#at the price of the districts starving... :

[clemencetaught]

"Here," it's... it's just bread. It's a bun, sure large enough to still some amount of hunger, but it's just bread. And yet, María holds it in front of Patrick with the face of someone who'd consider it a criminal offense to refuse it. Nevermind that she's stolen it from one of the banquets. "Just making sure you're eating." ((RUH-ROH it's Len again~ and I promise I forgot about the Peeta bread thing until I re-read this IGNORE THAT--!! FDKLGJDLAJSGF Hope you didn't end up getting sick BUT IF YOU DID HOPE YOU'RE RESTING AND FEELING BETTER SOON 🥺)) || okay but panem is also known as the nation of bread & circuses– ( unprompted w/ @mythvoiced )

He doesn’t eat much in the Capitol. 

Which is ironic, seeing how most of his life before the games, Patrick was always hungry. Always trying between schooling and factory shifts to figure out when his next meal was going to come. Why else would he and Hyuk have taken out tesserae all those years ago? It was preferable, playing the odds in the Reaping to starving for the rest of the year.

Nowadays, food is the least of his concerns. Whereas there is still a dearth in District Three, there is surplus in the Capitol. No surplus isn’t the right word; a surplus would mean the Capitol keeps the extra for the future. No, there is an excess of food in the Capitol, an excess that is dumped and left to rot after the pigs have had their share, have had their fun.

When he remembers that, food in the Capitol, no matter how finely it’s been prepared, becomes disgusting. Repulsive when it is combined with the thought of the districts, his people, still starving and fighting one another for the Capitol’s ‘scraps’. One plate is enough for Patrick to feel the bile swish in his stomach and even crawl back up his throat– how is he supposed to enjoy this filth now?

(But of course the Capitol has a way of perverting everything. Who else would have invented a liquid that makes one vomit what was just digested to make room for more food?)

“You didn’t have to,” is the first set of words to come out of his mouth, however. It’s such a childish gesture on her part; as a victor, she and her family should have more than enough riches to cover for food whether she’s in the Capitol or her own district. That and it’s considered normal to take leftovers from these banquets.

And yet, she’s staring him down like they are in covenance– it’s odd…strange how the things the Capitol deem sacred, she’ll approach with the irreverence of a foreigner and yet with the most mundane of objects, like a loaf of bread, most likely one of the hundred baked today and will be replicated tomorrow, like it is worth the weight of gold. He takes a hold of María’s loot. The loaf is still warm, freshly out of the oven, he wants to believe. Like it came from one of the bakeries in say, District 12, rather than a Capitol banquet table. Does she look at the Capitol and its elaborate feasts the same way? District Eight is probably just as bad if not even worse than his own district when it comes to food shortages so maybe her thievery makes sense.

When one has gone without food for long enough, no amount of surplus is enough to satiate the insecurity. He knows that feeling all too well. His stomach growls in anticipation. “…Normally, the Capitol likes to have this with caviar.” A delicacy from District Four along with butter shipped from District Ten. He splits the loaf in two, the inside crackling and breaking into two crisp pieces. “But I think…I think it tastes just as delicious on its own.” He hands María one half while taking a bite out of the other. “Take the other half; I can’t finish it on my own.”

It tastes delicious. 

[princessbellecerise]

Sweet Like Sugar

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | In which you’re Coryo’s sugar baby

warnings | smut, sugar daddy!coryo, slight public sex

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

You’re not sure what to say at first when Coryo proposes this idea to you, but you have to say that you’re shocked

You’re nothing more than a district girl, having been raised in not quite poverty but not abundance either

You’ve never had anything other than the bare minimum, so when Snow offers to give you the world and to take care of your family as well?

Well, it’s obvious what you choose

Quickly, you end up being transported from your district to the Capitol in no time. While your family is given a high rise apartment and grocery deliveries every month, you’re given your own space; a house not too far from his own mansion

Snow likes to keep you close, as he does with all of his prized possessions

And first things first, you’re spoiled

There’s no one in Panem that has more than you, no one that has more jewels, clothes, makeup, etc. Not even Coriolanus himself

He takes such good care of you, making sure that you want for nothing and that you have everything you need

He’s surprisingly generous; but you both know that it doesn’t come without a cost

The world outside of the capitol is a harsh one; one that you desperately don’t want to experience again. You’ve seen people starving to death or being maimed by wild animals in your district and you do not wish to live that kind of life. You’re content, comfortable with how you live so any price he states, you pay

Usually it comes in the form of Coryo being on top of you, a hand around your pretty little neck while he fucks you on his desk

Or, sometimes it’s in his room, with your face stuffed into his luxurious pillows as he fucks you from behind

One way or another, he uses you like you use him. Whenever and however he pleases

You don’t mind of course, loving the way you’re bouncing on his cock one minute and then the next he’s buying you a diamond necklace

He likes for you to get dolled up for him, so he can show you off and make everyone around him jealous

He sees the way they look at you, and the way other men and even women envy him. He knows that they’d give to have you but they can’t. They can’t afford you

Sugar daddy!Coryo that always makes you call him ‘sir.’ He tell you that it’s the proper way to address him as he is the president, but really he just likes the way it sounds coming from your pretty little lips

Often times, he’ll call you nicknames such as ‘Doll,’ or ‘Pretty Girl’

They’re fitting seeing as you’re always dressed up, whether that be in fancy dresses or silk night gowns that he’s specifically picked out for you to wear

Sugar daddy!Coryo that takes you out for fancy dinners, only to end up fucking you in the bathroom like he’s a commoner. He always hates when he looses his self control like that but fuck—sometimes you just look so good that he can’t help but to stoop to that level

Sugar daddy!Coryo that kisses you desperately in some random bathroom stall, that has you pressed up against him and can’t stop rambling about how hard he is

Coryo that has you stepping out of that expensive dress in no time, even tearing it a little so he can reveal your pretty cunt

You’re always wet for him, always so eager and that’s what Coryo loves

He loves the feeling of you wrapped around him, moaning his name and begging him to let you cum

Of course, before it even reaches that point, he also has you on your knees, sucking him off to try and relive some of his desperation

Even after everything, Coryo likes to think that he’s a gentleman, so of course he lays his jacket on the floor so your knees won’t be hurting

It’s the least he can do because fuck—you always have him cumming in no time, and again once he’s fucking into your tight cunt

He never cums inside of you, always on your tits or in your mouth

He just loves the way that you look up at him, pretty face coated with his seed. He always take a few seconds to admire you before cleaning you up, making sure you’re presentable once again before finally settling down at your table, thirty minutes later

And of course, before he takes you home for the night, he also makes sure to fuck you one last time in his fancy limousine, windows fogging up and all of Panem having no clue what’s happening behind those tinted windows

[writing-zelda-brainrots]

The Apothecary’s Travel Guide Chapter 1

Quickly, before we begin, I want to set some things straight about this little fic series.

This fic will use Fem!Reader in both pronouns and body descriptions. I usually stick to gender neutral stuff, but this fic just works better with a female main character in mind (or at least I think so).

While I won’t be going into actual nsfw stuff (maybe in the future, I haven’t decided), this fic will still contain sexual themes and scenarios. This fic is meant for older teens and up. I don’t write with a young audience in mind, both for this fic and in general.

For those of you who are not familiar with The Apothecary Diaries (wtf are you doing here, go watch it), the series takes place in a fictional version of Imperial China. You don’t absolutely need to watch it to read this fic, but you will have a better understanding of things if you have (also, it’s just a really good show, very well written with one of the best female protags I’ve ever seen).

Also, this fic starts before Sunset, so the whole “Twilight is Wolfie” and “Hyrule can heal” things are not known yet.

–

It felt a little strange to be back in the busy streets of the pleasure district after spending months in the rear palace. But it was the good kind of strange. The smell of grilled meat skewers that you missed so much, the paper lanterns hanging overhead, people haggling for better prices in the street side shops, playing games on the side of the road, or drinking tea in teahouses. And of course, beautiful women calling men over to offer ‘special services’ in the many brothels.

It’s a sight you’re all too familiar with. Having grown up here, raised by the women of the famous Verdigris House, these things did not phase you. One would think that working in the palace would be quite the change of pace, but if there’s one thing that you’ve learned over the past however many months, it is that the palace and brothels aren’t all that different. A beautiful caged garden full of flowers for the emperor to enjoy looking upon.

In truth, if you had the choice, you would not want to have anything to do with the imperial palace, but given your situation, what could you do? You certainly didn’t ask to be kidnapped and sold off to the palace back then and you didn’t ask to be promoted to lady in waiting to one of the four highest ranking concubines. You were doing just fine as an apothecary back in the pleasure district, thank you very much.

You had originally attempted to stay low, worked as a simple, low ranking servant until your contract expired and then head home. You hid any signs of value that could get you promoted; you hid your ability to read and write, as well as hid your ‘true beauty’ so you wouldn’t become a concubine (even if a servant could only ever become a low ranking concubine). Any extra money you would have earned  from those promotions would just be swiped by your kidnappers, anyway. At least you still got paid for your regular work.

Had things originally gone according to your plan, you would have worked hard and been released within three years. However, now that goal post has been moved quite a bit.

But you shouldn't be thinking about work right now; it was your day off, after all. You were back home (after managing to haggle your way into them letting you leave the palace) and that’s all that matters right now.

I should get some radishes and chicken for soup tonight. You thought as you walked down the street of the makeshift market. You hoped that your father had been eating well. He was never all that good at feeding himself. If he was starving for a few days, the old lady from the Verdigris House would force something down his throat.

Speaking of the Verdigris House, you should probably head there later. Both to say hello to your ‘big sisters,’ but also so you could take a bath there. They’d likely want some medicine, too, now that you thought about it. The last time you delivered medicine there was the day you got kidnapped.

Heh. Even on my day off I’m running errands.

With your little morning shopping excursion done, you stuffed the ingredients into the basket you carried on your back and started heading to that familiar little shack you affectionately called home. Dad should be in the fields tending to the plants right now. Honestly, he was getting too old for that trek, especially with his busted knee, but you couldn’t deny that he loved that little garden he’s cultivated over the years. Not like you were any different when it comes to your passion for medicinal herbs. As your master, he taught you everything you know about medicine; what herbs work in which situations, what to use and what to avoid, how to make medicine, what plants, mushrooms and animals were poisonous and which weren’t, etc. He was a very learned man, having studied both eastern and western medicine. With a few more years of teaching, you might be as good as him, or you hoped so, at least.

Finally you reached the calm little neighbourhood you grew up in. It was on the very outskirts of the city, not even protected by the tall stone brick walls. Looking at the small sizes of the houses, barely larger than your average shack, told people that this was where the poor lived. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Truth be told, your father was an excellent medical expert, even having worked in the palace before from what you’ve heard, but for all his skill and knowledge, he had terrible luck, which is why he ended up living here instead of somewhere more fitting for his stature.

