#thg careers

[smollandkindaannoyed]

You know what Hunger games book I want. I want a career book. I need a career book. I need to read how these kids get groomed into the mindset they have. I need to read how all of this training gets scooped into them. I need to read how these brainwashed kids realize how they were groomed, how their childlike innocence was taken from them even before entering the games and they fully lose themselves inside of the games.

Because you can not give me characters like Cato and Clove, where Clove screams for her district mate when close to death and Cato begs her to stay alive, where Cato talks about already being dead anyway so what would one more kill matter. You cant give me Coral (who I know the 10th games dont have careers yet but her mindset seems to be the closest to careers during her game) who while dying begs that it isnt fair that by dying like that she killed everyone for nothing. Like how dare these movies and books give me career characters which are just children who have been so indoctrinated with these mindssets with these ideas that winning the games will bring them glory and pride just for all of that to be shattered when they have blood on their hands and then not give me at least one book exploring this kind of character.

[clatoera]

Masterlist of Chapters: Always Remember We’re Burned For Better

hey guys! I just wanted to make a post with the links to each chapter of my Clato AU both here and on AO3 for convenience and easy tracking purposes.

I won’t be too verbose and will just get into it!

Chapter One: Crimson Clover    Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Two: Still, the Yearning Stays   Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Three: Checkmate, I Couldn’t Lose Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Four: I’ve Loved you three summers now honey, i want ‘em all Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Five: It’s Been a Long Time Coming Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Six: Everybody’s Watching to See the Fall Out  Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Seven: All These People Think Love’s For Show Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Eight: Would’ve. Could’ve. Should’ve. Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Nine: Everything was slipping right out of our hands Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Ten: Our Coming of Age Has Come and Gone Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Eleven: Baby, Let the Games Begin. Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Twelve: Meet Me At Midnight Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Thirteen: Don’t Blame Me (Love made me crazy) Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Fourteen: Who You Are Is Not What You Did Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Fifteen: If I’m on Fire, You’ll Be Made of Ashes Too Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Sixteen: I nearly lost you (I really though i’d lost you) Tumblr|AO3

Chapter Seventeen: What Doesn’t Kill Me Makes Me Want you More Tumblr|AO3

Chapter Eighteen: Not my homeland anymore...so what am I defending Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Nineteen: Always Remember We’re Burned For Better  Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Twenty: We Will Never Go Back to That Bloodshed Tumblr | AO3

Epilogue:  I Vow I Will Always Be Yours, For We Survived the Great War Tumblr | AO3

SEQUEL: Picket Fences, Sharp as Knives

Chapter One: At Dinner Parties, I Call You Out Tumblr | AO3

Chapter Two: Barefoot in the Wildest Winter, Catching my Death Tumblr| AO3

Chapter Three: All I Know, Is this could either break my heart (part 1) Tumblr| AO3

Chapter Four: ...Or bring me back to life (part 2) tumblr | AO3

Chapter Five: I once believed love would be black and white...but it’s golden. Like daylight. tumblr | AO3

Chapter Six: Not Trying to Fall in Love, but we did like Children running tumblr | AO3

Chapter Seven: They Got No Idea About Me and You tumblr | AO3

Chapter Eight: You Knew What You Wanted, and Boy You Got Her tumblr | AO3

Chapter Nine: I am what I am cause you trained me tumblr | AO3

Chapter Ten: The best thing that’s ever been mine tumblr | AO3

Prequel: You Don’t Feel Pretty, You Just Feel Used Tumblr| AO3

Associated works: because friends who write together stay together (or me being really thankful for my loves who share this with me)

1.  Dust Collected on my Pinned up hair: au of an au from @crookedlyniceperson for my girl glimmer

2. Enobaria and Cashmere being cuties talking shit drunk in bed from @bodyelectric77

3. Honeymoon: Cash and Enobaria in D1 post war  @bodyelectric77

4. In a world of boys he’s a gentleman: glimmer and marvel get together THE fic i dream of sometimes @kentwells

[your-local-ruebit-hole-detective]

You can change one single thing in The Hunger Games trilogy novels and/or movies—what is it?

Why?

Thank you 😊,

@curiousnonny

Oh, I know exactly what I’d change about the movies. The way they portrayed the kids, especially the careers. These are scared children, not killing machines. The careers never should have been villanized.

[picnic-at-dreaming-rock]

Katniss and Peeta: *stuck in a cave in a death arena trying to not succumb to either the elements or a murderous teenager with Peeta actively dying from blood poisoning and probably won’t last much longer without serious medical intervention* god haymitch is such a bitch

[sejjiplinth]

you can’t tell me that this isn’t 100% probable

also, the district 1 girl IS in the final two with haymitch. an alternating pov book would be so interesting to read!

[buuuuuuuu3]

Pushing the career district agenda for “Sunrise on The Reaping”, I just really wanna know what’s up with the career districts and how they function

[lost-in-beacon-hills]

I need people to love Cato as much as I do. I don't see enough Cato love. The way he died was atrocious but people just forget about him because he was a career and an obstacle that Katniss had to get through.

(Don't get me started on the careers. I will defend them forever.)

But he got the worst death in the series for me. It lasted for hours. He was chewed apart by mutts. He screamed and whimpered and begged for it to end. But Katniss let it drag on because she knew it's what the Capitol wanted to see. And she had one arrow left that she wrapped Peetas leg off with.

Even at 12 I knew the boy didn't deserve the way he died. It was the worst way any of them went. Most of them had fast deaths at the very least. The movie really did a disservice cutting it out. It was good to see him go a little more gently but the book showed the horror of it.

Even if you hated him by the time he died you was begging for it to end as well.

[caesarflickermans]

By the time of the trilogy, Careers and their volunteering has become a common practice as Katniss is faced with one (books) to possibly three (movies) volunteers from the so-called Career Districts.

In the prequel, volunteering is not yet a common practice. The tenth Hunger Games lack the entertainment quality the trilogy has, where we possibly get the first parade (TBOSAS, 9), a first version of stylists (TBOSAS, 11), and a sponsor system (TBOSAS, 7) with many more changes to come in the epilogue. Many have theorised that Quarter Quells did not yet exist and would later be invented by Snow and his mentor.

The First Quarter Quell remains a mystery to us outside of its premise. We learn that “as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it.” (CF, 12).

