eleanorjane0690

[eleanorjane0690]

Solidarity In Sonder

Chapter 31

Available on Ao3 June 29th

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

I really hate to be that person, but after the cliff hanger last chapter I keep refreshing ao3 and looking for a post on here.

Can I ask when the new chapter of SiS will be out?

Sorry if this ask is rude

Hi 😊

No, not rude at all, as after all I'm the one who set the four week time frame!

However, while I did copious amounts of research leading up to starting the chapter, and naively thought it'd be a piece of cake, not only is it proving to be a beast, but imo it's also my most ambitious yet.

It's all there in it's raw form and I'm very slowly chipping away at it with meticulous precision. Although, it's still a few days away from being complete. As soon as I get to the final section I'll make a public post.

Thank you for being invested in SIS 🥰 and sorry for keeping you waiting x

[eleanorjane0690]

Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)

Originally from @burkygirl

Thanks for including me @mkweber 🥰 Although, things like this make my brain malfunction and my body convulse with cringe (blame the Brit in me 😂), so instead I asked my kids.

Youngest answered:

I like it when you give me kisses and when you give me squidges.

I like it when you give me nice stuff and pocket money.

I like singing together.

Oldest asnswered:

Your good at handling things.

Your really supportive.

Banter.

[eleanorjane0690]

Solidarity In Sonder

Excerpt from Chapter 30

Autumn '76 - Katniss

Studying his serene face, as minutes lapse by, I begin to discern the differences between my boy with the bread and the magnificent man I can’t breathe without.  Tracing a light loving finger over his regrown eyebrow, while following the arch to brush against his eyelashes, I’m struck by the intensity of my love for the culmination of the two.  

My love. My Peeta.

Nineteen nights ago, I idiotically ignored him hammering on my door and turned a deaf ear to his desperate pleas.  Stewing in anger and disappointment, contemplating the ramifications of the emotional dam bursting, I regretfully realised I wasn’t being fair far too late.  Aware, despite my passionate profession, that thanks to my actions I was running the risk of feeding into the self-held belief he was unlovable, I hightailed it to the porch.  

Reliving the gut wrenching memory of finding it empty and barren, while stroking the tip of my adoring finger down his temple, a shiver shoots up my spine.  Pebbling my skin, gooseflesh covers my body, as I remember how the daunting thought I’d self-sabotaged and destroyed my dandelion in the spring drained the warmth he’d imbued within me away.  

Hopelessly wanting to scream into the night for him to come back, the sensation of air being ripped from my lungs as I crumbled into great wracking sobs leaves me temporarily breathless.  Alone, I ached to confess how the raw newness of eagerly anticipating a future I once wrote off scared me.  How allowing myself to look forward to a life with him on our own terms filled me with dread and excitement in equal measure.  

Dread, because I feared that at any given moment it could be taken away.  Yet recognised, how thanks to acting without thinking, I’d been selfish and possibly created the exact scenario I feared.  Curling my devoted finger around the curve of his cheek bone, devoid of the boyish fullness I can still see within my mind's eye, the same sense of determination that stemmed my tears that night brings a spirited smile to my face.  

Stumbling into the house after regaining my feet, a plan of action began to form.  Indisputably, in an effort to right my wrongs, I knew I needed to put my money where my mouth was.  Knew I needed to show him he was my priority.  Prove to him he’s never been seen as a burden, and act in a way that would ensure I was nothing like his bitterly cold, harsh mother.  

As a result, I promised myself I’d dedicate the rest of my life to treating him with tender-hearted kindness.  Vowed to spend each and every day, from sunup to sun down, striving to make him feel secure.  After all, he is my blessing.  Therefore, he deserves nothing less than to be treated as such.  

Affectionately outlining the hidden dimple bracketing his kissable lips, a breathy titter escapes me while recalling how worked up I became that night.  Pacing around the kitchen, deep in thought, I barely batted an eye at the others returning.  Sullenly waving Sae’s fussing and fretting away, I hissed that I wanted to be left alone. Drunk and exhausted, Johanna thankfully agreed to go up to bed.  

Relieved, I refocused my attention onto the constantly evolving list whirling around in my head.  Surveying Sae and Johanna’s exit from the kitchen, I blocked out their whispered conversation to concentrate on the one I wished to have with Peeta.  Nevertheless, as their whispers erupted into a huge blazing row, I realised talking was dangerous.  Especially for someone like me.  Regardless, obstinately fixed upon enacting my plan, yet mindful I’d most likely get tongue tied and ruin things further, I concluded a different course of action was needed.  