But when you got to your little childhood home, you were met with a worrying sight. A woman you didn’t recognise, worry and uncertainty written on her face, knocking on the front door of your home. That’s strange, did she need medicine? You didn’t recognise her servant uniform, but she seemed to be from one of the inns in the area.

You called out, catching her attention immediately. “Are you looking for the apothecary? He’s currently out, but I can leave him a message.”

“Please help, it’s a medical emergency! Someone’s been poisoned!”

Your face immediately turned serious as you dropped your belongings before running inside the shack to retrieve an emergency med kit. “Lead me to them.”

--

People had gathered around the doorway of the inn, clearly all in a panic, but not sure on what to do.

“I brought the apothecary. Please step out of the way.” The two of you moved past the seemingly small army of staff and patrons.

What you saw seemed to match what the woman had told you before. A man lying on the bed, restless, breathing erratically, hands clenching at the fabric of his clothes right over his heart. Immediately you entered your ‘work mode,’ practically diving next to the man. First, a physical check up.

You pried open the man’s eyes, looking into them; you checked his pulse and stuck a finger into his mouth. Judging from the spittle running down his chin and trace amounts of sick on the bed sheets and his blue scarf, it’s safe to say that he had vomited. Still, you pressed down on his solar plexus to induce more of it. It would help expel whatever caused this reaction, but it would also dehydrate him. There was a hrrk, and spit came pouring out of his mouth, which you wiped away with the bedsheets you had gripped.

Suddenly, a new man with brown hair and eyes came running through the door with what seemed to be a waterskin in his hands.

He was just about to offer the water to the man you were tending to, but you shouted at him: “Don’t let him drink that! Charcoal- we need charcoal!” The startled man dropped the item onto the floor, but recovered just as quickly, running off once again to retrieve the required item.

You repeated this process several times on the victim; making him vomit, wiping the bile away ad nauseum until nothing but stomach acid came out. The man was able to breathe much easier now, no longer hyperventilating. Thankfully, at your request, the charcoal had arrived just in time, which you quickly ground up with your mortar and pestle.

“This’ll be rough on his throat, but it’ll flush the toxins out of his body.” You spoke as you poured the fine powder into his mouth. Some of the men, who you assumed to be the patient’s associates, had gathered around the two of you, clearly worried.

“Wa… Water. Please…” Those were the first words you heard him speak, weak, but nonetheless a sign that he was recovering.

“Not yet. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to endure this a little bit longer.”

Though unhappy, he accepted and resigned himself to his scratchy and dry throat for the time being. Finally you were able to remove yourself from the bedside, letting the other men move the patient while the inn’s servant ladies removed the soiled linens.

First damn thing in the morning and I already have to deal with an emergency. I only just got back. You grumbled in your mind as you looked at your filthy hand. Ugh. I really need a bath. You sighed both from relief and exhaustion.

“You doin’ okay, Captain?” One of the taller men with brown hair asked while holding him up so he could stand.

The patient - now identified as ‘Captain’ - took a breath. “Much better.” He then turned his attention towards you. “Thank you. I was certain that I was a goner.”

“I am simply doing my job. There is no need to thank me.” Utilising some water in a pitcher that one of the servants offered, you wiped your hands with a damp cloth.

You then took out a wooden slip, wrote just a couple characters on it and handed it over to the servant woman who you first encountered. “Deliver this to doctor Luomen and bring him here. He should be by the south wall.”

With that, the servant gave you and everyone else in the room a small bow before leaving.

The man with a blue hat turned his attention to the patient, who had once again been laid down onto the cleaned up bed. “Now I know that stuff took you out; you didn’t even try to flirt with your “guardian angel”.”

“So that’s your impression of me?” The sarcasm in his voice was evident. “Glad to know that it took me almost kicking the bucket to change your opinion.”

--

Within about half an hour, the servant had returned, your father in tow. It took longer than you had hoped, but given your father’s age and condition, it wasn’t all that surprising.

He took a good look at the patient and asked some questions.

“I suppose you did an adequate job here.” He gave you his trademark gentle smile after he was done with his examination.

“‘Adequate’?” You ask, annoyed.

A man who you assumed to be the owner of the inn came into the room. “Thank you, doctor Luomen. You are the best medical expert one could ask for.”

“Don’t thank me. My daughter did all the hard work.”

“Tell me, how much do we owe you? Name your price.”

“There’s really no need-”

You nudge your father’s side with your elbow. “Can you pay rent this month?”

“Ah… Well, in that case, I’ll take the usual fee.”

This was one of his habits; undercharging for his work, or even failing to charge at all, much to your distress. You understood the desire not to take money from people who were already struggling to get by, but this was not the case.

A tall blond man in heavy armour came up to you, holding out a small-ish sack. “Please, allow us to reimburse you as well. We owe you a lot.” Seeing no reason not to, you accepted the item.

With that, your father and the inn’s owner head into another room to discuss payment, leaving you to gather up your tools.

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed a few of the men fidgeting nervously or giving each other glances. They obviously wanted to say something. You didn’t know why they were hesitating. Sure, you might have sharp, mean-looking eyes and you didn’t smile all the time, but there’s no reason for these numerous grown men to act like this around you.

“Can I help you?” You broke the ice. No point in delaying this.

The one who you assumed to be the leader cleared his throat. “Actually, we’d like you to answer some questions we have. We’re travellers from afar, you see, and we don’t know much about this place or nation.”

They came all this way here and they don’t know the first thing about where they are? “You’re in the country of Li, specifically in the capital city of both the nation and the Central Province. I’m not going to judge how you choose to spend your time, but if you wanted to go sightseeing, I wouldn’t exactly recommend coming to the pleasure district first.” You raised an eyebrow. Just who were these people?

You saw that a few of the mens’ faces had turned bright red when they realised where they were. “Ha! Told you that this is where we ended up.”

“Are you implying that you frequent these kinds of places, Captain?” It sure seemed like these two had a penchant for arguing. Even during the time while you were waiting for your father to arrive, you noticed that they kept butting heads.

“Enough, you two.” The oldest shot them a quick glare. “Either way, it’s good we left Wind with Four back at the city outskirts. Both because of the inappropriate nature of this place- no offence…”

You shrugged. “None taken.”

“... But so that they wouldn’t have to see you get in trouble like this.”

“You are the apothecary here, right? If so, then you should be familiar with people who have gotten injuries.” You nodded. “Have you heard anything about encounters with any strong monsters, particularly those with black blood?”

Alright, now you were really confused. Monsters? Black blood? Was this some kind of way of informing you of a new disease spreading among the troops of enemy nations? But if so, why not tell this to an army physician instead of a random apothecary?

“Can’t say that I have.” You spoke up after having given it some thought. “Though I have to admit that I have been working in the inner court for the past few months, so I’m not caught up on the goings on outside the palace walls. But if you are telling the truth, I’m certain I would have heard rumours.” Thinking back, Xiaolan - a girl you had grown a friendship with when you were a simple servant at the palace - sure loved her gossip, and if there was one thing she loved more, it was sharing that gossip with you over tasty snacks and food.

“Thank you anyways.”

While this conversation didn’t seem like it yielded much, it did get your gears turning. It was time to do some espionage- or rather, some investigating. Something you’ve gotten pretty good at lately, if you said so yourself.

“Please wait here while I get you some medicine.” With a quick bow you left the room. In truth you had already prepared the medicine while waiting for your father to arrive, but this was still a convenient excuse.

As quietly as you could you hid yourself behind the sliding door and pressed your ear against it. Sure enough, once the men in the room believed you to be gone, they started talking. Words like “monsters,” “eras,” “shadow” and others got thrown around as if it was common knowledge, yet it only served to confuse - and intrigue - you further. One thing was certain; these were not your regular, run-of-the-mill travellers.

Your earlier talk also gave you an opportunity to scrutinise their appearances. Given their unfamiliar clothes and armour, plus features like light coloured hair and eyes, and their utter lack of knowledge of where they even were, you assumed them to be from a distant land, the west, most likely. But that was before you noticed one curious detail that they all shared; pointed ears.

This one thing had you calling things into question. Sure, the world was a large place, but in all your years of studying medicine and the human body, you’ve never heard of any group of peoples with such a distinctive feature.

But now came the question of what to do. What were you going to do about this suspicious group? Should you report them in case they were here to cause trouble? To be honest, you didn’t want to get involved. No point in sticking your neck out for these strangers and possibly risk getting accused of treason. You’ve done your job, you healed them, and you’re about to give them their medicine and leave. There’s no need to let them occupy your mind anymore. You’d steer clear of them from now on. Yeah, that sounded good.

Finally, you pretended to have returned from your ‘excursion’ and knocked on the door. Given the sudden silence from the room, it was safe to assure that whatever they were talking about was not for others to hear.

Walking up to the Captain still in bed, you handed over a small paper bag. “Please take this for the next few days. It’ll ease your stomach and help with getting rid of any lingering toxins. I would recommend drinking it as tea.”

The one who you had identified as ‘Legend’ from when you were listening in groaned. “Ugh. This whole thing’s been a wash. You guys ready to head back to camp?”

A unanimous ‘yes’ was heard.

--

Ironically enough, you could not get those men out of your head. Was your intuition trying to tell you that there was something wrong with them? Or were you simply curious? They were certainly the most interesting people you’ve met in some time.

They had already left the inn and you had headed in a different direction. You did finally manage to get that warm bath you were looking forward to. And getting to speak to your ‘big sisters’ at the Verdigris House was nice. But still your mind was occupied with something else. Damn it, this was supposed to be your day off, but you haven’t been able to relax completely!

You kicked a small rock in front of you in frustration. Hopefully having dinner with your dad would help alleviate your problem.

Suddenly you felt an all too familiar feeling of being pulled backwards.

Well, this wouldn’t be your first kidnapping.

--

And Wars will have to suffer through that dry, ashy throat for the remainder of this fic- lol jk.

A.N Fun fact: did you know that other than Twilight (who has lived among humans for a long time), technically, Legend is the one who has interacted with humans the most? The people of Koholint Island had short, round ears, as did the people of Holodrum (Oracle of Seasons), Labrynna (Oracle of Ages) and Hytopia (Tri Force Heroes).

[bentosandbox]

quick TL for Swummer Module bc it was great (and a bit of Chummer's module)

Happy 5 year anniversary of the chenswire (chapter 5) banner

[Pinned] Regular Chat Group (4)

16:26 Guma: I'm hungry, what's for dinner? Swire: Let's have something nice. Grand Lungmen Resturant, 8PM! You need to try that new puhn choi on their menu. It's their usual recipe, but they use ingredients sourced from that new MCT trade route. They have stuff from Rim Billiton to Sargon. Super fresh. The set also comes with a bottle wine from Sami! Swire: Bison and I worked our asses off to establish this supply chain so you guys better try it! @ Rat Rat: You're counting me in?

17:09 Guma: So hungry. can we go now? Swire: There's no seats available rn, just snack on something first!