Due to its voting for a tribute, it could be possible that the First Quarter Quell popularised volunteering in some Districts.

The initial task for the First Quarter Quell indicates punishment: It wants to remind the rebels that their children are not safe, thus targeting those within the District communities who had fought against their oppressors. The election is meant to sow distrust among each other: fear that one’s neighbours will vote for one’s child. The Capitol wants to prevent another uprising by separating community.

However, some Districts might have defied this concept: They could have talked amongst each other who would be the likeliest to survive the arena, and possibly had children volunteer to be elected. This concept would have offered safety for everyone else, and those who volunteered to be voted for would likely have been seen as brave protecting those who might have had to go into the arena instead.

This tactic could have gained popularity in the Career Districts—District 1, 2, and 4—and could have been brought up the year after the First Quarter Quell:

If tributes had been seen as heroic protectors of the community, why not apply this system for the years after the First Quarter Quell? Why not have the strongest volunteer?

Through this, a culture could have developed: Different Career Districts would likely develop at different speeds and into different directions. District 2 might have developed this concept faster and moved more into the general bravery of the tributes, whereas District 4 might have taken longer and moved into the aspect of protecting the community more.

The First Quarter Quell as the starting moment for professionalised volunteering marks it as an interesting moment in history. It would line up with the other two known Quarter Quells, which both defied the Capitol in unexpected ways: Haymitch’s abuse of the forcefield as a weapon, and Katniss’ destruction of the arena are both ways that left the Quarter Quells with long-lasting effects against the Capitol.

This Quell, then, too, is a means of defying the Games. Children in the Career Districts no longer need to fear the Capitol in the same way they used to. Instead, weaker and poorer children would sleep safe and sound knowing someone will volunteer in their place.

[thesweetnessofspring]

By the time the anthem plays its final strains, all twenty-four of us stand in one unbroken line in what must be the first public show of unity among the districts since the Dark Days.

Hungertown 7/?

[clatoera]

Do you have any headcanon about other Careers like Marvel and Glimmer?

I LOVE the careers okay so here let me unload some Marvel and Glimmer opinions and headcanons okay cool 1 2 3 lets go bitch

These are head canons so <3 not necessarily canon tho I’d argue 1 and 2 are

Glimmer is not a dumb girl. She is a career, and was trained as such. That being said, I think she absolutely knew how to use that beauty and pretty smile for good use. She is the friend at the bar that can get a round of shots for everyone. She knows how to use that face for good use for SURE. All that to say, I think it was intentional that she presented herself the way she did. Pretty smile. Giggling, little ditzy. See through dress wasn’t her choice, but the girl what she’s got. It was entirely intentional to portray herself the way she did. 

Glimmer is also fucking brutal. Did y’all see her at the cornucopia?  She is a CAREER. She is TRAINED. She is a volunteer, do you really think she just came in unprepared? Absolutely not. She got a whole 9 for her score. She had to have some skill. We see her at the blood bath. And while she misses Katniss with the bow, so did Cato, and noone says he had no skill. Is it misogyny maybe so. 

I write Glimmer as being the youngest, third sibling to Gloss and Cashmere, which makes her death I the same all the sadder

Marvel’s persona is a funny guy. He’s also a career and he’s pretty damn big, but he’s funny. I think he can make anyone laugh, even in the games, I feel like he was cracking the careers up. In my au he’s sort of a comedic relief. I love him so much and I think he is so underutilized. 

Glimmer is also underutilized by fans and fic writers

I see Glimmer and Marvel getting together, because of the funny boy principle. Anyone in the world can tell glimmer she is gorgeous and beautiful, but Marvel makes her LAUGh and thats the difference. He’d also be a major simp for her lets be honest. He would worship the fucking GROUND she walks on. I think he’d make her laugh and make her smile and make her happy and it would be one of the only times she is seen for herself and yeah. I just think it would just workout well. And I will be writing them as such in my little au.

In a different world Glimmer and Clove would be friends. LIke…begrudgingly at first on clove’s behalf. And Excitedly on Glimmers. But I don’t think there has to be this competition between them. Yeah she might find her annoying, but in some au somewhere (Im writing it) they’re friends. 

Same with Marvel and Cato. Yeah they size each other up at first but I think they’d be bros.

As a result the 4 of them would be a whole career pack of friends.

Marvel is the food friend. The one who always has a sandwich infront of him, will appear next to you eating a piece of pizza. Marvel is the food friend.

Long story short I have a list of like 10 Clove and Glimmer and Marvel and Cato like.. scenes I want to write as a side story to ARWBFB I call them the side quests. And I love them.  I purposefully set it up to give them the opportunity to all become friends because theres so much potential and yeah :) Love me some glimmer and marvel. 

thank you thank you <3 Love them <3 love my bestie careers

[alavestineneas]

Home

pairing: catohadley x fem!reder

summary: He doesn't know why her flower dress comes to mind—it's a contrast to the hard truth of reality. He lost a friend here, but Cato would need to learn how to lose much more if he wanted to get the hell out of here. And he does, no matter the price. warnings: canon-typical violence; mentions of meat (as in reader owns a butcher shop); trauma and poverty word count: 6k

author's note: hello beautiful people! In honour of my birthday, I am posting about this bad boy today. Hope you like it - it was such a fun thing to write! Enjoy!

The stones under his worn boots are changing quickly; they are coloured in all shades of grey, sometimes with funny black dots on their rounded bellies. Cato would stop and collect a few if it wasn't for the important task at hand: Mom sent him to the butcher's, letting him take the thinly metaled coins for the first time, which are now snugly stored in the pockets of his raggy coat. He has the order memorized; Mom always buys the same. Three pig legs for the soup, which are then added to the porridge she cooks, and two bottles of the cheapest milk on the counter. It's good for the bones in his body, she says, and Cato believes her. Soon, he will start school; he has to be strong to get the chance to try out for the academy.

The butcher's is just around the corner; it's the only shop in their block that is always open. And, although the signboard is already faded, it is still his favourite place to visit. The door opens with a creek, and a small bell over Cato's head sings its cheerful melody. He takes a few steps inside, the colourful counters greeting him with all kinds of meat and sausages. He reads the curved writing on each of the signs carefully, trying out the way the letters come together in words. The sound of rushed steps is the only thing that breaks his mesmerization. They are soon changed by the grunting of the wood chair on the old tiled floor, and then, finally, a head pops up from behind the stands.

