#glimmer and marvel thg

[clatoera]

What’s everyone’s phone lock screen in ARWBFTB au :) just thought I’d send a fun one today 😅

Oh this is sooooo fun omg especially bc like…theres so many options ✨Ironically the answers are mostly like…each other. I’m so excited okay sooo

Cato’s is definitely Clove looking annoyed. Like giving him enough attitude in her face that you can see it in the picture. I don’t know exactly what she was doing IN the picture but she looks annoyed and he loves it. Thats the like outside lock screen picture, the INSIDE  picture is absolutely one that should not be seen publicly. LIke…absolutely not for public consumption but for his yes indeed okay. He later becomes obsessed (and I mean obsessed) with pictures of Clove and their son so it’s an ever changing combo of pictures he takes of them. Not the inside picture. That one NEVER Changes (except to other pictures that should not see the light of day).

Clove’s is the two of them together probably looking at each other and not at the camera. She’s probably in his lap, they’re probably staring at each other, her arm over his shoulders kinda thing. Like taken candidly by one of their friends at a party or something, like Glimmer seems the type to just take random pictures of people and friends because love is all around her blah blah blah. So yeah. It’s them together. Looking hot. The usual. His giant hands on her waist is a focal point. 

Finnick and Annie absolutely have the same exact picture, it’s each other and their son like a professional picture of the three of them probably on the beach. They do that thing where they’d both pick up each others phones and get so confused when they lock themselves out because they cant tell them apart. 

Marvel’s is Glimmer. He’s in the picture too but the focus is very much Glimmer like he’s stand-in behind her with his arms around her shoulder and he’s Clearly saying something in her ear because she’s laughing and THATS why it’s his favorite because she’s laughing and smiling and there is literally nothing he likes better than Glimmer being happy enough to actually laugh at something. It later becomes ever changing pictures of Glimmer and the girls and they are definitely all three matching and have the same smile and eyes and hair and it’s everything and it changes like monthly because theres constantly new outfit updates. 

Glimmer also I think has two. The like front lock screen is definitely her girls. All different variations of them but it is always them together. Usually in matching outfits. Or like snuggled up together. She is DEEPLY obsessed with them. The inside picture like barely ever changes it’s from when the girls were really little and they were exhausted with two little babies and it’s him asleep on like the recliner or something with both of them also sleeping onto of him. It’s a favorite of hers. 

Enobaria’s is just Cashmere. Like at a wedding or something with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. Or like laying in bed. Or literally just any way shape or form of cashmere. But it’s not like the capitol/D1 glamour shots it’s her all excited in the winter bundled up holding her little peppermint coffee, or laying on the beach in 4 in a big sun hat. Or one specific moment in the like 6 weeks of whirlwind wedding planning of Glimmer which involved Cashmere literally laying in the living room covered in sparkly light pink tulle and flowers because it was literally covering the entire house. Like moments where she seems genuinely happy and genuinely smiling because thats the part of her she never got to be prewar ya know? Sometimes rarely it’s the two of them together but mostly it’s like..just little happy pictures of cash. 

Cashmere’s is always people together. The like main one is usually her and Enobaria, like one of them looking at each other at one of the like 7890 parties they end up at post war and by that I mean dinner parties and weddings. Theres a picture of the two of them at Glimmer’s, Enobaria covered in a layer of Glitter from Cash’s dress just so so cute. I feel like theres a lot of beach gatherings because of Finnick so theres definitely pictures of the two of them extra tan that becomes a favorite of like…Cash practically sitting ontop of her. The inside picture is always like of her/gloss/glimmer I think. Sometimes the girls make the cut in the group picture, but it’s usually the three of them. 

One time Marvel got so severely sunburned he couldn’t move and Finnick made him take a picture holding up a cooked lobster for comparison and that became like at least the group chat picture if not everyone’s contact picture for him en masse. It’s not a phone screen but it’s a funny thought. 

so this got waaaaay out of my hands i'm sorry I just got so excited it was a lot of fun 😅 Thank you my friend this was SO so fun!!

[erwinsmithsmissingleftarm]

Who fell first and who fell harder?

Includes: Peeta, Katniss, Gale, Haymitch, Finnick Coriolanus, Sejanus, Lucy Gray & the Career pack

Peeta Mellark:

He fell first and harder

Katniss Everdeen:

You fell first but she fell harder

Gale Hawthorne:

You fell first and harder

Haymitch Abernathy:

He fell first but you fell harder

Finnick Odair:

He fell first but you fell harder

Coriolanus Snow:

You fell first but he fell harder

Sejanus Plinth:

He fell first and harder

Lucy Gray Baird:

You fell first and harder

Cato Hadley:

You fell first but he fell harder

Clove Kentwell:

She fell first and harder

Glimmer Belcourt:

She fell first but you fell harder

Marvel Sanford:

He fell first andl harder

[amgk22]

HOW THE HUNGER GAMES CAST WOULD REACT TO….

being asked out by their friend

includes: katniss, peeta, gale, haymitch, effie, cato, clove, glimmer, marvel, thresh, annie, finnick, johanna, coriolanus, lucy gray, sejanus, festus, coral, reaper

Katniss would think it’s a joke. Definitely think it’s a joke. Once you reassure her it’s very serious, she’d be confused on why her. Eventually, you’d have to bribe her with something to give you a try, and later she’d call it the best choice she made unironically.

Peeta would be very happy, and accept immediately. Later, at your house, you’d be interrupted by Peeta with some muffins made just for you by him.

Gale would at first be upset, that you were able to ask before him. He’d definitely be getting teased by Rory. He’d tell you that he was gonna ask you as well, but of course that’s a lie.

Haymitch would be too drunk to understand what you’re asking him, and say no. However, once he’s sobered up and realized what you’ve done, he’d call you and ask you to come to his place so he could explain- and accept immediately. He’d be sober during this, a rare sight of Haymitch.

Effie would pretend to be shocked, but really, she knew you’d ask her out. She’d accept, and give you some flowers to seal the deal. She’d listened to you talking about your favourite flowers earlier, and bought them ahead of time.

Cato would think it’s silly you’d ask him out, as he thought he’d ask you out. He’d still accept, of course, but make sure that you knew that he was the ‘boss’ in the relationship by doing everything for you that day. Was it from jealousy? Embarrassment? Possessiveness? We’ll never know.

Clove would definitely have an ego boost. Like, you asked her out first? That’s both sexy and sweet, and she would never shut up about it.

Glimmer would definitely accept immediately with no thought, she’s the type to go all in with romance. You can expect some cuddles that night from her, along with some teasing.

Marvel would be confused. Aren’t the guys supposed to ask first? As soon as you told him that that’s a stereotype, he’d accept, but still be VERY protective. He’d be very disappointed that you beat him to it, but also a bit proud.