18:32 Guma: hungry...

19:20 Guma: so hungryyyyyyy...

19:58 Rat: Something urgent came up, you guys go on without me

20:08 Swire: Huh? Swire: Wb hoshiguma?

20:23 Swire: It's been so long since we had a meal together so we better get one today! Lmk what you want to eat asap after work!

20:41 Swire: so what are we having tonight?

21:19 Swire: what are we having tonightttt??????? Swire: LIN YUXIA I SAW YOUR READ NOTIF!! answer! Rat: I just finished work. Didn't you just release your Director Swire Lungmen Food Guide with the nonstop noisy af TV ads. why are you asking me to decide Guma: Done with my emergency mission. I'm fine w anything as long as there's meat. So hungry I could eat an entire burdenbeast head Rat: What about the snack street? 'the shopping district is right next door, a convergence of unique goods from all over Terra. Only in Lungmen can you shop the whole land!' Writing's not bad Swire: Duh its my work so ofc the copywriting has to be good too Guma: nah sounds like there won't be a lot of meat Swire: Remember the volcanic mud cleanser I got for you @ Rat and the surfboard @ Guma you can buy them there too Swire: Bison and i adjusted the prices until they're just slightly pricier than what you'd pay in siesta. Does that work? Guma: Don't feel like eating surfboard Rat: Then international trade park? The guide's no.2 Swire: Sure we're drawing some investors over there atm so there's plenty of foreign food there they're p good Guma: I want meat also ill take more than 30min to get there from here ill die from hunger Swire: Pity. It's pretty popular with the youths yk, recommended date spot Rat: Agh! Rat: Final option. The cai zhe min stall behind the LGD office. That or you guys can starve Guma: no objections Swire: no objections

21:30 Swire: wait LYX why do you have my guide i thought you didn't like that sort of noise Rat: Just happened to pick it up, problem?

21:33 Rat: Why is the czm stall not in your guide? Swire: I wanted to but the boss wouldn't let me sth about its too bougie for him hes just a regular noodle stall Swire: True tho. Certified Lungmen™️ moment

21:38 Guma: I already ordered come ASAP

23:35 Guma: Why hasn't chen read any of our messages? Swire: Bc she has to connect to an intercity net first. Who knows she might just be on the top of a haystack in some valley waving her terminal around for signal right now

--new messages-- PGL: ...... PGL: you mean a pile of rubble PGL: I'm back in lungmen, i want to eat czm too

thoughts/notes:

As I mentioned in the other ask Swire set nicknames for the other 3 Hoshi: 🐻🐻 Chen: Puk Gaai Lung Lin: Stinky Rat (wanted to use CLS (cau lau syu) but i kept misreading it as cho shan land so lmaoo

Hoshi 'i don't feel like having surfboard for dinner' guma

Lin really likes her cart noodles huh (nodding)

Hoshi and Lin both finished their urgent work at the same time 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

this is so good for character study idk like the way lin is like indirectly 'me too?' and never commits but doesn't exactly ghost 24/7 either also her being like -_-💢this or you starve idc HOSHIGUMA.....hungryguma so cute she dgaf Swire. 'the youths love coming here for dates' spoken like a real 25+yo AND CHEN... when youre that one guy in the gc whos overseas or in a diff timezone .......i doubt the timeline doesn't add up so nicely but i had a funny mental image of the 3 eating their noodles and then suddenly chen in her victorian outfit shows up behind them all covered in blood and dust from ch14

Right uh Chummer module:

shes in dossoles, some boy is asking her for help because his dad pulled his mom into some smuggling trade (and he used to be part of it too) chen is like dw i'll punish him and his gang if they deserve it and the boy asked if prison will reform his dad (chen: ...why do you ask) saying his dad used to be Normal but then became money hungry after they came to dossoles and promised him he would take them on a cruise to spot rainbows or something?? chen is like theres water everywhere here shouldnt you have seen enough rainbows. hes like it doesnt count it has to be on a ship and all... she thinks its valid as she remembers how much she wanted wei's approval back then and asks if he still thinks the same and hes like yeah but i cant do it alone... chen is silent for a moment and then helps the boy out, leaving a note before they split ways 'then you'll have to figure out a way to make him hear you out, to tell him you want him to be a better person. at least, he needs to understand your point of view' then it switches to 3rd person narrative lol it rained that day, and chen(女侠 ..!!) subdues a criminal gang, rescuing a woman. the surprising part is that the leader wanted to fight to the end before a child suddenly appeared before him. at some point the rain stops and a rainbow appears, making the gangleader hesitant and eventually drops his weapon after (his son) says something to him. witnesses remark on how chen did not seem happy by this outcome, only pensively staring towards the east

honestly my first reaction was 'omg chen nuxia interrobang' and then 'wuh..??' bc it was so vague compared to what was essentially chatfic or w/e the term is lmao not much on the brain atm except:

hen module: looks toward lungmen swire module: im back

the kinoooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mollywog]

"Do you think we'd have ended up like this if only one of us had won?" he asks, glancing around at the other victors. "Just another part of the freak show?"

Actually - yes (though they’re not freaks). Under slightly different circumstances or over time, Katniss could have become the next Haymitch, Johanna, Finnick, Annie, or morphling

Haymitch Abernathy

Maybe he wasn't always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbear-able. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. Year after year after year. I realize that if I get out of here, that will become my job. To mentor the girl from District 12. The idea is so re-pellent, I thrust it from my mind.

~

"Is that what happened to you?" I ask Haymitch.

"No. My mother and younger brother. My girl. They were all dead two weeks after I was crowned victor. Because of that stunt I pulled with the force field," he answers. "Snow had no one to use against me."

"I'm surprised he didn't just kill you," I say.

"Oh, no. I was the example. The person to hold up to the young Finnicks and Johannas and Cashmeres. Of what could happen to a victor who caused problems," says Haymitch. "But he knew he had no leverage against me."

"Until Peeta and I came along," I say softly. I don't even get a shrug in return.

Johanna Mason

Where you can starve to death in safety," I mutter. Then I glance quickly over my shoulder. Even here, even in the middle of nowhere, you worry someone might overhear you.

When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt out about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol. Eventually I understood this would only lead us to more trouble. So Ilearned to hold my tongue and to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts. Do my work quietly in school.

~

"Of course Peeta's right. The whole country adores Katniss's little sister. If they really killed her like this, they'd probably have an uprising on their hands," says Johanna flatly. "Don't want that, do they?" She throws back her head and shouts, "Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!"I can't help catching her hand as she passes me.

….

"Don't go in there. The birds -" I remember the birds must be gone, but I still don't want anyone in there. Not even her.

"They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's ho one left I love," Johanna says, and frees her hand with an impatient shake.

Finnick Odair

"President Snow used to ... sell me ... my body, that is," Finnick begins in a flat, removed tone. "I wasn't the only one. If a victor is considered desir-able, the president gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love. So you do it "

~

I'm left with Haymitch in the rubble, wondering if Finnick's fate would have one day been mine. Why not? Snow could have gotten a really good price for the girl on fire.

Annie Cresta

"You're not leaving me here alone," I say. Because if he dies, I'll never go home, not really. I'll spend the rest of my life in this arena trying to think my way out.

~

"Yeah. Annie's the one who went mad when her district partner got beheaded. Ran off by herself and hid. But an earthquake broke a dam and most of the arena got flooded. She won because she was the best swimmer," says Peeta.

The morphlings

Surely she could afford food, but turned to the morphling just as Haymitch turned to drink, I guess. Everything about her speaks of waste - her body, her life, the vacant look in her eyes.

I revise my suicide plan to slow death by morphling. I will become a yellow-skinned bag of bones, with enormous eyes.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Guess who started plagiarizing their own AU’s?

I got another fix-it with ✨angst✨ because I was thinking about how much Nero Price hates the districts for forcing him and his family into cannibalism and it made me think: “if starvation made him hate them, could it make them start to fight for them?” And then I thought about my starvation fix-it AU (featuring @spiralling-thoughts) and this was born.

Instead of the starvation happening before the games, it happens during the games, which takes place about a week or two later than it was supposed to due to rebel activity (read: Sejanus and a few good mentors fucking shit up for Gaul). The premise here is simple: these extra weeks gave the tributes the time to bond (and also none of them died because Sejanus Does Not Agree With That) and now none of them can stomach killing one another. So what’s the other option? Uhm… waiting until fate decides the victor? So once they’re finally thrown into the arena and the buzzer sounds they run into the tunnels like they did in canon (but with more kids), but the big difference is that nobody gets out. Some get a weapon just to be safe but the few kids that run into one another don’t really do anything. Think the Foxface-Katniss interaction at the start of the 74th Hunger Games. Lucky tries to get everyone hyped up every single time only to be sorely disappointed when they stare each other down only to sprint in the opposite direction mere seconds later.

At first, Gaul isn’t particularly bothered by how hilariously she’s being proven wrong because they can just starve out the tributes and surely they’ll start swinging at each other soon enough right? This might even be better than how things usually go! Except then the kids start to notice some are getting more food than others and they’re not about that. Coral sharing with Mizzen and Tanner is written off by their alliance, but then things start escalating. It starts with Lamina calling a clearly starved Wovey over and giving her all except two of her food packets. Then Lucy Gray and Jessup (who does not have rabies and neither does Reaper because Brandy (who is in the pack with Coral and Not Dead) threw the rabbid raccoon away a little further) trade their water for Sol and Hy’s food. Treech considers stealing Dill’s food and water but decides to help her consume it instead and somehow this keeps Dill from dying (Felix. The answer is Felix. He used his presidential family card to sneak antibiotics into her water bottles). Then before anyone knows it the tributes are all keeping tabs on who’s eaten what and they start rationing out so everyone gets the food they need. The older kids tells the younger ones that they’re deliberately feeding them more because growing you know? But the Capitol sure notices. When we get to day five, Gaul decides that enough is enough and orders a full stop to all sponsor gifts to try and force the tributes to start killing each other.

They do no such thing.

Instead, they start doubling down on their decision to stick this thing out together and start catching any rodents they can to feed to the youngest kids while ignoring the slowly growing hunger within them. Do those Capitol bastards really think they can get to them with starvation? Please, this is their daily jam. They’ve gotten this far, a little hunger won’t break them now. So they wait. They wait and they survive. It gets harder and harder for the older tributes, who are allowing themselves to starve for the sake of their younger companions and are slowly running out of fuel to keep going, but not once do they comply with what they know the Capitol wants from them. At some point it becomes pure shared spite more than anything.