''Good afternoon!'' A pair of curious eyes stare at him, a smile missing a few teeth serving as a second greeting. ''What can I do for you today?'' the girl asks, changing her cheerful demeanour to a more serious, business-like tone.

Cato straightens up, his fingers finding the coins. He is a grown-up now; no other four-year-old he knows is allowed to go to the butcher's by themselves. ''I am here to buy meat.''

The girl laughs, her hair shaking with her mirth.

Cato feels the redness creep to his ears—of course, he is here to buy meat; everyone does. ''Why are you behind there anyway?'' he mutters, crossing his hands in front of himself. He thinks the girl should stop now; it's really not nice to laugh at others.

''Grandpa went to trade for bread and left me as the captain here,'' the girl boasts.

''That's a shame.'' Partly because Cato liked Grandpa Marc—he always sneaked a few pieces of candy for him and his brothers at home—and partly because he didn't like the little know-it-all. ''I would like three pig legs and two bottles of the cheapest milk,'' he declares in one breath, careful not to mess up. He isn't sure he can take another wave of her laughter.

''Sure,'' the girl nods, packing the meat in a big brown bag. Cato patiently waits as she moves her chair to reach the milk shelves, stopping before them. ''Which one again?''

''Shirley's.''

The girl doesn't move; the flowers on the back of her dress are still facing him.

''Shirley's,'' he repeats a little louder. Cato feels silly again; he doesn't like the mean girl and the way she teases him. ''Are you stupid? The one with the blue cap is Shirley's.''

''Right,'' she finally grabs it, moving to the register. Her hands work quickly, wrapping the goods and putting them together. ''The meat is this much money, '' she scrambles the numbers on the piece of paper lying nearby, ''and milk is this much.''

Cato goes over the symbols, carefully counting the total in his head. ''Here,'' he says, reaching for the money. ''And you wrote the two here wrong—it should be facing the other way, like a swan.''

''Oh. Sorry about that. Is this with change?'' She points to the colourful coins on the wood.

''Don't you know how to count? You need to give me 50 cents in change.''

''I do!'' she argues, her hand slapping the counter. ''I was just, hm, testing you!''

''Sure. Then why are you giving me two dollars back now?'' Cato raises an eyebrow. Part of him wants to laugh at her, just like she did moments ago. But he doesn't. Instead, he swaps the coins for the right amount, giving her the money back. ''Here you go. All good.''

''Thank you! Have a nice day!''

Cato nods, grabbing the bag and exiting the shop with a light heart. He did what his mom asked him to; she will be very happy to know that. The air is warm, and the soft wind is hitting him right in the face. In no time, Cato is home; the door is never locked. He places the bag on the kitchen table; Mom will see it when she puts the baby to sleep. His third brother - the other two are sleeping on the big bed in the children's room. That used to be his, but now he is a big boy—he sleeps on the couch in the living room, right near the kitchen. He likes it here; the baby's crying is not as loud, and he can see Mom as often as he wants to when she cooks.

There's not much to do right now; it's the ''quiet hours'' in Hadley's house. Usually, Cato would go play outside at this time, but instead, he grabbed the big book from the kids' shelf. There, with big, red letters, are all of the alphabets and numbers. It was his favourite. Cato remembers how mom would sit with him on her lap, her soft finger circling every picture. ''This is one. Look, it has a tiny nose, just like you do! Here, give me your hand—that's one finger you have, little gentleman!''

Cato throws one last glance at the closed door to the parent's room—he decides that mom won't be mad at him if he plays not in front of the house for once—and grabs the book, leaving the still place. This time, he grabs a few of the prettiest rocks on his way—he builds bridges and castles with them in the small creek behind their house. The butcher's is still empty when he gets there; the girl sits on the tall chair, drawing on the paper.

''What are you drawing?'' Cato asks, trying to see, but the counter is too tall for him to reach.

The girl doesn't look surprised to see him here; it's like he never left in the first place. ''It's worms. Papa worm, mama worm, and little worm. They are having dinner.''

''What are they eating? Meat?''

''No,'' she said, shaking her head. ''Meat is expensive; they have no money. They're eating a dirt pie. Here,'' the girl climbs off the chair, sitting down on the floor instead. Cato sits down near her, looking over her shoulder. ''They have small plates and spoons.''

''My dad doesn't like pies. He likes potatoes more.'' Cato thinks meat is better than pies and potatoes, but he doesn't tell Dad that. The girl tells the truth: meat is expensive.

''Where is he? At work?''

''Yeah, at the factory.'' Most people work at the factory—that's what Cato's dad says. They go when it's dark outside and Cato is still sleeping, and they return when the clock shows all zeros. Then, his dad eats while his mom drinks tea, and they whisper about something. ''And yours?''

The girl shrugs. ''I don't have one. It's just Grandpa and me. What is this?'' She points to the book in Cato's hands, and he finally remembers why he came.

''That's my book. It has numbers. Do you want to see?''

The girl beside him nods, and Cato smiles. He opens the book and proudly shows off the beautiful pictures. The girl likes them; she listens carefully to what Cato has to say about each letter. He likes it when he doesn't laugh at him.

-

''Good morning, Grandpa Marc!'' Cato greets the man behind the counter, cutting up yet another piece of meat. It's early, but he already stands in the butcher's, his dad's old bag on his shoulder. They can't be late for the academy.

''I'm coming, I'm coming!'' YN shouts, biting into the apple in one of her hands and tucking in her shirt with the other. ''Bye, Pa, see you!''

They both passed the exam for the academy; only four people from their neighbourhood did. They got the chance only because they were ''exceptional'' students, the only four whose training was free for now. The debt will be paid by them volunteering or after the academy through their future salaries. Cato knows that no one is actually able to pay it off; he will volunteer as soon as possible. YN will go; they agreed to go in different years.

That's how it always was with them—they walked to the academy and home together, trained, and learned together. Cato helped Grandpa in the shop, and YN often looked after his brothers. It was the endless stream of jokes from everyone around—you never saw one without the other, not even on the rating board. That was until year nine.

''I decided I'm not going to sit with you at lunch,'' Cato tells the girl walking beside him on the dusty road.