Deciding that as it was my actions that had let me down, it was through them that I needed to seek absolution, I began a new list.  Although, with every new item, my plans became more and more elaborate.  Skimming doting digits over the stubble of his jaw, while thinking back to how I spent an hour berating myself for my baking skills, or lack thereof, I sigh at my own stupidity.  

Ultimately, while watching the sunrise on that fateful Friday morning, I realised it was best to take things back to basics.  To apologise in a way that was authentically me.  As in my heart of hearts, I knew that’s what Peeta would appreciate the most.  Replaying our history in my head, wanting to steer clear of anything tied to the Games, I tried to think of a fitting peace offering.  

Thanks to reminiscing, I toyed with the idea of picking him a bouquet of dandelions.  Considered flourishing the flowers with an explanation of how I’ve never been able to shake the connection between him, the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me I was not doomed during my darkest days.  

Creating a wandering speech, I tried to articulate how their connection had only deepened over the years.  How I’d come to recognise his resilience in the persevering perennials.  Admired how despite their tough environments and challenging conditions, with silent sunshine strength, they both continued to overcome diversity to fill their bleak surroundings with colour.  How both in their own way are responsible for releasing me from nightmares, allowing me to believe in hope, and providing me with a purpose.  

Irregardless, I quickly came to recognize there were a fair few flaws involving such a gift.  Firstly, the need to talk without putting my foot in my mouth.  Secondly, the lack of yellow blooms, as by the time I’d managed to get a seed-head bouquet back to the village it’d be nothing more than a handful of limp wilting stems.  Thirdly, depending on his memory, the possibility of the weed bouquet being tied to the one he presented me with on our way home from the Games.  Let alone the double-sided link to his mother, beatings, and time spent bark raving mad in the pits of 13.

Therefore, as a substitute, I settled upon squirrels.  Personally, I prefer fowl, particularly fatty waterfowl, but the tree-dwelling rodents have been a firm favourite of Peeta’s since childhood.  So, with a plan in mind, I shrugged on my father’s jacket, positioned the quiver across my shoulder, grabbed my bow, and shouted goodbye up the stairs.

Gliding a cherishing caress along the pulse point of his neck, savouring the subtle steady beat beneath my fingers, I recall how mine was anything but on homecoming.  

Handing the diligently dressed squirrels over to Sae, I began to seriously second guess my peace offering.  Purposely preoccupying myself, I spent the rest of the day puttering around the District with Haymitch and Johanna.  Wilfully pretending I wasn’t waiting on bated breath for the outcome of his present.  Steadfastly hoping, that at the very least, they’d let him know I was thinking of him.  While whiling away the hours, repeatedly praying they’d be enough to prevent a full blown frost from setting in.  

Softly squeezing his entwined hand, I thank the stars for the billionth time that they were.  As if I were a more fanciful person, I’d almost believe they’d aligned solely for me that Friday evening.  Because without a shadow of a doubt, fleeing Sae and Johanna’s never ending argument to find Peeta on my porch, was the answer to all my prayers. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

AO3 - CHAPTER 1

Coriolanus Snow x Original Female Character

What if he had lost the 10th Hunger Games?

This work is dedicated to the lovely @eleanorjane0690 whose encouragement and endless support, as well as her own story - Solidarity In Sonder, inspired me to write my most ambitious fic yet. 🤍

"To Mr. Coriolanus Snow,

In light of your conduct and outcome during the 10th Annual Hunger Games, and following internal review by the University Placement Board, your application for the Capitol Leadership Initiative has been formally revoked. All previous credits earned through non-traditional field study at the Academy are hereby expunged.

Your application to re-enroll may be reconsidered after a waiting period of no less than three years, and only upon submission of a revised personal ethics statement and a letter of recommendation from a standing Academy official in good trust.

Please note that reinstatement is also contingent upon full financial sponsorship or proof of independent funds sufficient to cover tuition and housing for the duration of the program.

The Capitol expects more.

– Placement Board Office, University of Panem

I read it once, then again, the words imprinting themselves into the marrow of my mind, each repetition more surgical than the last. Then I fold the letter back along its creases—neatly, of course—and place it where I can’t see it.

The Capitol expects more.

More of what, precisely? More obedience? More brilliance? More charm dressed as conviction, more cruelty trimmed in silk? More carefully rationed ethics, decanted and served like ideology at a Chancellor’s dinner table?

I gave them everything.

I gave them Lucy Gray.