Meanwhile, the Capitol citizens watch this go down and have their view of the world shaken up considerably. These kids know just a little too much about dealing with extreme food shortage for this to be their first rodeo. The delusion that the districts haven’t suffered as much as the Capitol did during the siege is completely shattered when the kids start sharing their best starvation cope tactics that make it clear this is a regular occurrence for them. Slowly, more and more information is shown to them as they watch the kids they saw as violent beasts be nothing but caring and kind to one another. It hits especially hard for the Price family, who spent so much time loathing the districts for their decision to resort to cannibalism only to find out that the Capitol has pushed the districts right to that edge for years. How can they call themselves better when they’ve done the exact same thing they resent the districts for? When they’ve arguably done worse because they’re punishing innocents? That last line of thinking becomes particularly unavoidable when the younger kids start taking up more screentime. Why do they do this? Because the older tributes are starting to succumb to starvation. They all look skeletal and half-dead, but the oldest tributes have given up so much food that it’s clear they can barely move. They do a good job of hiding it around the younger kids but once they’re out of sight under the guise of searching for more insects and rodents to eat they collapse and curl up to fight off the hunger pangs. When the young kids are asleep all the older ones clearly sag as their energy depletes. It reminds the Capitol citizens of how they’d hide their fatigue and physical deterioration from their kids and loved ones, desperate to hold it together, only to break down once they were alone.

When the first tribute stops being able to move, the Capitol has had enough. Perhaps Marcus, Coral, and Reaper scream their lungs out at the camera over the hypocrisy and cruelty and then mockingly asking the Capitol what they’re gonna do about this show of rebellion. This refusal to fight. Starve them? Kill them? What more can they do?! That’s the final straw. The more sympathetic citizens refuse to watch for even a second longer. They do the one thing the Capitol feared:

They rebel

Maybe they force the government to get the kids out. Maybe they get some peacekeepers on their side and storm the arena first to make sure not one more innocent life is lost. Either way, they realize that silence isn’t any better than being the monster. Seeing suffering and standing by is just as cruel as causing that suffering in the first place. If they storm the arena they bring easily digestible food and liquid calories to avoid refeeding syndrome or nausea from overeating so they can start helping the kids readjust and heal. Of course there’s a lot of distrust from the kids at first, but they’re in no position to refuse food. So they take it, and for once the oldest kids don’t mind eating first because who knows what these Capitol assholes put in it? Of course it turns out it’s not poisoned so they start to accept it a little more openly while the politics are handed and arrangements are made to get the kids back home. Gaul tries to stop this, but nobody listens to her anymore. Her lab’s destroyed under “mysterious circumstances” and as her career comes to a fiery end, she herself does too. When legal repercussions for her heinous actions is threatened by the parents of several academy students she endangered, she attempts to flee the country. What chance of winning does she have when one of the litigants is President Ravinstill himself??? Felix was a little upset about Dill’s pain and he wasn’t about to let it slide but since persecuting her for the hunger games wouldn’t work due to law changes not working retroactively this was the next best thing. Either way, certain people (the mentors) caught wind of the fact that this vile monster of a woman was trying to escape the consequences of her actions and they decided to remain one step ahead by becoming the mysterious circumstances credited with her disappearance. By which I mean she came to a slow death in her home. Possibly through invisible toxic gas, possibly through burning to death, possibly through her own predator muttations given her scent to hunt down. Who knows? Better question is who cares? The mentors have become closer to their tributes and their friendships last well beyond the fixing of all the problems in this mess of a country and all’s well that ends well.

[stonesparrow]

Dcst Hunger Games AU pt. 1

Senku and Taiju have grown up alongside each other in the impoverished agricultural district of Panem, and for three years they’ve been lucky enough to escape the annual reaping for tributes to send to the Hunger Games. But Senku knows that even if the odds are in your favor, that doesn’t mean you’re safe. Luckily, he has a plan for that.

Taiju Oki will live.

Note: Senku’s portrayed as a closeted trans boy in this and he does get misgendered/presents as his AGAB to people that don’t know him. Also, warning for Hunger Games levels of angst and violence.

District 3 is a Career District in this one instead of District 4 because I made Kohaku be from District 4 but I didn’t want her to be a Career :P

Read on ao3!

“Well, there we go,” Senku says, wiping his hands on the dirt and oil soaked rag hanging from his belt as he steps away from the tractor. “It should work just fine now.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Natri sighs, brushing the gray hairs off his brow. “I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to meet quota for the fall harvest without it.”

He pays Senku, but when the teenager tallies up the bills, he frowns. “Hey old man, this is more than we agreed upon.”

 Natri claps a hand on Senku’s shoulder. “You and your father do so much for everyone,” he says solemnly. “Honest mechanics are hard to come by, you know. The money is well deserved.”

Senku thrusts the extra cash at him. “You have your daughter and her husband and their four children. I’ve just got my dad, you know that. It’s not logical to tip so much when your family needs it more.”

Natri pushes his hand back. “If you hadn’t fixed the tractor, we would pay eight times that tip in fees to the Capitol for failing to meet quota. And then what would we do?” He crosses his arms. “You can use that money to buy better tools for the workshop to keep everything running—that’ll help us all far more than a measly extra loaf of bread on the table.”

Senku scowls. “Fine.” He pockets the money and hops on his bike for the journey home.

As he rolls past fields of corn and potatoes and squash, the frustration in Senku’s stomach simmers. District 11 grows enough food to feed the entire nation of Panem, and yet if they don’t meet the harvest quota every season it’s their citizens that suffer the pangs of hunger and weakness of malnutrition. Starving in a sea of food, all because of some fuckwads with blue skin and glittery eyebrows hundreds of miles away.

He gets home and parks his bike outside the garage as he does every evening. His dad stops humming and slides out from under a truck he’s working on.

“How’d it go?”

“Pretty straightforward,” Senku reports, putting his tool bag down. “Old Nat gave me a tip, said to invest it back into the shop.”

“That’s nice of him.”

“Too nice,” Senku mutters. “How does he hope to feed three adults and four kids like that?”

“Sometimes you need those little moments of kindness to prove to yourself that you’re still human,” Byakuya says nonchalantly as he returns to working on the truck. 

Senku has no answer for that, so he heads inside to make them some dinner. Two seed rolls, some corn gruel, and hastily thrown together vegetables, same as yesterday. 

As the Ishigamis eat in the dimming light of the sun, Senku tries not to think about the bags of tesserae grain in Taiju’s house. 

One more little slip of paper for every year and every ration of rough brown grain and oil for Taiju and his grandparents. His name will be in the reaping balls sixteen times this year to Senku’s four.

The math is actually in both boys’ favor. There are families like the Rayes, with so many more mouths to feed and so often failing to meet quota that they claim tesserae ten times over. There are kids who claim more tesserae than is needed for their own families, to sell the extra at a lower price to those without any reaping-age children, especially the old folks. 

When taking that into account, sixteen out of hundreds of thousands of entries in the boys’ bowl and four out of just as many in the girls’ seems like a drop of water in an ocean.

But Senku’s not the sort to put faith in random chance. Even if they make it out this year, there’s always the next, for three more years. And when Taiju is eighteen he’ll have twenty-eight, and Senku will only have seven. 

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

His dad has always been too discerning for his own good. “Mmm.” Senku gets up to put his dishes in the sink.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay? I know your hobbies are important to you, but there’s a lot of other work to be done too.”

“I know, Dad.”

Byakuya gives him a warm, genuine smile, the kind that’s rare in District 11 no matter what you have on the table. “Hey. You know I’m proud of you right? You’re going to do a lot of good for people.”

Senku rolls his eyes. “Duh. What else did you raise me to do, old man?”

Senku goes down into the basement, where he’s got several small samples of tesserae grain in little tins, a meticulously cleaned work table, a hand-powered generator for the lights, stacks of books reaching past the top of his head, and an extremely rough microscope he built himself from old parts. 

Tesserae has been specifically engineered so that it’s impossible to grow from the grain alone. Senku has been working diligently every night since he was ten years old to figure out the exact conditions he needs for it to sprout.

If the Peacekeepers ever found out what he was doing, it’d mean death for him and his dad. So Byakuya only ever refers to Senku’s “hobby” as reading up on the subject of agricultural science, saying Senku is interested in improving crop yields. A good interest for a District 11 kid to have.

If Senku can crack the code, he could start growing the nutrient-dense tesserae grain in secret. It’d be difficult to get any decent yield in the basement, and distributing it to the families that need it is a whole other issue, but that’s a problem for Future Senku, if he can get that far at all. 

He doesn’t really know what’ll happen to all this research if he gets reaped next week, but that’s a problem for Future Senku too. 

—————

Senku hates Reaping Day for a multitude of awful reasons, but putting on his outfit has to be in the top five. Because if the worst comes to worst, he’s got a Contingency Plan in mind, and that requires looking like a girl.

Everyone in the Ishigamis’ neighborhood and most of their clients know Senku as “Byakuya’s son,” and even those who aren’t familiar with him would most often guess male from a first glance at his baggy cotton shirt, wild, untamable hair, and bony frame. Senku doesn’t have much of a chest, which he’s always been glad for, and his voice is just deep enough that it would give even someone who was expecting a girl pause.

But just because everyone at home knows who he is doesn’t mean the Capitol knows or cares. At his first reaping Senku had worn the baggy, oversized mechanic’s overalls his father had sewn for him, and he remembers the Capitol woman who had scanned the crowd for the sorry saps she’d be dragging to their deaths staring at him like some sort of vermin next to the cute little girls in their innocent white dresses.

Senku had enjoyed the revulsion on her face, but that was before he had been forced to come up with the Contingency Plan the year after. And now, standing in front of the mirror in an awkwardly fitting dress with his hair brushed neatly over his shoulders, he turns his head this way and that, checking to make sure he looks sufficiently like what the marker on his birth certificate says. 

 “Pink really isn’t your color,” Byakuya says quietly as they make their way to the Justice Building. He’s smiling with his mouth as if sharing a joke, but there’s no sparkle in his eyes.

“Yeah, green would probably have been better,” Senku remarks just as nonchalantly. 

He’s never told Byakuya about the Contingency Plan, but he suspects his dad somehow knew he’d come up with it before even Senku did. 

They meet up with the Okis as they enter the square. Taiju’s usual boisterous greeting is reduced to a simple polite hello. They get registered, and like they’ve done for the past three years, Byakuya goes to stand with Taiju’s grandparents, while Senku lets Taiju hug him one more time before they get separated into the different gender blocks.

Senku idly wonders if his classmates know why he only dresses as his assigned gender for the one day of the reaping every year. None of them have ever asked, probably because they figure that whatever’s going on in Senku’s brain is too complicated to get into. Or maybe they’re just overly polite. Not really his problem as long as they don’t get in the way of the Plan.

The girls on either side of him are clothed much like he is—in their best, sometimes only dresses, the ones that make them look sweeter, more feminine, more innocent. Senku can count on one hand the number of girls who are wearing anything other than cheap cotton or linen. Not even the wealthiest of District 11 are spared.

So why, Senku thinks bitterly as the mayor drones on and on with the speech he’s given every year, do you still go along with it? 