YN doesn't answer right away; she watches her feet instead. ''Let me guess—you will be with the mayor's son and his pack?''

''As a matter of fact, yes. They are my friends, and they invited me to sit with them.'' It annoys him the tone she is using.

''They are not your friends, Cato. They only do that, so you will volunteer for them when the time comes.'' YN is angry; her hands on the straps of the backpack are tightly clenched.

''So what? I'm going to volunteer anyway, so why not sit with them? There is nothing to do here, and they are always hanging out at movies or something.''

''Oh, so that's what it is about.'' YN stops, turning to him. ''You want to be one of them now.''

''Of course, I fucking do!'' Cato exclaims. ''We are dirt poor, YN. I don't want to live all my life in this shithole.''

YN's face changes; her eyes look at him as if for the first time. ''This is home, Cato. This is where we belong.''

''I don't. And I will find a way out of here, and you can stay in this mud as much as you like, but I will not let you drag me down with you.''

She slaps him. The hit is heavy; they are both trained to take blows, but it stings him more than it should. Cato watches as YN leaves, her quick steps echoing on the empty street in the morning fog. He doesn't know why her flower dress comes to mind—it's a contrast to the hard truth of reality. He lost a friend here, but Cato would need to learn how to lose much more if he wanted to get the hell out of here. And he does, no matter the price.

-

YN can live without him as much as he does, she tells herself. She didn't decide to ruin the friendship, so she won't be the one to apologize, no matter how long the silence lasts. If he thinks that she will run back to him after four months of not talking, he is wrong. YN is fine; she still has two friends at the academy, she still has her grandpa and the beautiful sun above her head. It smiles at her every time she walks home alone, filling in the small gap in her chest with its golden rays. Her new companion.

What she doesn't expect is a group of people in front of the shop; they shout and argue, running around with ice and water in their hands. YN runs too; something happens. Fear rises in her stomach and travels to her throat when she sees the white coat of the doctor standing near the counter, a concerned expression on his face. ''I'm sorry,'' he tells her. YN clutches her bag, trying so hard not to cry as the crowd of familiar faces surrounds her.

He fell while trying to reach for the shelf, and a customer found him unconscious on the floor. Grandpa broke seven bones in his body and damaged his head. They are taking him to the hospital for, god knows, how long. The doctor places a hand on her shoulder; the cost of surgery is covered by the state, but she needs money for the medicine. They don't have any.

YN spends an hour crying into her pillow before pulling herself together—she is alone. It's not some stupid game they play—they pretend to win for years in the generated arenas in some big green boxes—it's life. The most brutal arena of all. So, she does what any fifteen-year-old would do—she washes her face with ice-cold water and grabs the keys from the shop. She has to speak with a few people.

-

The door to Hadley's home is never locked; nobody closes it in their neighbourhood, but YN still knocks out of respect. Cato opens it; she is surprised he is here and not with his new friends. He wants to say something, but YN has no time for him.

''Is your dad home?'' YN asks, trying to look over his shoulder.

Cato nods. ''Come in. Mom, it's YN.'' He shouts, closing the door behind her.

''Ah, YN. How is Grandpa Marc?'' She is cooking something—a big pot boiling with the best smell one could imagine.

The woman's concerned face stirs something in YN, so she fights the urge to cry and swallows her tears instead. ''Alive

''Come sit with us; we were just preparing to eat.''

YN wants nothing more than a plate of something warm, but she declines. She came here not to lessen the portion of someone; nobody here has money to make extra food. ''Thank you, but I need to speak with Mister Janus.''

''Spill it.'' Mr. Janus nods, standing up from the couch.

''Can we speak outside?'' YN asks, feeling a pair of blue eyes on her.

''Of course,'' Mister Janus shares a look with his wife before stepping outside. ''What happened, kid?''

YN takes some air inside her lungs. ''Is there a place for me at the factory for the night shifts?'' The man opens his mouth to argue, but YN is quicker. ''I know I am young, but I am strong from all the training, and I know a lot of useful things. I can reach where most men can't, and I will do anything you ask me to, I promise.''

Mister Janus sighed. ''I know you are good, but what about the academy? Night shift is six to six; you won't have time to get enough sleep and do the homework.''

''I quit the academy.''

''What?'' Mister Janus's face changes. ''YN, why? It's the only chance for you to survive.''

''Work is the only way for me to survive. Poverty and an empty stomach will kill me much faster than some games. I need the job, Mister Janus, please. If you don't give it to me, I will look for it elsewhere.''

The man thinks, his forehead creased with worry. ''Fine, kid. But be careful—get enough rest and don't push yourself too hard. We are here to help if you need us to.''

''Thank you, thank you so much!'' YN smiles, a few tears escaping her eyes. She hugs the man tightly, a glimmer of hope finally appearing. ''Thank you, Mister Janus; I will not let you down!''

Mistes Janus smiles back, patting her back. ''Go before it gets too dark; I'll see you tomorrow at five thirty.''

He watches as YN turns the corner of the street before returning to the warmth of his house. How much do these kids have to endure in this world?

-

YN didn't push herself too hard; she simply did what she was supposed to do. At six, she returned to the shop after the shift at the factory—butcher's opened at eight—so she had two hours to wash the dirt and sweat away with the old basin and a little warm water from the kettle and to master something edible on the stove. When that was done, she would dissect the meat and check the dates on milk bottles; the soon-gone bad would go to the sale section, and the new ones took their place. Then, the doors of the butcher's opened—people still needed to eat, and YN wasn't about to let them starve because of her own ''tiredness.''

The heaviest flow was in the morning, with the shop becoming quieter in the afternoon—that's when she took most of her sleep in, resting her head on the wooden counter and closing her eyes for a second. Oftentimes, customers would find her like this—they gently shook her shoulder and woke her up before ordering. Each time, YN felt shame creep to her cheeks, but each time, no one said a word to her; they just smiled, thanked her, and left the shop with a big brown bag in her hands.

That's how the rest of the year passed, with it becoming slightly easier when Grandpa was finally discharged from the hospital. His right arm didn't move like it used to, and it was hard for him to walk, but it was still better to have someone home to return to. Besides, he insisted on still serving the customers, so YN had an opportunity to sleep in her own bed for a few hours before a new portion of cut meat was delivered.

