i thought i'd be a bit nicer to him this year as opposed to my evil drawing last year but it just makes me feel personally evil . i spend too much time thinking about this stupid chud I NEED HIM FLATTENED I FEEL SO AGGRESSIVE

last year:

[lalonderose]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/80091231/chapters/239165326#workskin

chapter 3 of my hunger games fanfic posted!!

[writes-too-much]

A WIP Wednesday in a desperate attempt to force myself to finish this scene:

“She didn’t want to kill. None of us did,” I remind my Victor. “And now they’re running with this narrative that she couldn’t wait to sink her ax into all those kids and I just know it’s tearing her up. Having to lie. Having to own it. It’s no wonder he asked for my help-” I force my mouth shut. I’ve said too much. Dangerously too much. Gus looks over at me, though. It’s the first time in a long few hours that he can actually look at me. I almost count it as a victory in itself, but he doesn’t let his gaze linger long. Not that it was an exactly comforting look to see him wide-eyed, terrified.

“Who asked for your help?” Even with the urgency in his voice, Gus won’t look at me.

I’m tempted to be annoyed by him. At this point, it’s a conscious choice. A slight, even. “You don’t get to ask questions and act like I’m poison,” I bite back. “And I really shouldn’t say either way. The President isn’t a fan of gossip.”

That answers his question but, ironically, only makes him more curious. Gus finally meets my eyes. The relief is immediately. He must notice how I smile, overwhelmed with a tranquil sort of victory, because he scowls. “He thought I might know how to break her,” I offer quietly. The ears in the walls, and maybe cameras, will still catch every word. The least I can do is pretend that I don’t want them to. That I’m being good and hiding my secrets with intention. “He came by in November. Gloss was back...he was out. Snow came to my house on Saturday afternoon and we had tea to talk about it.”

“How did we not see you?” He looks almost ashamed when he realizes. “Or him?”

“He’s sneaky like that.” A snake comes to mind. I don’t dare say it, though.