The Capitol escort finally steps forward to the girls’ bowl. Senku kind of tuned out her introduction, so he doesn’t know the name of the person condemning the name on the slip of paper that she lifts into the air.

“Luna Wright!”

Everyone gasps as Senku raises his eyebrows. That’s the Mayor’s own daughter, the eighteen-year-old girl dressed in a sateen gown worth more than the Ishigamis’ entire home probably. She immediately bursts into tears, but her father’s face simply goes blank as she’s escorted to the stage.

 Senku doesn’t know anything about Luna personally, only seen her from a distance while doing jobs in the town proper. But he looks at her now, at her soft hands and even softer face, and thinks, she won’t last a day. 

The Capitol lady moves onto the boys’ bowl, and Senku holds his breath. The unfurling of the paper, in his mind, matches the sound of a gun having its safety taken off. 

“Taiju Oki!”

 Taiju’s face goes white as his grandmother screams, her husband weeping as he holds onto her. Byakuya however, simply stares at Senku. Waiting.

As Taiju ascends the stage and the Capitol lady goes to lift his and Luna’s hands, Senku puts the next step of the Contingency Plan into motion.

“I volunteer as tribute.”

Everyone snaps to attention at his firm, calm statement. Classmates and neighbors give him looks like he’s lost his mind. Luna stares at him with a gratitude he does not deserve while Taiju’s face is filled with nothing but horror.

“Senku?” He murmurs in disbelief as his childhood friend takes Luna’s place on the stage. “What are you—“

“Well, this is a surprise!” The Capitol lady has shaken off her shock. “Would anyone like to volunteer in Taiju’s place, then?”

Silence. 

“Then let’s give it up for the tributes of District 11, Senku Ishigami and Taiju Oki!”

—————

Before Taiju can demand an explanation, he and Senku are dragged inside the Justice Building into separate rooms to say goodbye to their families.

Senku and Byakuya stand face to face, not saying a word. Senku looks up at his dad as if daring him to challenge his decision. Byakuya however, merely nods.

“You planned this from the start. To volunteer if Taiju was ever picked.”

Senku shrugs. “Is it that obvious? Idiot wouldn’t last five minutes without me.” He crosses his arms. “Sorry I won’t be able to help out around the shop anymore. There’s a list of guys I pinned up by my workbench who have been asking about mechanics’ apprenticeships though. At least a few of them have to be halfway decent.” Because he’s not coming home, and they both know it. Not without Taiju. Never without Taiju. 

Byakuya smiles and there’s no light in his eyes. “None like you though.” 

Senku looks down. “Yeah, too bad.”

His dad reaches into a pocket and pulls out a small glass medallion on a string. “Here. Your token.”

“Eh? I didn’t know you prepared anything.” Senku takes the medallion. It’s barely five centimeters across, and has concentric rings carved into it. It looks like it’s from a piece of scrap in the workshop. When he tilts in in the light, it refracts and sends rainbows scattering across his hand. “Neat.” 

Byakuya envelops him in a hug. “I’ll take care of your houseplants for you,” he says. Senku nods. He trusts his dad to continue his research as best he can. Eventually, they could save lives.

“When Taiju comes home,” Senku says, “look out for him, will you? I don’t want him lazing about like a useless sack of rocks without me to follow around.”

“I promise I will. As long as you promise me something too.”

Senku blinks. “What?”

His father’s voice lowers to barely a whisper as he squeezes Senku tight. “Give them hell.” 

Senku’s eyes widen. Byakuya doesn’t mean the other tributes. He smirks. “Already planning on it, old man.”

Byakuya smiles, genuinely this time, and presses a kiss to his forehead. “That’s my boy.”

—————

As soon as they get on the train, Taiju is frantically begging Senku to explain why he volunteered, tears forming in his eyes. Which is when Senku enacts the next step of the Contingency Plan.

He convinces Taiju that they can win together. That between his brains and Taiju’s brawn, they’ll find a way to outsmart the games, a loophole, an escape exit. 

Taiju, trusting, kind, wonderful Taiju, believes him. 

After all, Senku has never lied to him before. 

Their mentor is an enormous man named Brody Dudley, the winner of the 50th Hunger Games. He scrutinizes both of them from under dark sunglasses, and Senku scrutinizes him right back.

“Pink really isn’t your color, kid,” is the first thing the man says. Senku blinks.

“Yeah, no, it wasn’t my first choice,” he finds himself saying. “It was cheap though.”

“Evidently. Alright. Your first assignment is to watch the recordings of the reapings and report your observations to me in exactly two hours. Go.”

He leaves them alone in the train car, and Taiju glances at Senku. “He, um. Seems okay?”

Senku wouldn’t be so sure. Brody Dudley, he knows, has killed people. Senku researched every single former Victor of District 11 still alive, he knows what price they paid to come home.

But he doesn’t mention this to Taiju, only boots up the screen in front of them to play back the reapings. Assessing one’s opponents isn’t a bad idea, after all.

To their surprise though, the first reaping recording—the one from District 12—appears to have been cut down considerably for…some reason. It doesn’t show the girl being selected, only the boy—she’s already on the stage. 

Their Capitol escort raises their hands into the air and calls their names—the girl is Mirai Shishio. Tears run down her face as she stares blankly at the ground. Everyone around them seems profoundly disturbed by something.

“Why’d they cut the footage?” Taiju wonders. Senku frowns.

“Something must have happened during her reaping that they didn’t like. Let’s just move on for now.”

They skip their own reaping, nothing new to see there, and boot up the next ones. Senku commits every one of their faces to memory. He has no intention of killing anyone—his and Taiju’s strategy will be evasion and survival. But he should know these people, know their names, because the Capitol will soon pretend that he and twenty-two of them no longer exist. 

The videos for Districts 10 and 9 are full recordings—no inexplicable omissions there. Those reapings went predictably, with the expected tears and hopeless expressions. 8, however, is a little different.

“Yuzuriha Ogawa.”

 A petite girl their age with long brown hair and a white headband freezes in the crowd, but only for a moment. She does not cry, or scream, or even frown. 

Instead, she throws her head back and laughs.

“The hell is wrong with her?” Senku blurts out as Yuzuriha ascends the steps to the stage. Taiju doesn’t reply, instead staring at the girl with wide eyes. 

She leans in close to the microphone and flips her hair with a sweet smile and a wink. “Be sure to get my good side, okay?” 

Well. Senku supposes the stress could cause anyone to snap right then and there. 

Yuzuriha’s partner seems to think she’s crazy too, sending her an odd look when he goes to join her. The recording concludes and starts playing the next one automatically.

Nothing particularly interesting happened in Districts 7, 6, and 5 it looks like. In District 4 the tiniest girl Senku’s ever seen is reaped, tears welling up behind her thick round glasses. A moment later, an older girl with blond hair and fierce eyes volunteers in her place. 

“Kohaku Hoseki and Kinro Hashiguchi,” the escort says. When he asks the tributes to offer some comments, Kohaku grabs the microphone.

“Yeah I sure have some comments! FU-“

The recording cuts out. Senku and Taiju glance at each other.

“She sure seems energetic,” Senku deadpans as the next one plays. 

The last three (or first, if going by number) are the ones Senku’s been waiting for. The Career districts. The freaks who train for years and then sign up voluntarily to slaughter their fellow man in the arena with smiles on their faces.

“Homura Momiji and Hyoga Akatsuki!”

District 3’s female tribute is even smaller than Yuzuriha, but no one who volunteers willingly would enter if they didn’t have some sort of killing ability, and Senku resolves to be wary. Her partner however is almost twice her size, with snow white hair, enormous muscles, and an unreadable expression.

“Nikki Hanada and Magma Kengo!”

District 2’s tributes are both heavy looking brick walls of muscle, more so than even Taiju. Senku pushes down the doubt in his stomach. Taiju will win. Taiju will go home. Senku’s gonna make that happen. 

“Kirisame Fujioka and Mozu Torimura!”

Senku raises an eyebrow at how fancy the outfits the District 1 tributes are wearing. Is this some sort of intimidation tactic? Girls are swooning over the boy—eighteen year old Mozu, while Kirisame looks over the crowd with a distant, aloof expression that only seems to highlight her beauty.

And that’s all of them. “That was…” Taiju frowns. “Weird.”

“Everything’s weird, Taiju,” Senku says, standing up and stretching. “Let’s hurry up and report back to Shades McGee before we get lectured.”

Senku finally changes out of the damn dress and into some shorts and a t-shirt, tying his hair up in a ponytail out of his face. Brody doesn’t comment on it as the boys sit down with him.

“First impressions. Now.”

“The Careers are the biggest concern,” Senku says matter-of-factly. “I’m most suspicious of Homura Momiji. She doesn’t look like a powerhouse, which means she’s got something else up her sleeve that we’ll have to look out for. Nobody else really stood out as a major threat, but it’s still too early to make any comprehensive assessments.”

Brody nods as if he’s satisfied with Senku’s evaluation, though his expression doesn’t change. “And what do you think?” He asks Taiju. 

Taiju startles in his seat. “Oh! Um. I agree with Senku, we should definitely avoid the Careers.”

Brody waits. “And the others?”

“Um.” Taiju fidgets with his fingers in his lap. “I don’t know? The girl from Eight…she seems interesting?”

“If by interesting you mean clearly insane,” Senku says. Taiju shakes his head.

“I don’t think she’s insane,” he says. “I think…it was a message. That they wouldn’t get any tears out of her, or something. Maybe…maybe she could be an ally.”

“Allies are risky,” Brody says. “Better stick to the one person you know you can rely on, and that’s you.”

Taiju looks down at his hands and frowns. 

They discuss the upcoming ceremony procedure in brief, curt sentences—Brody seems to prefer only talking to them when necessary. 

Dinner is one of the simultaneously best and worst experiences so far. It’s all so much, bread in all shades rather than just dark brown, fresh butter and cream, protein in the form of entire roasts of meat rather than a few eggs every other week. Taiju’s eyes are enormous as he takes it all in, and Senku has to remind him he can’t eat everything, even if it tastes heavenly.

Senku can’t muster much of an appetite. Even a single bite of the pearly white bread makes him feel sick to his stomach—how many people in the Capitol eat like this while some families in District 11 subsist on nothing but bitter tesserae grain? How much do they gorge on the vegetables Senku’s neighbors shed blood and sweat to grow while Peacekeepers will shoot a child for taking a single bite of an unripe peach?

He fights the urge to scream when the meal is over and there are still so, so many leftovers. Taiju watches the staff wheel away the scraps of food too, astonished that their Capitol escort didn’t even finish the rind of her cheese. Brody however, finished everything that was on his plate, and nothing less.

Before they have time to think much on it, the boys are sent to bed. After about an hour, Taiju knocks on Senku’s door.

“I can’t sleep.” 

Senku sighs in exasperation and walks over to Taiju’s room. “Come on then.”