Thresh would NOT trust you. He’d think of it as a joke, more or less like Katniss would. However, once he realizes it’s not, he’d say ‘yes’ and walk away, mainly cause he has no idea what else to do.

Annie would make it her mission to shower you with love and affection the second you asked her out. She’d accept, then come to your house with flowers and little pearls by the sea as a thank you gift.

Finnick would definitely feel a bit embarrassed, but also attracted to the fact that you asked him first. He’d be a bit scared if anyone heard, because he’s supposed to be, like, single and ready to mingle- but as soon as he realizes no one’s watching, he’d say yes.

Johanna would be the type to say ‘no’ jokingly, and then tell you it’s a yes later on. She’d be a bit nervous on if she’s coming off as too harsh, but then decide on not giving a fuck.

Coriolanus would feel like the luckiest guy in the world at that moment. However, he’d definitely make sure to dictate your dates to his pleasure, so he can spend time with you and have what he wants as well.

Lucy Gray would accept, but run away right after with a smile on her face. You might think that she accepted as a joke, but in fact, she ran to go write a song about you, which you fully embraced as soon as you heard it.

Sejanus would definitely be confused, and ask if it was a bet due to his unpopularity in both the districts and the Capitol. Once you reminded him that you actually cared, he’d be very happy, now that he had someone to love and cherish as he does with Coriolanus and his Ma.

Festus would agree, but probably say some cocky shit like ‘I knew you’d ask me, I’m that hot’ but in a funny way. He wouldn’t stop until you laughed just a little bit, and make sure that plans are set in stone for a date.

Coral wouldn’t be the easiest to coax into saying yes. Sure, she’d been crushing on you, but on the inside, she really doesn’t think she’d be a good girlfriend. She’d say no, but regret it later and say yes.

Reaper would say yes, although he’d seem slightly intimidating. Seeing you be a bit scared, he’d immediately feel bad and give you something out of his pocket as a gift. Whether it’s a single nickel, or a piece of rust, it’s a gift alright.

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Fighter and Mother / Cato H. x OC

The night was cold and long. The house we call home is small and simple, but inside, there are seven of us—me and the six children fate has placed in my care. There isn’t much space, so we sleep together on a large bed made from a patchwork of old mattresses and blankets. We press close, not just for space but for warmth.

Mads, the youngest, is curled up against my chest, his tiny fingers clutching the fabric of my nightgown. Beside me sleeps Sunny, twelve years old, the only one who might still remember what it was like to have parents of his own. His breathing is steady, but I know he never sleeps deeply. His body is tense, always ready to wake and take care of the others.

Lucila and Poppy, ten-year-old girls, sleep on the other side, entwined like two delicate branches. They are inseparable, each the other's anchor. Poppy murmurs something in her sleep and nestles closer to Lucila, who instinctively pulls her into a gentle embrace.

Lerus, seven, is sprawled across the bed, his light hair tousled, legs stretched out so far that one of them dangles off the edge. And little Zira, only five, is curled up near Lucila’s feet, clutching the rag doll I once stitched together from fabric scraps.

Something wakes me. At first, just a slight movement—Mads shifting in his sleep—then a soft whimper. I open my eyes. The room is still dim, the first morning light barely seeping through the cracks in the walls.

I know what day it is.

Reaping.

A familiar weight settles in my chest. It’s the same every year. The worst part is always the morning—that brief moment when everything still feels normal, when the children are still asleep, and the house is quiet. But then comes the moment when we have to face reality.

Mads stirs again and lets out a faint whine. I run my hand gently over his back and pull him closer. “Shh, little one, I’m here,” I whisper.

Beside me, Sunny shifts slightly. “Zinny? " His voice is quiet but alert.

“Lie down for a little longer,” I whisper back.

“It’s Reaping Day.”

I know he knows. But he says it anyway. Maybe to remind himself that it’s real, that we can’t escape it.

“I know,” I say.

There’s a pause. Then, I feel him inch closer, just a little. Like he used to when he was younger, when nightmares woke him in the middle of the night.

“It’ll be alright, Sunny,” I whisper. Though I’m not sure if I’m trying to comfort him or myself.

Before long, the house stirs. Poppy shifts and stretches, Lucila smacks her lips in her sleep. Lerus rolls onto his side, pulling half the blanket with him, making Zira grumble in protest.

“Stop that,” she mutters, still half-asleep.

“I’m awake,” Poppy announces, sitting up. She rubs her eyes and yawns. Lucila follows suit.

“Good morning,” I say softly.

But no one responds with the usual morning cheer. Everyone knows what today is.

I rise first. Mads is still clinging to me, so I lift him into my arms, stroking his back. “Let’s make some tea,” I suggest.

Lucila stretches. “We still have a little chamomile,” she muses.

Poppy glances at the shelf where we keep the herbs they gathered from the Meadow. “We could mix it with mint.”

The children move into their small morning tasks. Sunny rekindles the fire in the hearth while I heat water in our old pot. Lerus helps bring the cups, though his hands are still clumsy with sleep.

In these moments, we are just a normal family. We may not be bound by blood, but we are bound by something stronger. The older ones care for the younger ones, and I care for them all.

Breakfast is simple—a bit of stale bread, traded for a mended coat, and warm tea. We eat in silence. Mads sits on my lap, nibbling on a crust.

Then comes the time to dress.

Our clothes aren’t luxurious like the ones children from wealthier families wear, but they are clean and carefully mended. Every piece of fabric was once something else, but I’ve tried to make them beautiful. Even though we are poor, each garment is embroidered with colorful threads to hide the seams and patches.

“You look beautiful,” I tell Lucila, smoothing down her sleeves. She smiles, but her eyes betray her nervousness.

Poppy adjusts her skirt. “We look like a rainbow,” she whispers.

“And that’s a good thing,” I reply.

Once everyone is ready, the hardest moment arrives.

We have to go to the square.

The sun was slowly rising over District Twelve as we stepped out of the house. The air was heavy, thick with unease that hung over the town like a suffocating fog. The walk to the square was short, but today, it felt endless. The children stayed close together, moving in silence.

By the time we arrived, the crowd was already forming. Peacekeepers stood at their posts, motionless like statues, ensuring that everyone took their designated places.

I knelt down beside Lucila, Poppy, Lerus, and Zira, gently brushing my hands over theirs. "You have to go there," I said, nodding toward the gathered spectators.

"I don’t want to," Poppy whispered.

"I know," I replied softly. "But you must. I’ll be right there, with Sunny. When it’s over, we’ll find each other. Alright?"

Lerus clung to Lucila’s hand, his eyes filled with worry. Zira only gave a small nod, her tiny fingers still gripping the fabric of my skirt.

Lucila took a deep breath and squeezed their hands. "We’ll go together."

I watched them as they disappeared into the crowd. Zira glanced back one last time before vanishing among the sea of people.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to Sunny. His jaw was clenched tight, but he gave me a small nod. Together, we walked toward the entrance of the designated area.