That's what she thought about standing in the main square in a crowd of children—how much meat she needed to cut before her shift. Grandpa was also here; some man had to hold him up so he wouldn't fall from being on his legs for too long, but he could at least enjoy the fresh air, which YN was grateful about.

The reaping was going quickly; the girl named was from the academy, so they didn't have to go through all that volunteering. YN didn't know her personally, but she saw her a couple of times; she was good with knives. As for the boys, it didn't go as smoothly—some poor eleven-year-old's name was called out, and he burst out crying on the spot.

''I volunteer!'' the voice boomed through the street, and YN turned with everyone to see who it was, although, in her head, she knew the answer.

Cato. He walked to the stage calmly, his legs conquering the steps in no time. He looked determined and happy, but YN knew better—that's what they taught them to present. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. Killers. She hears distant cries from the crowd behind her—it's probably Miss Hadley. YN clenches her jaw, her teeth grinding together until her head rings. It isn't the time for her to break.

-

Cato can't bear to watch his mother's puffy face as she clenches her arms around him, whispering something like a prayer into his chest. His father is silent, a lonely tear escaping his eye as he holds Cato's youngest brother closer. The twins are also here; both of them are at the academy, so they have a faint idea of what he is doing. They tell him he will win because of how big he is, and that will be very easy. Cato smiles at them reassuringly—if only it were that easy.

''Dad,'' he nods in the direction of his crying mother.

''Come on, darling, you will upset him before the games,'' his father tells her, carefully pulling her way and placing a hand on Cato's shoulder. ''Stay strong, my boy. We will all be rooting for you every second you are in that arena; don't forget that.''

''Thank you, dad. Boys,'' he watches as twins show each other away, trying to get to bed first. He hugs them both; he has two hands for a reason. ''Behave and don't bother mom too much, or I'll have to kick your ass once I get back,'' he whispers into their heads.

The youngest one waves goodbye, blowing him a kiss. Cato smiles, watching his family leave the room. He wants to remember this moment forever, to put it in his pocket, and to never let it go. He knows why he is doing this—for them to have a better chance at life, for his father to finally have a day off, and for his mom to have new pots she secretly gazed at when she thought he wasn't looking.

''Hadley. Seven minutes.'' The peacekeeper announces, opening the door once more, even though Cato doesn't expect anyone else. Well, he hoped she would come—he really wanted her to—but he believed she never would. YN is not the type. Still, she is here. Closing the door behind her, in a simple blue jumpsuit and a nice scarf around her head.

''Hi,'' she nods. ''I came to say goodbye.''

Cato's heart skips a beat—those words hit harder than seeing himself on the big screens, with a tribute written under them. Soon, he may be dead; she will watch him on her small TV in the living room.

YN speaks quickly, almost in a rush. ''I know we don't speak anymore, but I know how you fight—you are capable of winning more than everyone else out there. Please, just don't think too much about what you are doing; just do it, okay?''

''Yeah, I'll try.'' He finds it weird that she doesn't want him to think, but Cato doesn't question why—she does know him better than anyone, having been training for a lot of years side by side.

''You have to return; your family needs you.''

''Don't worry too much about them; we already got the money for my volunteering from the mayor. They will be fine; dad can still work, and twins could help out. You have enough on your shoulders as it is. How is Grandpa Marc?''

''Better. He can't move like he used to and still needs help with walking and eating, but other than that, it's good. Although he is devastated that I didn't let him handle the meat, you should've seen how he tried to sneak a few knives at night.''

Cato's lips turn into a smile. ''That does sound like him.''

''Oh, I almost forgot. Here,'' YN rumbles in her pockets before taking a few pieces of candy out. ''We thought you should have a few.''

''You are kidding me? Lucky-talkies? I haven't had one in ages!''

YN laughs at his excitement, carefully placing the sweets in his hand. ''I know. They are as hard as they used to be; don't chip your tooth; it'll look bad at the promotion.''

Cato chuckles, pocketing the candy before his mentors have a chance to take it away. ''Thanks, YN. For everything.''

''I'll give you as much as you want if you don't die in there. Just try to stay alive, okay?''

''Easier said than done. But I'll try.''

YN smiles. Their time is up. The peacekeeper opens the door for her, his gun tangling dangerously around his neck. She doesn't turn around as she exits; her walk is steady. Cato thinks that he caught her shoulders shaking, but it could be just a twist of his tired brain.

-

The days after that are agony. YN doesn't know if it was her tiredness that finally caught her in a narrow corner or the grim reality of her life—it was definitely both. Even her favourite silent friend didn't cheer her up like it used to—the sun shone almost violently, burning her skin and leaving her body dizzy. The rotten cycle was now worsened by the non-stopping playing of what seemed to be a thousand screens, with stomach-curling screams echoing from time to time. They were everywhere—at the shop and their small flat above it, on the main square she passed each day, and, what was worse, they were at the factory, where she couldn't pretend to watch even for a second.

The work she does is heavy—carving the stones on the machinery bigger than her; her muscles were constantly aching, begging for a break. The suit she wore was too tight and too hot, and the annoying voice of the announcer blared through the speakers, stealing the air in her lungs. YN wanted nothing but to make it stop—for the world to go silent and still, even if just for a moment. But wonders didn't happen with people like her, so she continued to work, pushing herself through her gritted teeth.

''Welcome, welcome to what seems to be the last day in this beautiful arena!'' The blue-haired man spoke, his accent making YN's head hurt even more. ''To remind our dear viewers all across the Panem, here is a small recap from my colleague and sometimes friend, Claudius.''

''Thank you, Caesar. We are left with only three tributes on day eighteen—the first, of course, being Cato from District 2. His strategy has proved efficient so far; no doubt, he is one of the best contestants we've seen in a long time. And then, much to my surprise, a pair of tributes from District 12 are still in the games—their love story truly captivated the audience. Let's see what this day, or should we say night, brings us today and who will have the odds in their favour in the end.''

YN doesn't react to their comments; it feels wrong to compare herself to the kids out there, being selfish enough to think she deserves a break. She should be counting her lucky stars; it isn't her there, going through the bodies of the competitors one by one. Cato received body armour from the sponsors; that was good. He also lost his district partner; YN remembers her now; she was in his ''new'' friend group. She feels sorry for the girl; her death was awful, and her screaming Cato's name will forever be engraved in YN's memory.