Taiju’s tangled his blankets up into a sort of nest on the ground—apparently the plush bed was too soft and unfamiliar, and made him feel uneasy. Senku lets Taiju rest his head on his lap as he reviews some notes he took earlier about the other tributes and the ceremony.

“Senku?”

“Hm?”

“We won’t have to…kill anyone, right?”

Senku puts his notebook down. “Taiju, I promise you that you’ll never have to lay a finger on another person, okay? I’ll make sure of it. We’re gonna make it out, the two of us, and it’s all going to be just fine.”

Taiju nods, exhaling slowly. “Okay. Good.” 

He falls asleep not long after that, and Senku carefully extricates himself to return to his own room. 

As he lies in bed staring up at the ceiling, Senku thinks through the Contingency Plan again.

Step 1: When Taiju is reaped for the Hunger Games, volunteer in place of the female tribute. 

Step 2: Convince Taiju the two of you can make it out alive so he doesn’t panic.

Step 3: Present yourself as an innocent young girl to the Capitol to drum up sympathy for sponsors.

Step 4: Get a mid-range training score to fall beneath notice. Make sure Taiju gets a high score so people avoid him. 

Step 5: When the games begin, do everything it takes to survive with Taiju until the other tributes destroy each other.

Step 6: Go home. 

Technically, it isn’t a lie that they’ll both come home at the end. 

It’s just that one of them will be in a box.

[burst-of-iridescent]

i've been re-reading the hunger games in preparation for the tbosas movie, and having last read the trilogy over eight years ago, i didn't realize how much i'd bought into the fanon interpretation of gale. it's pretty well-established that gale and peeta (to put it a little simplistically) represent war and peace, respectively. but the way gale is discussed and presented in fandom seems to act like he was always that way, that he never had a chance, and i realized upon reread that that's just not true.

On other days, deep in the woods, I've listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. "It's to the Capitol's advantage to have us divided among ourselves," he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine.

this passage is taken from the very first chapter of the first book, and it's evident from this that gale knows who the real enemy is, at least in theory. but that doesn't stop him from being angry at madge, from being able to dehumanize the other tributes in a way katniss never does. then he doesn't understand why katniss is outraged by the treatment of her prep team in 13, and and that turns into being willing to sacrifice the miners left in the nut in mockingjay, until finally, he designs weapons that take advantage of compassion and empathy and the desire to help fellow human beings.

gale takes human connection - the very thing he recognized the capitol was trying to destroy because of the innate challenge it posed to authoritarian rule - and deliberately uses it against itself to wreak destruction, and in doing so becomes exactly what he once despised and condemned so thoroughly.

and i think that perfectly illustrates the point suzanne collins was trying to make, that holding onto your humanity in the midst of war and suffering and brutality is a choice. war is inherently, fundamentally dehumanizing. it has to be, in order to justify itself, and no one is immune to falling into that trap, not even good people.

in recognizing the value of human life, in refusing to pay that price needlessly, in choosing to connect with others over and over again simply on the basis of their humanity, peeta and katniss go against everything war demands of them. they make the choice to hold onto their humanity by refusing to lose sight of the humanity of others.

and that's a path that was always available to gale, even if he lacked the innate compassion and goodwill for others that peeta and katniss share. though the seeds have been sown, the gale that katniss talks about in that paragraph is not yet the boy who would end up complicit in the slaughter of innocents. he isn't doomed to walk down the path that he eventually does. he still has a chance to be different, to choose different.

but it's a choice he doesn't make (is likely no longer able to make by the end), though he once might have, and to me that is the real tragedy of gale's character.

[boabelboo]

okok so if you have visited my blog at all ever you will probably know that i am very interested in district nine and i never really explained why, so here is my silly little analysis/explanation of my d9 interest.

so, to me, district nine was a missed opportunity (or, just a very silent representation) of a metaphor. i know that thg is allegorical, and the intricacies of the lore and world building don't necessarily all have to add up into one perfect picture. it isn't "underdeveloped" when there was no need to develop it in the first place. this is just a personal collection of thoughts.

in the hunger games, there is a recurrent motif of bread being a symbol of hope. its seen time and time again, the most common example being peeta burning bread on purpose to give to katniss when she is on the brink of starvation. other examples include when district eleven all banded together to buy katniss their specific district bread as a sign of thanks and, further on the "district bread" subject, sending the bread as a gift during the 75th games with secret codes and messages for rebellion.

bread is so deeply engrained (ha, see what i did there) into the hunger games' lore that the location is even called panem, stemming from 'panem et circenses', latin for bread and circuses. the phrase was coined by juneval, a roman poet, who used his poetry as satirical commentary on roman society. he is referring, in this passage, to the roman practice of giving free wheat to the citizens, and putting on circuses in order to distract them so leaders could gain more political power.

this very obviously and intentionally mirrors the tesserae system, with the wheat/grain only being "free" if you give up one slip of your name to be entered in the reaping. the "small" price to pay.

how does this link in with district nine, you may not ask?

district nine's whole thing is bread and grain. i at first thought that it was strange that they made a whole other district JUST for bread and grain when district eleven was right there.

the reason i came up with in my head for this, was that it is a (intentional or not) parallel to the society juvenal is referring to. panem is so focused on bread, so desperate to churn out more and more as gifts, as grain, as food for the capitol, that they needed a whole district just to manage the supply.

this doesn't make district nine special by any means, all of the canon tributes from district nine do not survive the blood bath in the games, and there are only two named characters (with names relating to bread/grain, i may add).

the metaphor in my mind is that the most irrelevant district is given the bread role, something that is meant to be special that they can use for propaganda. this is the wheat. this is the helpful and free distraction that attempts to brainwash them to forget about the capitol's crimes (the gaining of political power, in juneval's terms). this could be why, in the end, district nine never became part of the rebel plan. maybe they gave this role to district nine because of them being involved in a rebel plot previously (in tbosas, it mentions jabberjays being sent to districts 11 and 12, known for being rebellious, but also 9).

the bread and grain produced from the hands of district nine's workers is used to starve them. they can only get food if they work vigorously or sign up to end their life, but they are so focused on staying alive, on getting the free wheat that juneval refers to that they forget and are distracted by the circus, which is the game all along. starve them enough to keep working, make that their end goal, and use that as a distraction to gain political power.

it's a kind of morbid irony that the district that works so hard to provide bread, the soul focus of panem, is one of the most starving.

[mswyrr]

^^ Well said. I delayed reading it because I didn't want to engage with it for a while - and, once I did, even though Collins had earned so much trust from me with her handling of Katniss and Peeta's disabilities, I was still wary. So I actually highlighted every instance where she wasn't writing him according to ableist tropes.

Yes, at 18 he's been shaped by Capitol indoctrination at school and in his family and in the media. He sees with those lenses. They come easily and automatically to him. But he also connects with people as people and realizes - oh, the District kids are just kids?? And they're being starved and hurt? I know what it's like to go hungry... This is wrong. Why should Lucy Gray have to sing just to get food? I'll get her some, even though I don't have enough.

Over and over - but if you stand up for the wrong people, you will be punished. He tries it; he protects Lucy Gray. And then he pays the price and -- somewhere along the way, he doesn't want to pay anymore. He wants to protect his family and be a winner. And you can't be a winner--comfortable and safe and in control--and stand with someone your society has designated to lose. So he chooses.

It's heartbreaking - and it is, sadly, terrifyingly, the kind of choices the majority of people make - his 18-year-old choices, that is. That moment in his life is the perfect one to write about, because it turns the eye of the story on how young people are shaped - but also, at that young stage, he's closer to the common ordinary people in any corrupt society. He's just trying to survive. It's later that his urge to win motivates him to get worse and worse and worse - no longer wanting to protect his family, in fact tossing Tigris aside, *only* wanting to win. Taking pleasure in driving people into the ground.

It takes decades of choices for him to become that person, though. And it is a creation he makes of himself. The younger person is closer to most people though.

For example, I live in a democracy, thankfully. And yet it is so much driven by what Langston Hughes called "the same old stupid plan / Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak." When I walk into work and I see the cops clearing unhoused people from the only homes and safety they have--a process that we know from studies shortens peoples' lives, hurts them emotionally and physically for no gd reason, just cruelty, just greed--living in an encampment near my work - I don't do anything. I'm afraid to. Sure, I try to donate to people who help and write letters and vote... but I don't resist directly. I'd be punished. So there's a little bit of that 18-year-old kid early in the book who knows right and wrong and yet just wants to be safe in me. And I have to wrestle with it. Because I don't want to ever forget that it's a wrestling match. That's when the perverse incentive structure starts to consume you IMO. And most of us live in societies with perverse incentive structures of some kind. Some lure that is offered to us, of feeling better than, of exploiting others, and some threats of punishment too.

To my mind, it's a good story that can make me think of feeling a pang of shame and sadness and then looking away as the cops clear people and remembering that it's a struggle, that I am not simply on the side of angels, that my society is structured around cruelty and greed and it doesn't have to be. It shouldn't be.

re: the use of trauma. I'm interested to see what Viola Davis does with the role and how Dr Gaul is adjusted in the film script - honestly, her apparent flatness was one of the things in the book I thought could be better? And in film reviews I'm reading it seems like they strengthened her. We'll see. I think she's so good at leaning into why all of this is justified because she truly believes it. And she's looking for future leaders who can truly believe it too. And, as much as she and Highbottom apply pressures to shape this youth--including that hilarious imo scene where Coriolanus naively says "people love children"--by the end Coriolanus is writing her letters and offering himself as someone who will fit that shape in order to get the rewards it offers. There's a subtle shift as that happens that is quite nuanced. And, again, focusing on his youth is so powerful because he's a being in formation, a person being created and creating himself as an adult.

There's a *reason* why Collins opens the book with this quote:

“I thought of the promise of virtues which he had displayed on the opening of his existence, and the subsequent blight of all kindly feeling by the loathing and scorn which his protectors had manifested towards him.” — Mary Shelley, Frankenstein, 1818

Though, again, the major shift of Part 3 for me is that he begins to take an active part in forming himself and he is fashioning himself to be a winner, to fit what he believes Dr Gaul and the authorities at the military school want, hoping and fearing that he won't be able to do it so well and desperately happy when the chance at rewards for doing so is still open to him. IMO Part 3 and the Epilogue aren't the end of his journey, they're the death of other possibilities and the birth of who he's choosing to become. And even he can't fully imagine where that will go as the decades pass and the choices mount up.

That is not the kind of quote you use to begin a story about someone who was born evil to begin with. The book takes 528 pages even though it's only about a few months in one 18-year-old's life precisely because it's a carefully drawn and teased out character journey, a corruption arc. As reviewer David Ehrlich put it in his review of the movie:

is Coriolanus embracing his nature or defiling it?

It's supposed to be a question, not a foregone conclusion. And I think the weight of the text itself leans in favor of "defiling" as the answer. Though it can be interpreted multiple ways (as it should be). I think the movie only lines we have from Lucy Gray in the trailer hold true: "there’s a natural goodness born into us all.” But, in one way or another, it doesn’t just stay that way, it’s a struggle. “It’s our life’s work to stay on the right side of that line [between good and evil].”