The Peacekeepers stopped us as soon as we reached them. We had to go through the registration process.

Without a word, Sunny extended his arm to have his blood drawn. I stood still, though I felt Mads shifting against my chest, letting out a quiet, unhappy whimper.

"You can’t take him inside," one of the Peacekeepers said.

Mads’ soft whimper turned into a distressed whine.

"If I put him down, he’ll cry loudly and cause a disturbance," I said calmly, though I was boiling inside. "I don’t want trouble. Just let him stay. I won’t put him down."

The Peacekeepers exchanged glances. One of them, an older man with a stern face, frowned slightly and shook his head but ultimately stepped aside.

"Fine. But no trouble."

I nodded.

Sunny glanced at me briefly, and then we stepped into the designated area. Around us, the other boys and girls from the district stood in their best—yet still humble—clothes. No one spoke. No one smiled.

Then Effie Trinket stepped onto the stage, and the bright, practiced smile she wore was like a slap in the face against the silence.

Effie Trinket stepped onto the stage, a false smile plastered on her lips. She spoke a few rehearsed phrases that no one was really listening to, and then she reached into the bowl.

"The female tribute for the 74th Hunger Games is…"

I felt as if the entire district held its breath.

"Zinnia Reid!"

For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if everything had stopped, and the only thing that existed was that name, spoken into the microphone. My name.

"Zinnia Reid!" Effie Trinket repeated, louder and clearer this time.

At first, nothing. Just silence as everyone in the crowd processed those two words.

And then—a scream.

"No!"

Lucila.

Then more voices.

"Zinny!" Poppy pushed through the crowd, shoving other children aside as she ran toward me. Lerus started sobbing, his tiny fists clutching at Lucila’s skirt. Zira just stood there, shaking, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"This is a mistake!" someone from the adults shouted.

"She can't go! Who will take care of the children?" another voice called out.

The Peacekeepers started moving, slow but determined. I saw one of them step toward the children, ready to hold them back.

And then—Sunny.

Sunny, who never cried. Who was always the reasonable one, the calm one, older than he should have been. Sunny, who wrapped his arms around me, buried his face in my skirt, and sobbed.

"Don’t… don’t go… please…"

His shoulders shook, his fingers digging into the fabric.

I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding, but I knew I couldn't hesitate. If I did—if I let myself falter for even a second—there would be no coming back from it.

I knelt in front of him, placing my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. His eyes were filled with tears, but beneath them, there was something else. Panic. Raw, pure panic.

"Sunny," I said as steadily as I could.

He shook his head. "No… don’t go, Zinny, please…"

"I have to."

"But—"

"Look at me," I interrupted, my voice firm. "Look at me, Sunny."

He swallowed hard, his gaze locking onto mine.

"You have to be strong," I said softly. "You have to take care of them. Do you understand?"

"I don’t want to…" His voice broke. "I don’t want you not to come back."

I took another deep breath, as if that could somehow hold back the pain ripping through my chest. I didn’t tell him I would come back. I couldn’t lie to him. Instead, I pressed Mads into his arms, and the little boy immediately squirmed and whimpered.

"Promise me," I said. "Promise me you’ll protect them."

Sunny was trembling. I could see the war inside him—the part of him that was still a child, wanting to say no, and the part of him that had never had a choice but to grow up too soon.

In the end, he pressed his lips together and nodded.

"Okay," he whispered. "I promise."

I ran my fingers through his hair one last time before rising to my feet.

Poppy grabbed my hand. "Mom…" Her voice was shaking.

I smiled at her, even though it hurt. "It’s going to be okay."

It wasn’t true. But maybe she needed to believe it.

I cupped her cheek gently, then turned away. One last glance at their faces—Zira, still silent, tears dripping down her chin; Lerus, clinging to Lucila; Sunny, standing there with Mads in his arms, looking as if he was breaking into a million pieces.

And then I walked toward the stage.

With every step, it felt like the world around me slowed. Every breath was heavier, every stare from the crowd burned into my skin.

When I reached the platform, I turned.

Lucila had fallen to her knees. Lerus was crying loudly. Zira had finally collapsed into Poppy’s arms. And Sunny… he just stood there, holding Mads tightly, looking like his entire world was being ripped apart.

I tried to stand tall. To be strong.

Because if I broke—who would be strong for them?

PART 2?

[orion-lake]

[nourtarts]

felt the spirit of the hunger games take hold of me and drew a bunch of characters from the first book the way I imagined them! might post finnick and the catching fire gang later

[atefingersdagger]

I'm sure this has been discussed before, but I wonder if the tributes who trained and volunteered for the Hunger Games are called "Careers" for a more symbolic reason. Yes, it makes sense from the standpoint that a career in of itself means a long-term occupation (training) that pays off with success (the Games).

But when I think of the word "career," it reminds me of when I was a kid and constantly asked what I wanted to do, expected to have it all figured out so early in life. These tributes are kids who are expected to know and be content with a life path. One that will ultimately destroy them.

Also, they are trained and brainwashed in the way people are trained up to believe they need to be a part of a certain workforce, that they must be okay with slaving away like a worker is told everyday under today's capitalism. That it is what it is, and they must prepare to sacrifice themselves for a job (i.e., being a tribute)

Or maybe it's just not that deep.

[burnerofstars]

Somewhere in Panem with the victors the 74th year

Katniss climbing the tree

Gloss: Really Haymitch, this is the girl that got an 11 as a training score??

Cato falls

Haymitch: At least she got up the fuckin tree.

Cashmere: It’s fine someone else will get her.

None if the carriers climbing

Enobaria: You gotta be kidding me.

Johanna and Finnick join on the couch

Johanna: Even Finnick’s kids could climb a fucking tree,

Finnick hiding laughter

Brutus: At least our kids made it past the blood bath, can’t say the same for either of yours.

Johanna: I bet you wish they’d kept one of mine around right about now.

Gloss: its fine, she’s a sitting duck, they can just shoot her, its not like she can dodge it, or move.

Glimmer misses shot

Haymitch: Did that girl ever hit any target with her arrow? Because mine did.

Cashmere: We told her to grab a short distance weapon, she has no aim.

Enobaria: that’s embarrassing, for the careers. Cato will get her, he doesn’t miss.

Cato fires arrow and misses

Brutus: Oh my god, I can’t watch this, im getting second hand embarrassment.

Haymitch: Can none of your kids climb a tree???

Cashmere: I guess not.

Marvel throws spear and misses

Finnick: None of them can aim either, this is just sad

Peeta: lets wait her out, she has to come down at some point.

Haymitch laughing hysterically,

Some time later

Katniss starting to cut down tracker jackers

Gloss: Did all our kids seriously fall asleep,

Cashmere rubbing her temples: Yea, they did

Johanna: Who sleeps that heavily in the arena??? Shes making so much noise how are they not awake?