''Aha, here he is! Our gladiator from District 2—he is running from—what's that?—wolves! Look at that speed—he surely is a good runner!''

YN turns her attention to the giant screen—surely enough, Cato is running from some monstrous creatures. He is bloodied; his skin is covered in bruises. YN prays it all will stop soon and he will get home safe. He doesn't even flinch when the arrow shot by twelve hits his chest; he just keeps running towards the Cornucopia.

''Please,'' YN whispers. He can't die, not when he has survived for so long.

''Look at them—all of the tributes managed to get on the Cornucopia just in time! Oh, here is a clever move from Cato's side: having Peeta in a headlock is a classic move. Now, he is sort of a ''human shield''. Brilliant!''

"Go on, shoot.'' Cato's voice booms through the speakers, sending shivers down YN's back. She missed hearing his voice, but it didn't even sound like him anymore. Like a stranger talking from the inside of what looked like her friend. '' And we both go down, and you win. Go on. I'm dead, anyway! I always was, right? I didn't know that until now. Isn't that what they want, huh?''

What the fuck was he doing? YN's mind raced—why won't he just kill him and get it over with? She doesn't notice how her hands begin to shake and how everyone else in the room seems to be eyeing her.

''No! I can still do this. I can still do this. One more kill. It's the only thing I know how to do. Bring pride to my district. Not that it matters."

''Kill him! For fuck's sake, just kill him!'' YN stands up, her nerves getting the best of her. Her voice echoes—she didn't mean to say it out loud.

''No talking!'' The peacekeeper in front of her shouts, his hand steady on the gun.

YN turns to face him slowly. Who was he to tell her to shut up when it was her friend who was dying right before her eyes? She feels her hands clench into fists; she will be able to take him down in a fight, maybe even kill him. YN was willing to try, at least.

''She won't talk no more,'' one of the older men in the group mutters, his voice bitter. ''Sit down, child.''

YN wants to argue, wants to scream or run until the bullet catches up to her, but she doesn't. What use would her dead body be to her grandpa? So she sits down, biting her cheek until her mouth fills with a familiar iron taste. Everything she wants to say, she tastes in her throat instead.

''Wait, can we zoom in on here?'' One of the announcers asks. ''Here, yes, what exactly are they staring at? It fell from Cato's pocket, right?''

'''Well, Claudius, it looks like a candy wrap to me. The real question is: why does Cato have one in the first place? He didn't strike me as a big sweets fan. ''

''Well, whatever it is, it seems to have changed his mind—look at how masterfully he throws Peeta down, like a feather! Oh, and now he is lurching for the girl on fire!''

A loud snap is heard through the speakers, and the girl falls, lifeless. YN covers her face with her hands, the dirt from them leaving a mark on her sweaty face. A choir of relieved exhales rings through the room.

''Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have our 75th victor!''

- 

It's hard, the first thing Cato realizes. Being here, breathing in the air that feels like spikes inside his lungs—everything was supposed to be easy, but it's so far from that. They have a nice house now; it has a room for each of his brothers, and even twins don't have to share anymore. His dad doesn't work; it's not fitting for victor's family to do so, so he takes up gardening instead. If a few years ago Cato heard that his father would ramble about how badly roses had grown on this soil, he would've checked himself into a mental asylum.

He isn't very loved in the Capitol, but his mentors said it was for the best. Cato believes them, but it stings a little. He wanted glory but got disgusted instead. It was not a fair trade, but at least his debt is paid, as is his brothers'. Money could buy a lot of things, just like he predicted, but it couldn't buy him peace. Cato has nothing ahead of him; he can't study like his peers do, can't work, can't live, and pretend it didn't happen. It very much did—when he closes his eyes, he can still smell the blood on his hands.

That's why he is here instead of Victor's village, eating ice cream on the empty main square in the warm evening. It's funny to think how he wanted to try it, collecting the money his father let him have for almost a year before ordering his first chocolate scoop. It was the tastiest thing he had ever eaten; now, it tasted just like every other one.

He hears the nearing footsteps—the people are returning from the day shift in the factories. Cato nods to a few of them—old neighbours, parents of classmates, or dad's friends. The men are all different—short and tall, ginger, blond and brunette—but they all bear the same expression that Capitoleers called ''a district 2 glare'' once. Cato used to get angry when he heard it, but now his face is no different—the word is a heavy thing to endure.

His eyes drift to the only person looking up and not on the road ahead—of course, it's YN. She thinks about something only she and the sun know, her steps mirroring those of the people ahead. One of the men notices him watching; he gently shoves her shoulder, whispering something in her ear before pointing in the direction of his seat. Suddenly, Cato wants to hide the ice cream in his hand and run away, but he doesn't.

''Enjoying your victory, Mister Hadley?'' Her voice is loud and filled with teasing, and a few men snicker at them.

Cato isn't angry; he deserves it, quite frankly. ''Always was known for the sweet tooth,'' he shrugs. ''As a matter of fact, are you free any time soon?'' He asks when the crowd is far enough away.

YN raises an eyebrow at him. ''Why is that? You know I work.''

''I was hoping you and your grandpa could come by sometime. Mom is awfully lonely, and the boys would love to see you, too.''

She nods. ''I am free on Sunday, but Grandpa is still a little shy about eating in front of people.''

''I'll ask mom to cook a soup then—it's better?'' He would cook the damn soup himself if it meant seeing her for longer than five minutes. If it meant not being alone in that house, that reeked of the arena.

''Yes, I think we can do that. What about 12? We could be a little late with all that walking.''

''Thank you; it's perfect.''

YN smiles at him. For the first time since he won, someone smiled at him. Cato smiles back, although he is sure it comes out more as a grin. YN doesn't notice or pretends to do so.

- 

''Oh, come in! Janus, come right down; the guests are here!''

YN and her grandpa are greeted with Miss Hadley's voice, her warm hands wrapping first around her, and then the older man. YN smiles; she missed just sitting down for a meal without having to worry about how much money she was going to need for the next one. The boys have grown. They shout, each trying to be the first to show her their own rooms and the cool things they have. YN tries not to get lost in the maze of toys, balls, books, and a thousand other different things, while Grandpa talks with Mr. Janus.