It’s a little on the nose with the themes, but I’m cool with them having her be so clear about it since apparently it’s not clear in the book I guess????

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (10)

*The 24 OG Mentors playing “The Most Likely to” Game*

Festus: Since we’re all here, let’s start things off simple! Who is most likely to graduate with High Honors?

Androcles: That’s too easy! Coryo, Lysistrata, Urban, and Io Jasper. A.K.A the best debate kids of our year.

Diana: True. Next. Who is most likely to fail Dr. Gaul’s class?

Arachne: Sejanus Plinth and Festus Creed!

Sejanus: Wrong! My father will pay the school to let me pass her class.😎

Festus: And I’ll just ask Urban and Coryo to hack Highbottom’s computer and change my grades again.

Domitia: Typical as usual, Creed. But whatever~. Who is most likely to eat a human leg?

Coryo: *looks at Persephone Price* I think we all know that Perse-

Persephone: That was one time!

Hilarius: Your crazy dad would disagree-

Persephone: And it was Arachne Crane’s Maid!

Coryo: Percy, stop. We didn’t asked for details-

Persephone: And I was starving and she was delicious!😫

Arachne: I knew it! I knew-

Apollo: Okay! Who is most likely to use their parent’s name to get away with murder?

Dennis: Livia, Arachne, Felix, Androcles, and maybe Hilarius!

Livia: What?! I would never-

Dennis: Don’t deny it, Cardew!

Livia: Shut up, Dennis! Go suck a di-

Lysistrata: Next question! Who is most likely to disown their own parents?

Clemensia: Sejanus, Hilarius, and Iphigenia! Have you seen their defiance lately?!

Iphigenia: I’m not defiant-

Clemensia: No offense, Moss, but you’re forcing yourself to be thin as a stick, while your family literally runs the food industry.

Iphigenia: Oh, c’mon! I told you that I’m in a rebellious diet!

Vipsania: Don’t say the forbidden word, Moss!

Iphigenia: Rebellious.

Vipsania: She said it again.😱

Pup: To be fair, all of them have severe daddy issues.

Sejanus: That’s a lie. I don’t have daddy issues-

Coryo: Yes, you do, Babe.

Sejanus: Yes, I do, my love~.😍

Hilarius: True. I even gave my own father a restraining order to never secretly approach us again.

Dennis: Isn’t Mr. Heavensbee also banned from the school grounds?

Hilarius: To be fair, my mother was banned too.😔

Sejanus: What did she do?

Hilarius: My mama illegally installed secret surveillance cameras in all of our locker rooms without the Dean’s permission.😞

Juno: I’m so gonna tell my daddy about this.

Clemensia: No offense, Hilari, but your father is a creep.

Coryo: Yeah. He once tried to flirt with me and Felix.

Felix: At the freaking public library.

Coryo: And he also tried to invite me, Clemmie, and Felix to go on a secret “beach trip” with him to District 4.

Hilarius: My old man invited you guys without me?!

Coryo: That’s not the point!

Juno: Next! Who is most likely to have a crush on their assigned Tributes?

Gaius: Lysistrata and Domitia!

Lysistrata: Oh, c’mon! You can’t deny that this year’s District 12 male Tribute is just built differently~.

Domitia: And have you seen Tanner’s dance moves?! I might be the “Dairy Heiress” of Panem, but Tanner can sweep me off my feet-

Palmyra: On to the next question! Who is most likely to volunteer as a Tribute in the Hunger Games if the prize was a lifetime supply of cheeseburgers?

Hilarius: That’s so obvious! Festus and Pup are going to volunteer for sure!🤣

Festus: He’s right.

Pup: Can’t argue with that.

Io: But the real question is, who is most likely to win the Hunger Games if they were reaped as a Tribute?

Coryo: That’s so easy. Palmyra, Vipsania, Urban, and Persephone.

Florus: Please elaborate.

Iphigenia: Palmyra will win by poisoning the food and water supplies of her enemies.

Arachne: Vipsania through brute force.

Sejanus: Urban by simply refusing to die before uncovering all of the secrets of our universe.

Coryo: And Persephone will surely win by eating everyone else.

Persephone: Yeah, that’s sounds about right~.😌💅

Livia: Me next! Who is most likely to wear a ✨pink miniskirt✨ to save his comrade’s life?

Androcles: Easy again! Felix Ravinstill!

Florus: To be fair, our Class President will do anything for us.

Felix: Yes, I would.😌 But who’s the comrade who needs saving?

Apollo: Hilarius Heavensbee?

Felix: *sighs* I might beg for a longer skirt.😒

Hilarius: That was one time!

Felix: You’re just like your father, you skirt stealer!

Hilarius: I was drunk!😩

Vipsania: Next question! Who is most likely to become a ✨Sugar Baby✨?

Festus: Coryo! Definitely Coriolanus Xanthos Snow!😂

Coryo: What do you even mean by that?!

Festus: Don’t deny it, my friend! We all know that Sejanus is your sugar daddy!

Sejanus: Hi.😀

Coryo: He’s my boyfriend! Not my-

Hilarius: He’s extremely rich and he pays for your clothes, rent, and groceries. So he’s technically your ✨Sugar Daddy✨.

Coryo: You’re not wrong. But he’s still not my sugar-

Sejanus: My Coryo, my Snow Angel, marry me!! Marry me and you can have my wallet, my car keys, my gold encrusted wristwatch, my blueberry cookies, and my mansion!

Coryo: Babe, calm down! I’ll marry you next year!

Sejanus: This year!

Coryo: Sure. This year.

Livia: Wait a minute! I thought his ✨Sugar Daddy✨ was Casca Highbottom!

Coryo: Ew. That’s illegal-

Livia: I swear I saw the drunk Dean crying and calling him “Crassus, my love!” the other day!

Florus: And I thought it was Strabo Plinth.

Sejanus: Not my scheming old man!

Coryo: What the heck?! What is wrong with you?!😭

Sejanus: Stop bullying my gorgeous boyfriend!😠

Lysistrata: Besties, stop being mean to poor Coryo! We all know that the superior ship is ✨SNOWJANUS✨!

Sejanus: Yeah! Snowjanus for the win!

Coryo: I give up! Game’s over! I’m going home.

*A very drunk Casca Highbottom lurks from the corner again*

Drunk!Casca: Sickle, I am telling you the truth! Something is definitely wrong with those kids!

Prof.Sickle: You don’t say.😒

Drunk!Casca: Me? The ✨Sugar Daddy✨ of Crassus Xanthos Snow? I’m already his beloved boyfriend!

Prof.Sickle: Who?! Crassus? Do you mean Coriolanus?

Drunk!Casca: Who the heck is Coriolanus?! I only know one gorgeous Snow!

Prof.Sickle: Sure. Whatever you say, Cassy~.

Drunk!Casca: Now give me back my morphling bottles!

Prof.Sickle: Not until you give me a raise!😠

[mama-qwerty]

Okay, I reworked this piece, adding and expanding on some bits, doing some tweaking. I'm still not 100% thrilled with the ending, but it is what it is.