Enobaria: She’s gonna die from those jackers before that nest falls,

Nest falls and careers scatter

Brutus: I need another drink,

Glimmer dies

Johanna: HAH HOW DOES IT FEEL HAVING YOUR CAREER BE TAKEN OUT BY THE DISTRICT 12 GIRL!

Cashmere: no comment,

Some more time later

Katniss plots with rue to blow up food

Gloss: they aren’t gonna fall for that.

They fall for it

Haymitch: you were saying?

Enobaria: This year sucks

Katniss kills Marvel

Johanna (drunk) : HAH BOTH OF YOUR TRIBUTES TAKEN OUT BY THE 12 GIRL!

Gloss: Ok im leaving now.

Cashmere: yea i think im also gonna head out…

Johanna (drunk): LOOSERS HAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

Finnick: ok Jo, come on, that’s enough for you,

Takes her alcohol

Johanna: no fairrrr, you never take Haymitch’s alcohol

Haymitch: he knows not to mess with me

Finnick: Every time you get drunk, you end up in a fist fight, or breaking something, or both, Haymitch just passes out.

Johanna: OH WHAT YOU WANNA FIGHT LETS FIGHT!

Finnick picks Jo up and carries her to the elevator as she continues screaming and fighting

Haymitch to Brutus and Enobaria: Haha, your tributes arent as cool as mineeee,

Brutus: at least our girl doesn’t look like she wants to vomit getting close to her supposed lover.

Finnick returns

Enobaria: that was fast?

Finnick: I locked her in her bathroom,

Haymitch: Didn’t she just break down the door last time?

Finnick: I handcuffed one of her hands to the pipes and the other to the door.

Elevator doors open revealing Johanna, drenched in water, still handcuffed to a pipe, and the door.

Finnick: I give up. *sits down*

Brutus: what the fuck is wrong with you.

Both Finnick and Jo simultaneously: A lot.

[7s3ven]

hello! ur writing is so fun and rahhhh i heart it. idk if ur taking cato reqs but i love him bro its an issue. anyhow, childhood friend!tribute!reader and him coming to terms with the fact that both of them cant win. could be platonic or romantic whatever u like<3

I’m literally in love with Cato.

( master list )

DANCING WITH UR GHOST. cato hadley

IN WHICH… Cato Hadley and Y/N L/N accept there can only be one winner. The Capitol watches as one falls and the other leaves the arena with a furious heart, never quite moving on.

Warnings : not proof-read, a little bit of angst, some gore (it’s the hunger games)

—

THG TAG LIST : No one rn 💀

—

It was a hot and sunny day when the Capitol chose to announce the tributes. Small beads of sweat rolled down Y/N’s forehead as she clasped her hands behind her back. The sun was relentlessly beating down on the large group of teenagers crowded in front of the stage, organised by age and all eagerly waiting.

Y/N wasn’t like the rest of her District. She had seen how the effects of the Hunger Games weighed down on the tributes. Haymitch had turned to drinking after the slaughter of his family. Y/N couldn’t imagine returning home to see the people you held dear gruesomely bloodied on the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cato. He stood out from the boys, being one of the tallest and towering over them. He had his jaw clenched and he was impatiently tapping his foot, waiting until he could leap onto the stage.

His head turned and they locked eyes. Y/N was the first to break into an amused smile and he returned it, his pale lips curving upwards.

Y/N paid no attention to the video playing on the screen in front of her. They showed it every year and she had practically memorised the voice lines by now. Her mind flashed back to yesterday, the day where Cato had suggested the unthinkable.

“What if we run away?” He questioned, making Y/N pause. She grasped the handle of her ax tightly as she spun around to face her childhood friend.

“What?” She needed to make sure that she had heard him right. It’s not like Y/N hadn’t thought of it before but for Cato Hadley of all people to ask was outrageous. He was Two’s greatest candidate. They were all counting on him.

“You heard me. What if we ran away? Away from all this and away from the games? I wouldn’t have to worry about being a peacekeeper. We could do it, you and me.”

Y/N has full faith in her axe skills and Cato’s strength but the idea was almost too crazy to pull off. She shook her head, “They’d find us.” She whispered. Y/N was glad nobody else was in the gym because this could be considered treason.

Y/N subtly shook her head. If only leaving District Two was that easy. They would surely notice if their strongest candidate and his axe-throwing friend went missing.

Her attention was caught by the lady, Kikoro, walking towards the microphone in a hideously bright yellow skirt. Beside her, Y/N heard Clove laugh.

Clove was a good friend of Cato’s and by default she was a friend of Y/N’s too. She was shorter than both of them but that didn’t stop her from snapping at people left and right. Her skills with throwing knives were amazing and Y/N often felt a little jealous. Surely the knives were lighter compared to lugging around a wooden stick with a blade attached to it.

“Now, I must warn you, there’s a new little rule. No volunteering this year.” Kikoro uttered into the microphone, her lips covered in yellow lipstick curling into an unsettling smile. She ignored the disappointed jeers from the teenagers as she reached into the first bowl. “Ladies first. It’s only polite.”

Everybody watched with bated breath as Kikoro unfolded the piece of paper painfully slow. Clove was practically shaking with excitement.

Kiroko cleared her throat before she leaned forward, glancing at the crumbled paper. “Y/N L/N.” She said.

Y/N clicked her tongue, thinking it was all a sick joke. She wasn’t scared shitless like the tributes in the paper districts were but she was disappointed. Why her and not somebody who actually wanted to compete?

Y/N begrudgingly stepped onto stage after being dragged by a peacekeeper. “Let go of me.” She hissed, yanking her arm out of the man’s grip.

“What’s your name, dear?” Kiroko asked, gesturing Y/N to step forward to the microphone. The H/C-nette stared at the Capitol citizen in confusion.

“You just said my name… Y/N L/N.”

Kikoro paused before she burst into a fit of light laughter. “Ah, sorry dear. I’m so used to volunteers. Next up, the boys.”

Y/N hoped her District partner would be someone useful who she could discard later. Someone strong but not too strong as to overpower her.

As Y/N rocked back and forth on her heels, she glanced over at Kikoro who was now unfolding the second paper. She read text written in black ink before grasping the microphone.

Hearing her own name getting called didn’t frighten Y/N but as Kikoro declared the male tribute, her heart dropped so fast that she may as well collapsed. It was the one person she wished hadn’t been chosen.

“Cato Hadley.”

The train ride was silent. Enobaria had tried talking to the pair but they never replied. Eventually, she gave up and went to a different compartment.

“We should’ve run away.” Y/N quietly muttered, suddenly regretting not putting the absurd plan into action. Across from her, Cato chuckled.

“Yeah…” He paused, refusing to believe that this was really happening. That he’d have to kill his best friend if he wanted to survive. He was brought back to the harsh reality as the train bumped along the tracks.