When the boys start to embark on what feels like a fifth circle around the house, Miss Hadley puts an end to it. ''That's enough! YN, darling, come sit here—what would you like to eat?''

The table is full of different things. There are so many that they could eat for a few weeks and be full. YN doesn't think she saw that many vegetables and fruits in her life. She asks for what everyone is having and is happy to have her plate full. Grandpa also seems to be enjoying himself; he insists on wearing his best shirt for the occasion and now listens attentively to what the twins have to say. They make a good team, YN thinks—twins finally found free ears that are not yet tired of them, and there is nothing that Grandpa loves more than a good story.

When the dinner is over, YN speaks, talking to Miss Hadley beside her. ''Thank you for the invitation; your house is just lovely.''

''Cato made us clean every corner of it before you came—I didn't even have time to play outside!'' The youngest boy whines, pouting slightly.

YN chuckles as she watches colour gather at Cato's ears, his eyes glued to the dish in front of him. ''Well, it was definitely worth it—I had the most marvelous time with you here. And the food was delicious! But I am afraid we have to go; Grandpa should walk when it's still light outside.''

''We will take you home,'' Cato announces, nodding to the twins to put on their shoes. They do so happily, grabbing them and their jackets before Grandpa has a chance to stand up and stick to his side like glue.

The evening is pleasant; the wind is quite chilly, but Cato doesn't mind. The only sound on the street is twins arguing over who will help Grandpa Marc with his cane for the next two minutes.

''Thank you for coming,'' he says, looking at the woman walking beside him.

''Of course. We had a good time, - I hope you did too. How's life been? We haven't talked in a while.''

''Good,'' Cato lies. ''And yours?''

''Better. Since your dad quit, I got the day shift; it pays better, and I can finally get rid of those horrible dark circles.''

Cato nods. ''I've been thinking a lot about our past these days, especially our childhood. It feels like a lifetime ago.''

''Things change,'' YN shrugs. ''We've grown and become different people since then. I would've never imagined working at the factory, but here I am. And you win the games—that was your dream.''

''Don't you miss it? How easy were things back then?''

YN smiles. ''They never were easy, I think; we just couldn't understand them properly. Besides, not much changed, if you think about it.''

''Maybe not for you.''

''Why?'' YN turns to look at him.

Cato swallows. ''YN, they made me different. The games, all those kills—they changed me.''

''You did what you had to survive. It doesn't matter now that you are here.''

''You think I don't notice how people tiptoe around me now? How can Mom stand to look at me for more than a minute? How do boys try to avoid me at all costs? And dad—he doesn't even speak to me! ''

YN is silent. Cato curses in his mind—he shouldn't have said that. He takes a deep breath. ''I'm sorry. It just feels weird. It's like I don't have a home to return to and can't get into a new one. Just hanging there, mid-air.''

''When Grandpa was in the hospital, that's how it felt. I was too young to be alone, but there was no choice but to watch as everything I once loved fell into ruins. I was supposed to be going to movies, partying, and sneaking out, not juggling the bills from medication and the shop. But life decided otherwise. So, I built my own home within myself—one that nothing could tear down or take away.''

''I don't think there is anything left to build on. I'm not like you; everything anyone sees when they look at me is a monster .''

''I don't.'' YN stops. ''I see the boy who brought me a pretty big book with pictures so I could give the change correctly; I see a man who volunteered for his family to have a chance at a better life. I see you, real you, not the role mentors or Capitol made you play. Just Cato.''

''Can I hug you?'' His voice is barely above a whisper.

YN doesn't answer - she just takes a step closer into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

''I'm sorry; I am so sorry for everything I've done," Cato mutters, his hands trembling as he holds onto YN tightly. ''I should've said it sooner. ''

''It doesn't matter now. We survived this; we are still here, you and I.''

Cato nods; his tears mix with hers, pooling in patches on his shirt. They are different—children who were forced to grow up too early in a world that wasn't for them. ''I think I never lost it—my home. It was always here, with you, on this street. Isn't it funny? All those years of searching, only to return here, where we truly belong?''

''The butcher's, you mean? If you wanted more candy, you could've just asked,'' YN smiles, whipping away her red eyes.

-

''Fucking finally,'' an aged voice mutters from behind the corner.

''Grandpa Marc!'' the twins turn to him, surprised.

The old man just smiles, his wrinkled face appearing younger with joy. ''Don't tell YN I said that. She'll never let me live it down."

The twins giggle, their happy laughter echoing on the street. A few moments later, Grandpa Marc joins in, his breathy laugh adding to the chorus. It's not the first time the street leading to the butcher's was woken up by sounds of joy, and he hoped it wouldn't be the last.

[mellarkdandelion]

Hunger Games Behind The Scenes Pics!

+ a bonus gif ;*

working on this set must’ve been so fun :,)

[sherwood-scribblings]

Sunrise on the Reaping theories + thoughts so far (pt 1)

here's a collection of the most likely and most interesting head-canons and stuff I've seen, both fandom-made and my own

NOT MINE BUT EXPANDED & CONNECTED BY ME:

• Tigress pov, as an audience member, maybe she's Haymitch's designer

• we got a tribute pov, a mentor pov, now we could get an audience pov because of the themes of propaganda she emphasizes... we could also get multi pov if she wants to do smth crazy and appease all fans

• Unreliable narrator, perhaps screwing with the reader's head on what actually happened in the games, capitol editing footage out

• Perhaps Tigress observes the games and originally starts off oblivious to the truth but the more she watches and helps Haymitch the more she begins to see the truth, and so the capitol punishes both her and Haymitch for it

• Lucy Gray is midnight, Haymitch/Maysilee is sunrise, Katniss/Peeta is sunset (symbolic of the progression of the games. Lucy Gray wiped out and forgotten, Haymitch the escaped glimmering sliver of change, Katniss the blazing fire and finale)

• Maysilee wore the mockingjay pin in the arena but the capitol edited it out of all the footage

• Themes of light vs dark, truth vs lies, the audience starts out unaware and conflicted but comes to see how things really are

• Katniss parents could appear??? Maybe we'll see Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen fall in love??

MY THEORIES + THOUGHTS:

• (canon) The arena is an illusion. Flowers, water, fruit, mountains, animals. It's beautiful, heavenly, too good to be true, it doesn't seem real... well, it's not real. Everything seems normal and like you know what it is, but the Entire Setting is actually poisonous and deadly. JUST like the theme of propaganda and lies, she says the book is about. The arena itself is a meta layer to things not being as they appear.