Now to work on the next chapter of one of my wips.

~~~~

The dread child slipped through the streets of Thunder Bay Harbor, the bustling port town of North Island. He didn’t bother to watch where he was going—people tended to get out of his way on their own. That was one of the few advantages of being an echidna, a dread child. No one wanted to interact with him, so they didn’t bother him as he went about his business.

His business today, as it was every day, was to not starve.

He rounded the corner to the market district, where shops posted stands outside their businesses to hawk their wares to the travelers who’d docked in port. New ships meant new customers—new chances for sales, for bartering, for deals to be made.

Tables and stalls lined either side of the cobblestone street, displaying everything from leather bags, to maps, to rolls of cloth in different colors and textures. Some of the fabric was shiny and smooth, imported from lands with names he’d never heard of. Those usually carried a high price tag, and only sold to people who looked like they didn’t actually need them. People who smelled of flowers and soap, their clothes clean and pristine. They also usually carried a heavy coinpurse, but nicking any from them would bring more trouble than it was worth. So he steered clear.

What did people need more sets of clothes for, anyway? Just more to haul around, honestly. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up, freeing his hands from their excessive length. It was too big for him, he’d swiped it from a clothesline a few towns back to replace his last that had grown too small, but it served its purpose for the most part. Kept him warm on cool nights, and gave him something to wipe his nose with.

Besides, the longer the sleeve, the more easily he could hide anything he snatched from distracted vendors.

He slid close to the various food stands lined up and down the street, his large violet eyes alert and watching for the owners. They hated him. Well, everyone hated him, but the store owners would overcome their aversion to interacting with him in favor of giving him a swat when they saw him anywhere near their wares. Sometimes with a broom, but sometimes with something heavier, or sharper.

It was a hard, cruel world, especially for a dread child of ten. There was no sympathy for this child on his own. No pity for an empty belly. He’d learned that long ago.

There was no kindness in the world. He’d been on his own since he was a puggle, and any memories of life before that, of family, had long since faded. He didn’t remember where he’d come from, and ultimately, it didn’t matter. The past didn’t matter. Only now. Only survival.

A few ships had come to dock over the past few days, and the marketplace was busy and bustling with people. That was good. He could move about easier if there was a crowd keeping the stand owner’s attention.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t have to keep watch against any of the newcomers, too. When he was younger, five or so, he’d nearly been snatched up by a pirate captain with a very bad reputation. He’d heard rumors about that man. Harper. He was cruel, spiteful, and cared only for himself and his status. His treasure hoard. Young boys hauled aboard his ship either died, or turned into as equally horrible people as the captain himself was. Most of his crew had been gathered as teenagers, and their nasty tendencies encouraged to a deadly degree.

It was a hard, cruel world. The dread child knew that.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to endure worse.

He refocused his attention on the task at hand.

Keep reading on ao3

[cashmeresglimmer]

Something about all of the victors relationships with each other really gets to me but there's one underrated one that really hits hard.

Haymitch and Chaff we know they were drinking buddies for years. We know about Chaff refusing a prosthetic, refusing to hide what damage the games what damage the Capitol did to him. Did his loved ones pay the same price for his rebellion as Haymitch's and Johanna's did for theirs? Was that part of the reason they bonded so much? Is that another reason why Haymitch was so protective of Katniss after the games, why he fought tooth and nail for her not to be surgically altered in anyway so that she wouldn't have to fight and wouldn't be forced to do so to protect her family?

We learn that Chaff died just minutes before Katniss took out the forcefield of the arena, that he might've made it, had it not been for Brutus. We don't know the exact circumstances of the fight between them or the exact details that follow but we do learn that Peeta is the one who then kills Brutus. Peeta throughout the series is responsible for four deaths; the girl from district 8 in the first games (the careers had already injured her, he essentially ended her suffering so that she wouldn't have a long and painful death and so that the careers namely Clove wouldn't torture her more before killing her), Foxface (a complete accident on Peeta's part. In the books she's severely emaciated and starving and neither of them know that the berries Peeta picked are poisonous. In the film there's an implication that it's a suicide as we see Foxface study plants in the training center in earlier scenes before they enter the arena), Mitchell (Peeta was highjacked and was in no way, shape or form in control of his actions) and Brutus. Brutus is the only person Peeta intentionally kills (apart from the girl from 8 but she was slowly dying as a result of her wounds already inflicted upon her), did he see Brutus kill Chaff and immediately go to avenge Chaff for Haymitch? And if Peeta hadn't fought with Brutus, would he have been rescued along with Katniss, Beetee and Finnick? Is that another reason why Haymitch tells Katniss that he can't believe she let Peeta out of her sight that night? Because had they found each other when they were calling for each other in the arena before Peeta crossed paths with Chaff and Brutus and before Katniss destroyed the forcefield, would Peeta have been rescued too? It would add a whole nother level to the devastation to his failure to get them both out too. Peeta and Haymitch's relationship after the first games is so underrated but it's one of my favorites dynamics, one that I didn't appreciate until my most recent reread. While Haymitch and Katniss are much more similar and understand what the other is saying/meaning without having to verbalize anything, we do see himself and Peeta bond, not just as team but we truly do see him (and Katniss) become the closest things Haymitch has to family. Katniss notes that it's common knowledge that Haymitch and Chaff were friends, that they've been seen drinking together throughout the years during the televised clips of the Victors and of the mentors while the games are unfolding, so even without the countless days the trio spend together accessing their fellow victors, Peeta would've been aware of their closeness. Haymitch losing his friend and failing to save another mere moments apart is gut wrenching and adds to the tragedy.

[maytheoddshq]

Much of Seven has fallen, as have pockets of Four and Nine. Vox resources are thin in an already starving society. The Tarrenfree make vicious grabs for what little resources remain, and what little parts of the supply chain the Vox government managed to re-stabilize after the Snow regime threaten to crumble.

Desperation reigns. District life is marked by hunger and scarcity. Even the Upper Districts and Capitol are scraping at the dregs of any stores that may have been shored up in more golden years. Prices of nearly everything that's left to sell balloon around Panem.

What began as a promising new start now threatens total collapse and chaos under the unexpected threat of the Tarrenfree. The Vox still wrestle for the faith of those who had thrived under Snow's Panem; many of them are frustratingly the very same with the military expertise needed in this key moment.

There are no choices left. Peace talks have failed; the Tarrenfree won't make any compromises and see this as their only opportunity. It has come to a single point: this is now a matter of survival, and all measures are on the table.

Panem may not have known justice under its previous regime, but it had known order. Order must precede justice which must precede peace.

Cacus stands before Panem behind a simple podium on the steps of the Presidential Mansion on a clear December morning. Her breath fogging the air, she declares martial law and mandatory conscription to service of one member per nuclear family unit with an eligible, able person under the age of forty to the Vox-- no, to Panem, their mother nation-- to defend against the enemies to the North.

Of course, she continues, the Vox believe in choice. Free will. It is, after all, what these measures in the short term are safeguarding for their children, their children's children, and their children afterward. If a family is unwilling to abide, that is their choice. It will be their choice for them to risk their own children, standard age rules apply, to the one-time Reaping Bowl this January for failure to comply, as they should be expected to so flippantly shirk the lives of their own children as they are those of other families and those of the future. It is, of course, only just.

The Games will go on once more. The Games will bring order.

Order must precede justice must precede peace.

[periwinckles]

Letters from New Panem - It would have happened anyway

Thump.

If Rye throws that ball to the wall one more time I’m smacking him in the head with it. This is our third day of lockdown and we are all sick of it as is, but there is nothing else we can do. We were told to wait after all. 

On the 74th Reaping day, when all the district was gathered in the main square to send two more children to slaughter the sirens sounded before anything else happened. Alarmed faces everywhere, not knowing what to do. After a couple of minutes, Mayor Undersee ordered everyone home, calling for an instant lockdown, and told us to wait for further instructions by our tv sets. Half an hour later we got a 2 minute report claiming the Capitol had fallen, and the President was dead. We were told to wait for further information. That was 3 days ago.

Thump.

“Rye, knock it off, will ya?” Dad snaps, obviously annoyed. 

Being trapped in your own house is getting on everyone's nerves. First day was easy. We baked as usual, and kept our routine. Second day it was obvious that we wouldn't be able to open the bakery, so no use in baking. Third day and we are considering breaking the lockdown just to get rid of all the excess bread, before it all goes inedible.

“I’m telling ya Dad, Peet and I can sneak around after dark, no one will catch us” Rye is now throwing his tennis ball in his own hand while he makes his case. 

“Besides, everyone has been inside their homes for three days. What if we don't hear anything else from the Mayor, or the capitol for a week? A month? Who knows who might be starving by now?” 

His eyes meet mine at the mention of “starving” and he knows I know who he is referring to. Of course I don't want her to starve, which will inevitably happen if she isn't allowed to leave her house to go hunting. We both come to a silent understanding: today we are distributing that bread after dark, even if my dad doesn't allow it. 

“Just let me think for a second, boys, maybe if we…”

“Dad! DAAAAD!”

Wheat comes running down the stairs to the bakery kitchen, where we are all seated, and all eyes are on him.

“The tv is on again!”

We run up the stairs, bread baskets and tennis ball forgotten on the kitchen table. Mom is already sitting on the couch in front of the tv, her eyes hard on the tv set, as an image of mayor Undersee appears on screen.

“Why is our Mayor on Tv?” The question is out of my mouth before I know it “Have you ever seen him on tv?” I ask my Dad, but only get a silent nod in response, and a hand gesture asking me to be quiet. 

“Dear citizens of Panem

Each district Mayor will read the following statement to their respective district. The Capitol has fallen to the hands of the Rebellion. We are pleased to inform you that said rebellion came to fruition with minimal casualties. That only happened because the rebellion's leaders got classified information that allowed them to take the Capitol without open war. 

We cannot divulge the whole extent of said information. 

What we can and will say is this: The information came in letters that were sent from the future, specifically three years from now. The first time around rebellion happened at the expense of many lives. So the nation of New Panem decided to use time-travel technology to send letters carrying specific information, valuable information that allowed us to be here today.

Many lives were spared this way. But meddling with time lines comes at a price. Each district will have to take certain measures to guarantee that their future isn't completely turned upside down and collapses. Your Mayor will give you further instructions. “

Mayor Undersee lays down the paper he was reading from and reaches down for a handkerchief to clean his forehead. We don't dare to take our eyes from the screen but we all feel the weight in the room. I can't stop wringing my hands, and suddenly I feel the urge to go pick up Rye's tennis ball, just to have something to do with my hands. I never get to it, because Mayor Undersee is already addressing the cameras, this time without a script:

“District twelve

We took a hard blow during the war that was now avoided. According to what the state of New Panem told us, only 856 district 12 citizens survived the war.”

He pauses as if he is just now processing what he just said and we all let it sink down. 856. That’s roughly 10 percent of our population. 

“Out of the 856, only 183 came back to rebuild the district that was completely bombed and destroyed. 

The good news is that 7000 of you are getting a second chance at life. But we need to ask some sacrifices from those 183. You see, we need to have some sort of continuous line, an anchor of sorts, to make sure that the change of events doesn’t create some sort of chain reaction. We need some events to stay the same, to dilute the big change we made. What we pretty much need is for those 183 residents to make their lives as similar as possible to what they are in the alternate timeline. Of course there will be differences. But mainly we need them to do two things: one, they need to stick to district twelve as their main district residency. And second, we need them to marry the same person they married in the original timeline, and produce the same offspring. 

As I speak, peacekeepers left letters at the door of each house, each letter addressed to a resident. In that letter you will find an armband. Come tomorrow, you will resume your life as usual, but every resident will be required to wear their armband visible at all times. If you receive a black armband it means that you were one of the original war casualties. If you receive a white armband it means you survived the war. Red armband means that you were one of the 183 that helped rebuild district 12.

That will be all for now. 

I will see you all tomorrow.”

As soon as he stops talking the tv shuts down and I am running down those stairs, reaching for the bakery door, Rye right on my heels. Exactly as the Mayor said, there are five envelopes waiting for us at the threshold.  

The smile barely registers on my face when I see the red fabric coming out of my envelope, until I lift my eyes to meet the rest of my family. They are all holding black armbands.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Something that has been on my mind, the capitol wanted to punish the Districts because of the Sige of the dark days but the districts have dealt with death and hunger everyday of their lives , so in any of the aus One of the tributes say something like: you couldn't deal with 3 years of hunger when we dealt with it the moment we were born!

And something from one of the kids of the food related districts say something like: we work ourselves to the Bone every day of our lives to feed you people in the capitol and yet we are not allowed to taste the fruits of our labour because it all goes to the capitol so that they stuff themselves while we starve and how you repay us ? punishment , whipping, death the hunger games so who are the ones who actually ungratefully bit the hands that feed them? The districts never needed the capitol it's you who need us

That's one cathartic AF fix-it AU you've got there.

Starting off with the tributes getting to scream their lungs out at their mentors is definitely satisfying and I hate myself whenever I can't squeeze it into a fix it. If you're reading my two fics, yes there will be angry tribute scenes in there in all of them, including the ones I haven't posted yet. I might take my computer on vacation to catch up on writing because I cannot wait to get to those scenes.

Second of all, like I mentioned in my Nero Price inspired AU, I think the Capitol would be a lot more willing to help the tributes if they were forced to see themselves in these kids (hence why I've been slowly typing up a Capitol Kids Touring The Districts fix-it) and this would at least partially do that. To make the effect big enough to inspire change before the games, lets say this happens during peak hour at the zoo. At first, the more temperamental tributes like Brandy go off on their mentors, but then some other mentor of a calmer tribute (they all came together after school before going shopping or something) finally loses their cool and you can almost hear their sanity snap as they start raising their voice and airing out all their grievances. It starts off just aimed at the mentors, but when a less sympathetic mentor like Gaius or Livia brings up the Capitol siege in a 'well you deserve this' way whatever calm the tributes managed to maintain is lost in a blazing explosion of fiery contempt. It becomes clear just how much these kids loathe the Capitol, even the ones that get along with their mentors. For maximum reach, someone films this and posts it to PanemGram or CapiTube or something and it goes viral. Discussions start, and at first many people are resistant to this new piece of information, but slowly people's egos start lowering their walls and they actually start listening to the few voices supporting the tributes on this matter.

Eventually the outcry is so big that Gaul's influence is no longer enough to keep the games going. The waning interest coupled with this newfound understanding of the tributes' disdain towards them pushes people to protest enough that president Ravinstill decides this isn't worth his career and forces Gaul to pack it up.