“You should’ve played dead… or something.” Y/N stirred the spoon around in her cup of coffee, having no intentions of actually tasting the bitter drink. She licked her dry lips. “What happens if we’re the last ones left?”

Cato didn’t have the courage to answer. He pushed his food around with his fork for a few moments before finally lifting his head. “May the best win.” He uttered.

Y/N glanced out the window, staring at the tall buildings of the Capitol in the distance. She took a deep breath as the train quickly approached the large city and their impending doom.

The days in the Capitol were limited. And they passed by fast. One minute Y/N was standing in front of the dummy targets, skilfully throwing axes as their heads then the next she was in front of a crowd in a glittery gold gown.

“You’re a fan favourite, Y/N. How does that make you feel?” Caesar, with his crazy blue hair and matching suit, said as he widely grinned.

“I guess I’m just that charming.” Y/N smiled as she leaned back in her seat, gracefully crossing one leg over the other.

“Our time is almost up but may I ask the question that everyone has been wondering? What on earth is going on between you and Cato?”

The Capitol had caught wind of the small stolen glances and borderline flirtatious kisses on the knuckles. Y/N shifted in her seat as she recalled the event before this very interview.

“You look…” Cato entered the room, practically starstruck as Y/N stood on a small platform. “Wow.” She frowned as she adjusted the tight bodice of her dress.

“Really? Because right now, I can’t really breathe.” Y/N let out a small laugh but she felt her corset suffocate her lungs.

“Does this look like a face that would lie to you?” Cato grasped Y/N’s hands and helped her off the platform. “I mean it. You look stunning… almost makes me wish we were getting ready for a ball instead of this.” Cato’s face was so close. Y/N couldn’t help but let her eyes dart to his lips.

“You look handsome too.” She playfully grinned as she straightened Cato’s tie. “Blue suits you.”

“We’re just friends.” Y/N repeated that overused phrase while the Capitol citizens groaned in frustration. “I don’t know what you want me to admit… Cato is handsome but I can’t imagine dating someone I’ve known since childhood… his face is getting a little annoying.”

Y/N’s cheeky remark earned her a few laughs.

“If given the chance, I probably would’ve liked to kiss him once, you know?” Y/N’s confidence grew and she forgot all about how Cato could hear her words through the small screen in the waiting room. She folded her arms over her chest just as the timer buzzed.

“Y/N L/N, everybody!” Caesar declared.

She stepped off the stage and back into the shadows, away from the piercing lights. Glimmer and Marvel had already returned to their rooms and Y/N was about to do the same before Cato came into view.

She saw him wave enthusiastically at the crowd but his eyes were on her. She shrank back, suddenly aware of what she had said during the interview.

Y/N scurried off before Caesar could even ask Cato one question. She stormed into the room assigned to District Two. Enobaria was sitting on the couch, clicking the TV remote buttons.

“Need help getting out of that dress?” The sharp-toothed woman asked. Y/N silently nodded.

“Thank you.” Y/N said, finally able to breathe properly again. She would never take oxygen for granted again.

Y/N was only dressed in a black singlet and shorts when Cato burst through her personal room door. “What was that?” He demanded, slamming the door behind him. “If given the chance? I’m giving you the damn chance, Y/N!”

Y/N let out a squeak of surprise when he grabbed her face and pulled her forward, swiftly kissing her like he had been waiting to do so for years. With how his hands trailed down to tightly grip her waist, Y/N wouldn’t be surprised if Cato had been dreaming of this moment.

Cato pulled away, resting his forehead on Y/N’s. “How’s that for a given chance?”

The sun in the arena felt different. Its heat was blistering and Y/N felt her body burning up underneath her heavy jacket. She wanted to discard the warm piece of clothing but it would come in handy at night.

The Careers had already made their allies clear. Y/N glanced at Cato who was already staring at her as usual.

To Y/N’s left was Glimmer, who was impatiently tapping her foot as the countdown began. Y/N stared at the decreasing numbers until it reached five and she had no choice but to get ready to run.

This was no mere dream, it was a reality that Y/N wish she didn’t exist in, for Cato’s sake.

To no one’s surprise, Cato was the first to react as the countdown finished. He leaped off his podium, immediately making a run for a silver sword. Some tributes turned tail and ran but those who joined the mess in the middle were gruesomely stabbed by Cato.

Y/N grasped a pack of throwing knives, tossing the sharp objects at anything that moved. She managed to cut Katniss’ cheek and the ravenette was not pleased about that. The District Twelve girl shot an arrow Y/N’s way but she ducked and avoided it.

“Y/N, here!” Cato tossed a fancy looking axe her way. She easily caught it, swinging it at a foolish boy who thought he could beat her.

The bloodbath didn’t last long thanks to Cato. He either killed or drove off any of the remaining tributes. “I’m feeling pretty good about this.” He grinned down at Y/N as they waltzed around the Cornucopia. He twirled his heavy sword in his hand.

“You’re in a good mood.” Y/N muttered. The hunger for bloodshed had clouded Cato’s mind, causing him to forget that Y/N would have to die in order for him to emerge victorious. She said nothing about it, though, not wanting to spoil his cheerful mood.

“I’ll be in a better mood after this.” Cato chuckled to himself as he pecked Y/N’s lips. He held her close, burying his face in her neck.

Y/N stood still, awaiting the moment where they would be forced to turn on each other. Out of the pair, Y/N had always been the rational realist.

Glimmer was dead, filled with toxin after Katniss sabotaged the Careers’ camp.

Marvel was next. Katniss skewered him like a kebab with her arrow. He died on the forest floor, joining Glimmer in Katniss’ kill count.

And then there were two. Y/N had narrowly avoided being bashed in the head with a stone by Thresh. The side of her head was still bleeding, the crimson liquid staining the green grass below.

Y/N groaned as she collapsed beside Cato, leaning against the large tree trunk. “Who’s left?” She rasped. She had heard a canon go off but she had no idea who it was.

“The boy from Eleven, the pair from two, and us.” Cato replied, his shoulder brushing against Y/N’s. He pulled out a small tin bottle, handing it over to Y/N. She gratefully took a large gulp of cold water. “Don’t worry, we’ll get home.” He whispered, “You and me forever.” After Y/N’s near death experience, Cato realized that the Capitol had played him as a fool. But he was happy about the announcement that said two victors could win if they originated from the same District.

Y/N leaned her head on Cato’s shoulder and closed her eyes, deeply sighing. She didn’t know when she dozed off or how long she was asleep but she cracked open one eye to see Cato hurriedly shaking her.

Night time, the Careers’ prime time to hunt, had already past. When Y/N’s eyes finally adjusted to the light, she furrowed her eyebrows. She was in a cave yet she remembered falling asleep on the forest floor. And Cato was covered in bites and gruesome grazes and blood. So much blood.

“Cato…” Y/N breathed, quickly leaning forward, “What happened to you?”

