DEH Oneshots/drabbles/shitposts

The Odds (Murphy Siblings)

"It's a shame. I thought I'd have something to work with, but you, my darling, are beyond repair." He shoved me back down, his eyes glimmering in annoyance. "Stay still, doll face. You don't want the president to think you're a peasant, now, do you? I know your brother wouldn't be too happy if you showed up to the tribute parade in a hospital gown."

His name was Rosmond, he was my stylist, and, oh my god he was such a bitch.

"I don't think my brother would be too happy, anyway." I crossed my arms, my eyes rolling to the side. I avoided his gaze. He'd had these contacts in. They were a deep purple, something unattainable in district seven. They were like tiny lasers that burned through my flesh with his poisonous words.

"Tragic. A hunk like him being such a downer isn't something I'd normally foresee." Rosmond sat me up, aggressively tying my hair into a long, float braid. He pinned the extra strands behind my ears, humming a little tune. "I mean, certainly you'd know he'd get reaped at one point. He'd had his name put in that jar so many times, one might say he wanted it."

"Rosmond, talk about my brother like that, and the bloodbath won't host the first casualty this Hunger Games." I stayed still, hoping he'd finish sooner. I didn't want to be there. He knew it. He just wanted me to be miserable.

Rosmond was originally from District One, or at least, he designed there, but Seven's stylist had recently retired, and dice he was climbing up in age, he was booted down to Seven. He just wants to make sure I am aware of his utter distaste for our sad, little supply of lumber to offer as his muse. "Don't threaten someone with a pair of scissors, darling."

"Like I'm not gonna die anyway," I spat, crossing my arms as he finished up my hair. I winced as he pulled it tight against my head, spinning me around.

Rosmond placed his hand on my shoulder, a grimace on his dark, wrinkled face. "Shut your eyes and don't complain. It's an honor to be here; to die for your district."

"So you agree?" I shut my eyes, leaning back against the wall. I feel a soft substance touch my eyelids, which I can only assume to be vibrant eyeshadow to is so my dark brown, form fitting evening gown. "That I have no chance?"

"I never said that, Doll." Rosmond began working on the other eye, resting his wrist in my nose. I frowned shyly. He smelled like roses and vanilla.

Another luxury I couldn't afford.

"Then what are you saying, Ros?" I inured, opening my eyes so he could lay some more pigment under my eyes. I gripped the table under me, my lips stuck in a frown.

"Zoe, first off, don't call me that, and second," he took a breath, backing up to look me in the eyes. His purple contacts met my boring eyes, and I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. "I'm obligated to root for the district I represent, babe, but you've got a fire. Something beautiful is stuck in your heart, just waiting to be set free. Let your guard down, make friends, and stay alive. That's how you win."

"How do I make friends?" I broke our gaze, my gaze dropping to my shaking fingers.

"Don't threaten your stylist." Rosmond began applying a dark taupe color to my lips, smiling at me with a genuine smile. "You let your guard down before the games. You don't want your only ally to be your brother."

"You say this like you've done it before."

"I'm giving you District One tactics, Zoe. Use them." He backed away, admiring his handiwork. He threw the brush in a box, and threw the box in a purple bag. "You're all set, sweetheart. Would you like to see your brother?"

I nodded, looking down at the tight dress. It was a dark brown shade, with the slightest bit of crimson undertones. It was beautiful, something that I never would have even dreamt of wearing before I was reaped. I pulled my hair to the side, the braid cascading down my shoulder in a soft waterfall. I smiled, slightly. "Yeah, I'd like to see my brother."

—

The walk down the hall was short, even in these heels that they forced my feet into. The walls were a drab shade of gray silver, and the lights made everything blue. It wasn't natural like back home, where our only light was the candlelight and the sun that shone through the window every day. All we had as fire and that floating orb in the sky. There were no fluorescent lightbulbs and happy men and women with intense amounts of makeup running around and making having fun,

They didn't realize that for them, the tiniest luxury was being wasted on people who never knew what it was like outside the walls.

I knocked on the door, Rosmond behind me as my skinny fingers shook against the platinum. "Connor?" I called, careful not to ruin my makeup.

"Is Rosmond with you?" He asked through the wall, clear annoyance in his tone.

I frowned, pressing my palm against the door. "Yeah, He is," I called, attempting to ease Connor the slightest bit.

"Tell him to get lost." Connor's voice was loud and upset, a clear sign to Rosmond that he should leave. "Con, he's gonna get a guard, Okay? Just... open up. The tribute parade is in an hour."

The door opened, slightly, and Connor pulled me through before shutting it. He pulled into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around me protectively. He petted the back of my braided hair, his eyes gazed with tears. "I don't want to go to the tribute parade, Zo." He backed away, wiping his eyes as he got a look at me. "You're my baby sister, Zoe, and if we go out there now... if we show ourselves as tributes, then we become tributes. I can't do this... I don't want to be some sacrifice!"

"You think I do?" I stepped forward, wiping the tears from his panicked cheeks. "Rosmond worked long and hard on your face, Connor Murphy, you do not get to mess this up now!" My fingers wrapped around his forest green sleeves, shaking him slightly. "Look at me, Con. I don't care what you do, as long as it's not this. At least you have a chance in the Games. If you refuse now, they'll execute you."

"They can't do that. They need a tribute."

"They'll reap someone else, you idiot!" I shook my head, cupping his face in my hands. "If you don't go, they will rig it. They will purposefully reap every single one of your friends, year after year, until they're all gone." I smiled at him, sadly, wiping tears from my eyes too. "I want you to have a chance, Connor, so you're going to go out there with me, and we are going to make some friends, and make people like us, and then, maybe, just maybe, one of us might get to walk away from this in two weeks."

"I don't want it to be just one of us, Zoe."

I could feel my face pale as I pulled him into a tight hug. "I know, Connor. I know."

—a/n—

TBC guys you think I'm gonna do a hunger games au and not include death ? Fuck no.

Anywho this is for the WL on the DEH amino and shout out to Alec who said they'd follow my wp because I sent a few paragraphs of him to the WL critique chat

Aight that's all

I love you my Carcrashovercastyoungbloods (I actually had to type that because of a new phone rip)

-Emily aka Foblvr