• the cover will have a mockingjay and a sunrise or sun-flare, gold against purple

• the "sunrise" in the title is symbolism, for a person and a theme, likely symbolic of Maysilee Donner because of her kindness and humanity and spirit casting light in the face of violence and war (the reaping). A light the capitol would've snuffed out, to hide the truth. (I have a whole essay on this + maysilee's importance pls check my feed)

• Maysilee is the real mockingjay, and very important, not just a random dead background character who passed down the pin to Katniss. We know how Collins' brain works. Look at TBOSAS. Look at how she foreshadowed Lucy Gray as early as the first book. 

• the mockingjay isn't just one person, but a symbol of resistance and goodness and freedom, that anyone can take on as a mantle, an idea rather than tied to one thing or person. Lucy Gray, Rue, Katniss, and likely Maysilee.

• a rebellion almost happened with the mockingjay pin and Maysilee and Haymitch and perhaps Tigress seeing the truth last minute, but the capitol snuffed it out and destroyed all the evidence of such a thing ever happening, including Haymitch's family and punishing Tigress, leading Panem and the readers themselves in the dark and at peace. Maysilee is the warm sun to bring the spark of a fire, her pin symbolically passes onto Katniss through her niece, thus passing on the resistance and legacy. ....symbolic of how the mockingjay had the will to survive, even when it was destroyed and wiped out.... It escaped and became stronger in the face of its enemies....

• ...for all we know, Katniss' dad didn't die in a coal mining accident, but perhaps was a rebel himself and the capitol planted explosions in the mines to get rid of him. we can't just blindly trust the narrative.

• If Haysilee is a parallel to Everlark, what if Haymitch's girlfriend is a Gale figure? This isn't just because I'm a haysilee shipper I'm built to be a multishipper I'm FIGHTING not to be biased I'm openminded, but i feel the haysilee content in my bones and it's definitely a possibility

• the capitol (and Snow) believes that humanity is vile, that humans will always give into instinct and fend for themselves, that you can't trust or love or anyone lest it lead to your downfall. So... If Ballad was about humanity's corruption, perhaps Reaping is about humanity's goodness (the bond between Haymitch and Maysilee, Tigress seeing the truth despite being a capitol/audience member, perhaps the Capitol cut the footage of that bond to prevent a rebellion like Everlark's relationship later induces) 

• Most people are saying this book will be super depressing and focused on the capitol's propaganda succeeding to stop a rebellion, and I do agree, but, that doesn't cancel out highlighting themes of goodness and friendship but rather enhances them. Perhaps that very thing is what we're missing from the footage, what the capitol succeeded in covering up, raw humanity being the thing that defies their propaganda the most, and punished anyone who acted otherwise (Haymitch, Tigress...)

PART 2 IS COMING SOON to address the fandom discourse with my personal thoughts on whether this book will be about Haymitch and if we need more District 12.

and why Collins would logically choose to tell this story (regardless of pov because that could be anything at this point she'll upset someone either way)

[catoscloves]

one of the many things to love about katniss is that she's not spiteful, or revenge minded, no matter how many reasons society and her circumstances give her to be, and always has empathy for others.

and this extends to people she doesn't have much emotional connection to. for as much as she regarded the careers as the capitol's well trained lapdogs, she killed cato out of mercy rather than revenge. she acknowledged that cato and clove could have survived if her and peeta hadn't, that someone like marvel who murdered her ally (a twelve year old, the most innocent and vulnerable person in the arena and who katniss saw as a sister) might have had a life to go back to, a home with family members waiting for his return. she felt guilty during her interactions with gloss and cashmere because she killed children from their district that they might have mentored. katniss explicitly said she did not like enobaria as a person, but didn't want to exclude her from the protection deal with coin.

katniss also has a kind view of people that, as cinna himself said, she should have despised. the capitol citizens are vapid and privileged and watch children like her die for their entertainment every year. yet katniss still forges a relationship with cinna and is able to be vulnerable and share her private stories and treasured memories with him acting as the capitol audience. and while she sees her prep team as ignorant and childish pets, she does have affection for them and objected to them being tortured in district thirteen. even though effie literally comes to her district representing the most evil aspect of the capitol and every year sends two children from her home to die, katniss still sees her redeeming characteristics, bonds with effie, and makes an effort to spare her from the rebels.

no matter who the person is or what they might have done to her/her loved ones, katniss recognizes humanity in everyone and attempts to limit the suffering of others when possible, regardless of her personal opinion about them.

[moowithmidnight]

One thing about me is I’m always gonna defend the Careers. What do you mean you don’t see the tragedy in kids so heavily brainwashed they think being forced to murder other kids is an honor? What do you mean you don’t think about how terrifying it must be for Career victors when the illusion breaks but they survive? What do you mean you don’t see the parallels between the 74th and 75th Careers and lose your mind?

[allisluv]

saying that annie can’t be a career because she’s too kind or can’t fight or because she “didn’t kill anyone” is so funny to me because we don’t actually know much of anything about annie and her games - beyond her district partner getting beheaded and the sight of it driving her mad, and she won because the arena flooded and the remaining tributes drowned. that’s it. we barely get glimpses of annie’s personality, beyond a handful of lines and descriptions. but, in the books, district 4 is stated to be a career district just like 1 and 2. and annie being a career who broke due to her games can be very heartbreaking and compelling to read - the idea that all the preparation in the world can’t truly help her in the end, that they’re all still just children in a system made to exploit them, that she saw the very gruesome death of a person she grew up and trained alongside and it was too much to handle. but she was trained to fight and survive, and that’s just what she did, albeit she didn’t come up the same girl she was before. but no one who wins does. johanna states in the books “don’t get me started on annie cresta” when talking about how the games change people, and i think that in itself speaks on a massive shift in her character bc of what she saw and likely did.

sorry this got long and rambling but i have a lot of feelings about career annie 😂

anon i can't describe how perfectly you worded this. no amount of training in the world would be able to prepare someone for seeing another person being decapitated in front of you. honestly, ive loved to hear everyones theories over the last few days and this is hands down one of my favourite explanations ive read so far <3