“I killed Katniss and Peeta… and the mutts killed Thresh. It’s you and me left, Y/N.” His sounded sounded so weak and he sluggishly cupped her face, panting heavily. For once, he was covered in his own blood rather than the blood of his victims.

“You drugged me…” Y/N’s heart fell to her stomach as she realized what had happened. Cato had slipped sleeping pills into the water and while she was knocked out, he put her in a cave and went to hunt down the three other tributes. She furrowed her brows. “How could you? Cato… you could’ve died.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah… I know. That was kind of the point. While you were asleep, they revoked the two victors rule. There can only be one again.”

That was enough for tears to well up in Y/N’s eyes. “Don’t leave me… please.” She cried as she held Cato, her childhood friend and her first true crush. His blood stained her muddy clothes but she didn’t care. “Please…” She trailed off as Cato wheezed.

“The mutts did a good job on me.” He muttered, finding it harder to stay awake. Y/N’s eyes widened.

“No. Cato. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me here!” She immediately noticed how his pulse slowed down. “Stay awake, Cato! I can fix this! Please.”

Y/N had already come to terms that there could only be one victor but she had yet to accept that fact that she had to lose Cato to walk out.

“You can’t give up now… we came this far. We can sort something out.” Y/N uttered as she shook Cato in a fruitless attempt to convince him.

“I love you, Y/N.” He grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I always have. Ever since we became friends. Ever since you were the first to find the courage to talk to me. I don’t know what I would have done with you.”

Y/N laughed as a sob bubbled up in her throat. “I love you too. If only your name wasn’t called. I could’ve won the games and come back to you.” She shakily sighed as she leaned down to kiss Cato’s cold lips. She placed her hand on his neck and when she felt no pulse, she pulled back in a panic.

“Cato?” She shook him once. Then again. “Cato?!” She repeated, this time louder. “No… no… no! Don’t leave me here! Cato!”

She screamed so loud that the sound echoed around the forest, scaring the birds and causing them to flee.

“Cato!”

Y/N walked out of the arena a free woman. Not quite since Snow would still have full control over her but she liked to think she was free to a certain extent.

The Capitol workers had tried to discard of the necklace she held so tightly in her left hand but she refused to let them take it away. It was the only remaining memory she had of Cato.

Anger swirled around in her heart like a monster, threatening to burst free and reign terror over anyone that came in contact with her.

Only now was Y/N realising why the victors never looked genuinely happy despite having everything they wanted. It was because Snow tore their deepest desires away, always holding it near but never within their reach.

Enobaria had wanted to be a mother.

Gloss wanted a peaceful life with his sister.

Cashmere wanted nothing more than to take care of the children in District One.

Brutus craved freedom from Snow’s cruel clutches.

And poor Y/N dreamt of becoming a bride but as she watched the light drift from Cato’s eyes, her wish was swept away with it.

Now, Snow had nothing to take away from her because the person she loved the most was already gone.

[clovemaysilee]

i actually loved the original movie casting of the careers because those were really good actors (Isabelle fuhrman's clove, as we know, basically raised me and shaped my thg experience) but I will say there should've been more people of color in the career pack for many reasons including how the whole model minority experience of being raised in a culture that has high expectations on you to perform well and make the family proud/their sacrifices worth it pairs amazingly with the entire concept of career district culture.

[ginny-weasley-is-the-best]

Ah yes ! The Hunger Games, that book where Swamp-potato Farm-with-wild-pigs goes to fight kids from other parts of her country Bread with her love interest baker Type-of-bread Honeybird to protect her sister Flower !

And I’m not forgetting when she makes a stop to Bread’s capital, Capital, and gets mentored by Big-From-The-Enclosure River and Well-spoken Jewelry, and gets dressed by Cinnamon. Oh and in the arena! When Swamp-potato teams up with Street, gets hunted down by Superhero-Company, Sparkle, Wise and Tree !Well, Street gets killed by Company, and Sprout avenges her by saying Swamp-potato buy it was good ! And in the end, when she saves both her’s and Type-of-bread’s life by threatening to kill themselves, and gets home to her friends Wind Tree and Pearl Look-under !

Ah i loved that book.

[allisluv]

hate hate HATE how much careers are forgotten.

finnick, annie, cato and clove get ALL the spotlight but i swear everyone forgets about:

enobaria

brutus

glimmer

marvel

cashmere (partly)

gloss

glimmer and marvel are only really mentioned in the clato fandom. i have seen cashmere in a fair few fics but not gloss. and enobaria does NOT deserve to be forgotten. everyone forgets that she held out and survived for so long in the 75th games and survived the rebellion, and her reward was to be a fucking footnote?

🟡 anon

and i think we forget how much trauma the careers went through too. why does no one talk about the fact they were basically brainwashed, and then won the games only to find out they were lied to their entire lives! my girlfriend and i are always talking about this so if you have any more thoughts i'd love to hear it!

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Fighter and Mother Cato H. x OC part ll.

part I.

The sun was high in the sky, heating the stony ground of the square and making the air heavy and suffocating. People stood close together, waiting silently, their eyes fixed on the stage where the fate of one boy was about to be decided. Effie Trinket reached into the glass bowl and mixed the slips of paper inside. The tension was thick in the air.

She pulled out a slip, unfolded it, and loudly read the name.

"Turen Dreft."

Her voice echoed over the square, sharp and loud. For a moment, everything was silent. A cold, heavy silence.

I immediately remembered his face. Turen Dreft. A twelve-year-old boy, small with light blonde hair that always fell into his eyes. His eyes were now wide with fear. He was always quiet, almost invisible. He wasn’t the type to fight or yell; he was the one who helped, who stepped back. I had seen him a few times, carrying water with his mother, stacking wood, petting a stray dog. He was the kind of kid you wanted to protect.

And now, he was going to the arena.

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

Then, Turen slowly stepped forward. He climbed onto the stage, his small shoulders shaking. He clenched his hands into fists and tried to look brave, but his lip quivered.

I wanted to say something, do something, but I knew I couldn’t.

Effie Trinket then reached toward me and announced us as tributes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, here are the tributes from District 12: Zinnia Reid and Turen Dreft!"

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, someone in the crowd moved.

A hand rose. Three fingers pressed to the lips, then raised toward me.

Another. Then more.

Soon, the whole square was doing it. A sea of hands in a silent gesture. A sign of respect. A final goodbye.

My breath caught in my throat.

Then, I heard Zira sob. I looked into the crowd and saw my children.

Lucila had her face twisted in pain, but she stood tall. Poppy was shaking, holding onto Lerus’s hand like she could protect him. Lerus had his face buried in Lucila’s skirt, his eyes tightly shut. Zira... Zira had tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t screaming; tears just silently ran down her cheeks. And Sunny – Sunny stood there, jaw clenched, eyes full of fierce determination.

I forced myself to stand tall, even though I was falling apart inside.