The name slithers unbidden into my consciousness, unwelcome and familiar, dragging behind it the scent of pine needles and rebellion, and the sound of her voice threading through the bars, echoing in the pit, in the dark, in my head. “You're not free until the Capitol says you're free.” She had said that to me once, or perhaps I dreamed it, in that sickening liminal space between strategy and sentiment, where I could no longer tell whether I was leading her or being led.

Lucy Gray Baird.

Not just a tribute. Not just an assignment. Something else. Danger. A mirror I didn’t know was a mirror until I saw the cracks.

There had been a moment in the arena—brief, veiled in shadow—when I believed myself not a mentor but a god. When she looked up at me from the dust and the dirt and the blood, and I believed she owed me survival. Believed she belonged to me, because I had bent the system, because I had played the game, because I had turned the rules to ash and to make her victory a monument to my own ingenuity. But the truth was simpler, more brutal.

She could’ve survived in spite of me.

And when she was gone - when the cannon fired and her body was left sprawled in the dirt like a broken lyric, blood darkening the same ground she could have danced across with theatrical grace and maddening unpredictability under different circumstances —I stood there, above it all, watching the screens flicker, and realized there would be no redemption. No clever pivot. No miraculous victory to salvage the narrative I had so carefully constructed from threads of desperation and pride. She died in the arena. On my watch. Under my guidance. In a system I thought I could outwit. And with her went the last of my illusions. Her death was not noble. It was not necessary. It was useless.

The Games ended, and I did not win. She did not win. And for that, the Capitol decided we had both failed."

[eleanorjane0690]

Need Suzanne Collins to write another book post mockingjay and sotr epilogue where it's just Haymitch and Effie healing from their trauma and trying to help their adoptive kids to heal their trauma too

[eleanorjane0690]

Now Available

Solidarity In Sonder

Chapter 30

Available on Ao3 May 25th

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

Solidarity In Sonder

Chapter 30

Available on Ao3 May 25th

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

Thank you for the tag @kiteverlark 🥰

Tagging: @howdyjourney @karottenbackcreme @evelinaecru @kitty-everdeen @mkweber

Camera Roll Tag Game

Post 4-6 non-selfie photos from your camera roll. I was tagged by @wedriftlikelonelyplanets thank you!

Tagging (if you want to!): @lord-aldhelm @mollywog @paula-in-dreamland @holy3cake

@somebirdortheother @freddiecorleone @thesunpersists @samwpmarleau @antoine-triplett

@mega-aulover @shewakessupwiththesun @arthdoesart @kneesofthebee @rarepairheathen @districtunrest and anyone who would like to, please play!❤️

[eleanorjane0690]

Solidarity in Sonder has just reached 7.5K hits!

To some this may seem like a lot, to others this may seem like nothing at all. To me, I still remember the elation of reaching double digits.

Honestly, I cant thank each and every reader enough for following along with the movie playing in my head. It still amazes me that you take time out of your day to engage.

Genuinely, your support means more than you'll ever know 🥰

So, from the very bottom of my heart, thank you ❤️

Much love, as always x

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

Solidarity In Sonder

Excerpt from Chapter 29

Autumn '76 - Peeta

Awkwardly spasming backwards, clutching the book to my chest, I glance up.  Silver eyes alight with euphoria, she grins down, seemingly a tad amused at my startled reaction.  Straightening up, reassured she appears happy to see me, I reciprocate her smile. 

Darting her line of sight down, a cute little furrow crests her raised brow.  Keenly aware I’m under surveillance, to no avail, I try to quell the tremble in my hand. 

Looking up from the low hanging hamper, some of the euphoria ebbing from her eyes, she asks “What are you doing?”

“I…I came to drop these off.” I breathlessly stammer, as my stomach ties itself into knots and the copious amount of tea I consumed with Wyatt rises to leave a bitter taste in the back of my throat “To say thank you for the squirrels.” 

“And you were just going to knock-a-door run?” she wistfully murmurs, her bottom lip pouting as she wraps an arm around her ribs.  

There's no point in pretending, she’s far too perceptive, or trying to smooth talk my way out of it, as she’s fed up with pretty little words.  At the same time, I self-consciously don’t want to confess to being a coward.   

“No, I…well…” I fecklessly flounder, frustrated with my lagging tongue.    

Shaking my head in self-reproach, I heavily exhale my nerves.  Gently nodding in the direction of a distant Jo, angrily hammering on the kitchen table mid-tirade,  I admit “I didn’t want to disturb supper…or whatever that is.” 

Swiftly peeking over her shoulder, on turning back to me, she scowls “Sae and Jo are at loggerheads.”  