The Peacekeepers then led us into the town hall.

For a moment, there was silence, but then the doors opened, and the room was filled with the sound of tears, hands, and desperate pleas.

The children. My children.

Lucila threw herself around my waist, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Poppy hugged me tightly, her nails digging into my skin. Lerus tried to climb into my arms, while Zira cried out loud, without holding back.

"Don’t go!" Poppy cried between sobs. "Zinny, please, don’t go!"

"Don’t leave us," Lucila whispered, her voice trembling.

Mads was in Sunny’s arms, kicking his legs and reaching out for me.

I knelt down and held Lucila and Poppy’s hands. "Listen to me," I said firmly. "You have to take care of each other, okay? Sunny will take care of food, but you have to help him. Go to the Seamans, trade clothes for bread or meat. Keep the house in order, don’t forget about Mads. And most importantly... stay together."

"But what if you don’t come back?" Zira whispered, her voice breaking into tears.

My throat tightened.

How could I promise them something I couldn’t guarantee?

Sunny stood in front of me, his brown eyes locked on mine. "You have to promise," he said hoarsely. "You have to promise you’ll try. You won’t give up."

My voice caught.

I couldn’t lie to them. I couldn’t promise that I’d come back.

But I could promise them I’d try.

I grabbed Sunny’s hand and squeezed it. "I promise."

Lucila began crying loudly. Poppy hid her face in my dress. Lerus pressed so tightly against me I could hardly breathe.

Then the doors opened again.

"Time’s up," the Peacekeeper said.

The children clung to me as tightly as they could. I had to break free from their grasp. Mads started crying when Sunny had to pull him away. Lerus sobbed. Poppy screamed my name.

The doors closed.

And I was left alone.

No one greeted me anymore.

I sat alone in the quiet room of the town hall, my hands folded in my lap, fingers tightly interlaced until my knuckles turned white. The walls around me were bare and cold. The door was closed. It felt like the world outside had stopped existing, as if this small, enclosed space was all that remained, where I waited for what would come next.

There wasn’t much I could do. Crying? It wouldn’t help. Begging? There was no one to beg. So, I just waited.

And then the door opened.

“It’s time,” the Peacekeeper said.

I stood and left the room. Each step was heavier than the last. My body felt incredibly light and yet so heavy, like my legs were made of lead. I didn’t look back.

When we arrived at the station, a train was waiting – huge, shiny, and silver, gleaming in the sunlight like a knife. Tall, long, beautiful, and terrifying all at once. I had never seen such a train up close.

And certainly not from the inside.

Turen was already there. He stood between two Peacekeepers, small and fragile. His shoulders were hunched, and his hands were shaking. He looked so… lost. When our eyes met, I saw something in his gaze that pierced my heart – fear, panic, desperation.

I wanted to go to him, to tell him that we would make it through, but before I could do anything, the Peacekeepers pushed us onto the train.

As soon as the doors closed behind us, we were in a different world.

The first thing I noticed was the air. It smelled different – fresh, clean, with a hint of sweetness. In District 12, the air never smelled like that. It was always full of ash, coal, and dust. But here...

The floor gleamed so perfectly I could see my reflection in it. Above us, crystal and metal chandeliers hung, sparkling like broken pieces of stars. The walls were lined with dark, polished wood and decorated with intricate patterns. Everywhere around us were soft couches, fluffy pillows, long tables with tall crystal glasses.

I had never seen anything like this.

I never even imagined such a place could exist.

A soft sob came from next to me.

Turen.

I looked at him and only then noticed that tears were running down his face. He had been crying quietly, so quietly that I hadn’t even realized.

Then he pressed against me and grabbed my hand.

It was small, warm, and his fingers tightened around mine in a desperate grip. I squeezed his hand back.

“It’ll be okay,” I said softly.

I didn’t know if that was true, but at that moment, it was the only thing I could say.

The door opened, and Effie Trinket entered.

Her dress was in soft shades of pink and lavender, perfectly matching her makeup. Her hair was done in a complex updo, and her lips were painted into a perfect, careful smile. She looked exactly how I remembered her from the screens – polished, flawless.

“Well, come on in!” she sang cheerfully, as if she weren’t sending us to our deaths. “You need to rest a bit, my dears!”

My teeth clenched, but I didn’t say anything.

Effie led us to a sitting room, where she placed us on a couch. It was soft, too soft. I sank into it, as if it wanted to swallow me.

Turen still held my hand.

“Make yourselves comfortable!” Effie continued, smoothing her skirt. “I’ll go find Haymitch.”

She muttered something under her breath about alcohol and irresponsibility before disappearing behind a door.

We were alone.

Turen squeezed my hand tighter and buried his face in the sleeve of my coat. His shoulders were shaking.

I raised my free hand and gently placed it on his back. Slowly, carefully, as if I was afraid he might break.

It was the first time I let myself relax my mask, even just a little.

And then a memory surfaced in my mind.

Of Haymitch Abernathy.

I remember him when I was younger. He wandered around like a ghost. He never spoke to anyone. He never really looked at anyone. He was always either drunk or on his way to getting drunk.

Once, I saw him sitting outside the Hob, leaning against the wall, a glass in his hand. He was dirty, wrinkled, his eyes distant and empty.

I was walking with Lucila and Poppy. I remember how, for a split second, he looked at me.

There was something in his gaze… something unreachable. It was like he saw me, even if just for a moment. And then he sank back into his numb emptiness.

And now he was supposed to be our mentor.

I looked at Turen, who was looking up at me with eyes full of fear.

I had to protect him.

And if that meant relying on Haymitch Abernathy… so be it.

Turen had calmed down a bit. His breath was still shallow and uneven, but he wasn't shaking as much. He wiped his nose with his sleeve, and his fingers, which had been gripping me tightly, loosened a little. He still held on to me, though, as if he feared that if he let go, I would disappear.

We sat in silence, listening to the monotonous hum of the train and watching the landscape outside turn into blurred smudges. Then, Turen finally spoke.

"Do you have family?" he asked softly.

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond.

"I have... kids," I said after a while. "Lucila, Poppy, Lerus, Zira, Sunny, and Mads. But they aren't my own."

Turen frowned. "So who is their mom?"

"No one," I replied after a pause. "Or rather... me."

I looked at his face. He was thinking it over, maybe piecing together parts of my story in his head, maybe imagining it in his own way.

"And your real family?" he asked quietly.

I ran my hand through his hair and lowered my gaze to the polished table.

"I never knew my parents," I began. "But when I was about five, a woman took me in. Icaria Gold Baird. I called her Grandma."

"Grandma?" Turen repeated.

I nodded. "She was an old seamstress. She taught me how to sew. How to hold the needle, guide the thread, connect fabrics to make something new. She said that if I could sew, I’d never go hungry."

I remembered her wrinkled hands, the way they shook when she threaded the needle. How she always sang simple tunes as she worked—tunes that stuck with me in my memory.