“Supper with a show, is it?” I smile, thankfully sounding more confident than I feel.  

Rolling her eyes, she scoffs “Supper and a headache more like.” 

Bowing slightly, as I timidly titter, she hovers above the hamper and sniffs the air.  Bolting upright, stunning face radiating joy, she exclaims “Are they…”  

“Cheese buns.” I cut in, proffering her the basket, lovingly packed with her favourite baked goods.    

Reverently accepting the reciprocal peace offering, she softly smiles “Thank you.” 

Wanting to broach the difficult subject of last night, yet determined not to apply undue pressure onto her, especially with Sae and Johanna going at it tooth and nail in the background, I uneasily sway on the spot.  Second nature, as I try to decipher how to delicately word my humble request, the hand previously holding the hamper finds my hair.        

Running it along the curve of my skull, as I begin to self-soothe, Katniss meekly mumbles “Sit with me a spell while they tire themselves out?”

Suppressing a sigh of relief, as my arm falls and some of the tension resolves in my taut muscles, I grin “I’d love to.” 

Shutting the front door, thankfully dampening the sonorous squabble inside, she gestures to the small porch swing.  Perching upon the wooden-slatted seat, I apprehensively watch, as with feline poise she follows suit.  Unable to take my eyes off her, as she folds over to set the hamper by her feet, I have to fight the urge to tenderly touch the small of her back.  

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

Thank you so much @tryingssss 🥰

Tagging: @karottenbackcreme @evelinaecru @howdyjourney

hey, did you know that the world is a better place because of your creations and art and writing, no matter how niche or how many people see it

[eleanorjane0690]

Now Available

Solidarity In Sonder

Chapter 29

Available on Ao3 April 27th

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

Solidarity In Sonder

Chapter 29

Available on Ao3 April 27th

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

Thanks for the tag @howdyjourney

Either a peacock (they remind me of happy childhood memories), or a magpie, as they're my favourite bird species, the rhyme lives rent free in my head, and I can't pass one with out leaning in to all my superstitions and saluting.

During the week, dress and tights, on a weekend my Dermot Kennedy hoodie and leggings.

For the area of the world I live in, I'd say a dryad (my daughter would probably say a witch 😂)

I used to chop and change a lot due to different inspirations. Now, if I like something, I buy it, I wear it!

I'm not a lover of milk and only add a splash to coffee, otherwise I avoid it.

Without a doubt cereal first!

Erm... 🤔 I remember reading The Last Don by Mario Puzo and having to ask my Grandad what a garrote was, so if I had the strength I'd go for that. If not and I had the skill set, a car bomb ala Casino. Failing that, point blank range to the head with a gun (I have shit aim!)

Tagging: @evelinaecru @mkweber @kitty-everdeen

yk what I'll also do this get to know your mutuals cuz I thought bout it for a bit and I think I have to or I'll explode

get to know your mutuals♡

if you could be any animal which one would you choose to be? (can be fictional) (and you can explain why if you want to)

what would you choose when you're in a hurry and have nothing to wear?

are you a witch, vampire, fairy, dryad, siren or a mermaid and why do you think so?

what is your style?

regular milk or plant based milk?

which one do you put first milk or cereal?

fav way to kill someone? (idgaf if you never thought of it now you have to think of something and make it at least a bit cool I'm begging)

and I'll go first cuz I can

girl I wrote kinda a lot in these answers but I just had to brag about my fav way of killing people🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ and okay maybe it's kinda stupid that I'm also doing this game even tho I made it for others but who cares?

I can't choose but either a phoenix or a wolf cuz the allegory of both of these animals absolutely stole my heart

anything in my wardrobe that looks good (and it's almost always not adequate for the cold weather, I literally can wear a mini skirt when it's like 2°C outside and there are times when I am wearing a mini skirt and a crop top when it is 0°C and even when it was -3°C I don't care)

something in between vampire and a dryad cuz I feel like I would be a good vampire I don't know how to describe it but I just know and that's it and also a dryad cuz when I think of them they give me rather a messy and chaotic vibe which is def how I act and overall express myself so I'd say that I'm sometimes both sometimes one and sometimes the other

I'm goth so my style is overall gothic and / or cunty

regular but only 1,5% fat

CEREAL

sooo this is my fav way, first - pepper spray in the face so they can't see and therefore they can't run away, second - start scratching their legs with a pocket knife as hard as possible and try to find an aorta and cut there (making it even harder to run away), third - stick the same knife into all of their fingers (why not), fourth - knock out their teeth with a knuckle duster and finally - when they open their mouth trying to catch a breath from the blood and saliva running into their throat pour fluoroantimonic acid into their mouth and it's done! and I'll add that fluoroantimonic acid is called the most corrosive acid in the world ans if it touches the skin it causes huge damage and if poured into someones throat it'll burn the insides and kill. I think I'm really creative cuz I came up with this when I was writing one of my books and now I'm obsessed

tags: @n1eprzytomnadesperacja @niketas-s @r4tkisses @dawkacynizmu @gothicm0rph @slowacki006

and with question 7 rn I'm mostly thinking about one bbg ( @dawkacynizmu I'm looking at you ) cuz a bit after I came up with this question I thought that you might have an interesting answer

[eleanorjane0690]

Solidarity In Sonder

Excerpt from Chapter 28

Autumn '76 - Katniss

Expectantly eyeballing me, to let Sae know I’ve heard her loud and clear, I scoop a forkful of mash into my mouth and make a show of chewing.  Swallowing, it sticks in my throat.  Nevertheless, bit by bit, until my shrunken stomach feels fit to burst, I finish my meal. 

All the while, Puck pitifully whines under my feet for holding out on him.  Loathed to fall out of his good grace’s, the moment Sae vacates the table, ordering Delly and Nettie to start collecting the dishes, I slip him a sizable chunk of chicken.

“I saw that!” Sae calls, flicking washing up water over me “An’ ‘cause of it ya can be on dryin’ duty.”

Kindly commenting she’s already done enough for the day, Delly shoos Sae away from the sink as I meander over to the drying rack. On par with Johanna speaking for me, one thing I’ve come to love about Delly is she speaks incessantly, so I don’t even have to try.  Umming and ahhing where appropriate, while we work in tandem, Delly gossips a mile a minute.  

Seemingly in touch with all the ins and outs of District life, before I’ve even finished drying the cutlery, I know all the salacious details surrounding Juniper shacking up with one of the Capitol construction workers.  Apparently old Ms Belleau has been very vocal in voicing her opinion.  Telling anyone who’ll listen that she’s positive Juniper is only leading him on to jump the queue when it comes to the new brick built properties.  Finding this highly doubtful, as to jump the queue she’d be better off shacking up with Jock, let alone the fact they’re still a long way off being finished, Delly remarks seeing as Juniper appears genuinely happy, old Ms Belleau should just mind her own business.  

Exercising my exceptional newfound self-restraint, I don't bother commenting that maybe she should follow her own advice.  Instead, I start drying the dishes as she prattles on about the grand opening planned for the Triage Centre in a fortnight's time.  Excitedly, Delly imparts she’s heard on the grapevine from Cee-Cee that it’ll be recorded for a Capitol news segment.           

“Right,” Peeta almost shouts, interrupting Delly idiotically asking me if I’ll be in attendance “present time.” 

Chair legs irritatingly scraping against stone, slapping his thighs and rising from the table, Peeta abandons his conversation with Sae, Johanna, and Thom.  Ruffling Nettie’s hair as she sets up the chess set for her and Rowan, he wanders over to the canvas and peeks under the cover.  

Sat in one of the fireside rockers, sipping on whiskey with Jock, Haymitch jests “Ain't that meant to be mine?”

“I just wanted to make sure it hadn’t smudged.” Peeta responds, letting the fabric fall “I made sure to fix it, but you can never be too cautious.” 

Intrigued, while cocking a brow, Haymitch asks “And?” 

“It’s perfect…well about as perfect as I can make it.” Peeta says, carefully lifting the canvas “Would you like to unveil it Katniss?” 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56641270/chapters/147201754

[eleanorjane0690]

Apart from the hunger games are there any other fandoms you're in to?

I'm not sure if it could be classed as a fandom, as it's a term I've only recently started using since joining AO3, but aside from THG books the only other series that has captured me in a death grip is the Noughts and Crosses saga by Malorie Blackman.

I highly highly recommend reading the books if you haven't. However, to say I consider THG movies a comfort watch (despite missing the mark in a lot of respects) I do not recommend watching the BBC adaptation.

On the other hand, the books blew my mind as a teenager, have stuck with me ever since, and while my friends were rushing out to buy the latest HP books I was the oddball buzzing about N&C. Thinking about it, Sephy and Callum's dual narrative is most likely what inspired me to do the same with Katniss and Peeta in SIS.

Seriously, I can't overstate how criminally underappreciated these books are!!

Thank you for the ask 😊