"She had this old box," I continued. "Full of colorful ribbons, fabric scraps, threads in every color you could imagine. She always said that with color and song on your lips, everything goes better."

I smiled, but there was bitterness in it.

"When I was thirteen, she died. And I was alone."

Turen lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It’s alright, little one," I said softly, pulling him into a light embrace.

We sat quietly. I felt him relax, his body fitting against mine, seeking refuge.

"And then?" he asked after a while.

"Then Sunny came," I answered.

I remembered the day I found him. I was thirteen, still unsure how to care for myself, and yet I took him in. He was so small, thin, starving. His eyes pleaded with me without him saying a word. And I couldn’t walk away.

"Then came Lucila and Poppy. Lerus. Zira. And finally Mads. They all found their way to me. Or maybe I found my way to them."

Turen was silent for a long time.

"So... you saved them all?" he whispered.

I shrugged. "We saved each other."

Turen looked at me as though he were seeing me for the first time. Then he quietly pressed closer to me.

Just then, the door to the compartment swung open.

Haymitch Abernathy stumbled in, looking like he had just crawled out of a ditch. Which, frankly, might not have been too far from the truth.

He smelled like alcohol and held a glass of amber liquid. He glanced at me, then looked at Turen, who immediately pressed closer to me, and finally collapsed into the chair across from us.

"Well, well, who do we have here this year?" he grumbled, eyeing me.

"You look... strong. That’s a plus."

I sized him up for a moment. Yes, I was thin. Every bone in my body was visible beneath my skin. But strong? Maybe he was right. My hands had sewn dozens of fabrics, pulling needles as my fingers quickly joined pieces together. My legs had carried me through the woods, where I learned to gather what would keep us alive. My arms weren’t strong in appearance, but they held the bow steady enough to bury an arrow into a rabbit's body.

I was used to hunger. To pain. To cold. And maybe that was what made me strong.

Haymitch then looked at Turen.

"And you..." His gaze slid to the boy who was still holding my hand. "You look like you’re already crying for your mom. That’s a minus."

Turen immediately shrank back, his body tensing.

I felt a surge of anger rise inside me.

"Leave him alone," I said firmly.

Haymitch stared at me with his clouded eyes. "Look, sweetheart, if you want to survive, you’ll have to get used to worse things than a few harsh truths."

"Maybe," I snapped, "but not now and not from you."

He stared at me for a moment longer. Then he chuckled.

"Well, well," he muttered, raising his glass in a mock toast. "This is going to be interesting."

“You have no idea how this world works, girl.”

I felt my pulse quicken. “And you have no idea what it’s like to be this young and going into a slaughter.”

Haymitch’s gaze darkened. He set his glass down and leaned in closer. “Really?” he said quietly, but there was something sharper in his voice than any knife.

“Yes!” I snapped at him. “Maybe you’ve gotten used to sending someone to die every year, but I haven’t! I can’t get used to it, because I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep kids alive! And now you want me to send one of them to the arena? To go there alone? And instead of helping us, you just sit there and drink!”

Turen froze beside me. His small fingers gripped my hand tightly, but I was too angry to calm down.

Haymitch slowly smirked. “And what exactly do you want from me, sweetheart? You want us all to sit in a circle and hold hands? Tell each other how we feel?”

“No, I want you to act like our damn mentor!” I yelled.

“And I want them to stop sending me two kids every year who are just going to die!” he yelled back.

The compartment went silent.

Turen sniffled and closed his eyes tightly. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Haymitch leaned back in his chair, picked up his glass, and took a deep drink.

“You think it matters?” he said bitterly. “That if I act differently, it’ll save you? That if I give you a few tips, you’ll... what? Beat everyone else and go home to your kids? Do you really believe that?”

I wanted to say something, but the words stuck in my throat.

“The best thing I can do for you,” he continued, his voice tired, “is to prepare you to go in there and die as quickly as possible. Painlessly. Because that’s the best you can hope for.”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“You’re wrong,” I said quietly, but firmly.

Haymitch looked at me with weary eyes.

“I’ll come back,” I whispered. “No matter what, no matter what I have to do, I’ll come back. Because those kids won’t survive without me. And I won’t leave them alone.”

For a moment, it seemed like I had surprised him. Maybe something like pity flashed in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

At that moment, Effie burst into the compartment.

“Come on! We can’t be arguing, Haymitch!” She threw up her hands. “They need your guidance, not your insults!”

“Arguing is part of the training,” Haymitch grumbled, taking another drink.

Effie sighed and straightened her skirt. “Let’s go watch the other reaping videos. We need to know who we’re up against.”

I could feel Turen still trembling beside me, but when I took his hand, he squeezed it tightly.

“Come on, little one,” I said softly. “Let’s see who we’ll be fighting.”

And with that, we stood and followed Effie to the main lounge of the train.

We entered the main lounge of the train. It was a huge space with polished mahogany tables, soft carpets, and couches that looked so comfortable you could get lost in them. When I thought about our little room back home – one big bed, old blankets, wooden chairs I had fixed myself – I felt like I didn’t belong here.

Turen still gripped my hand. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his eyes were red and hazy. Fear still lingered in them. And who could blame him?

We watched all reapings including ours and I could tell that my hopes to return home was crushed. Too many people went there with and just only one will win.

When the screen darkened and the echoes of my own image faded away, my stomach twisted into a tight, hard knot. Seeing myself up there, seeing Sunny with Mads’ little fist clenched in his hand, seeing Lucila, Poppy, Lerus, and Zira holding onto my skirt—it was almost unbearable. I thought I might cry. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

I can’t cry. Not now.

Turen didn’t move. He just kept holding my hand, staring off into space.

“Well,” Haymitch said, stretching and sipping from his glass. “Now we know who you’re up against. I’ll tell you right now, surviving next to the volunteers from Districts One and Two will be… to put it mildly, a problem.”

District One – the boy and girl volunteered. They both looked like they couldn’t wait to get into the arena. The girl was beautiful, strong, and confident. Calm, as if she had known this was her fate all along. The boy – Marvel, I think his name was – had a strange, almost amused gleam in his eyes when he stood on the stage.

Then District Two.

The girl, Clove, looked wild. The way she smiled when she stepped up, that hungry look in her eyes… it was almost worse than anything else. But Cato – he was worse. The way he stood, tall and self-assured, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly in almost eager anticipation.

My fingers itched. If anyone really wanted to be in the arena, it was him.

Idiot. The exact type I’d keep as far away from kids as possible in our district. Maybe I’d call him… The Butcher. Yeah, that would suit him.

I pressed my lips tightly together. I’ll have to keep an eye on him.

And then Rue.

That little girl from District 11. When she stepped up on stage, it was like the world swallowed her up—it was too big for her. She looked so fragile, like even a stronger wind could break her.

My heart tightened.

This wasn’t a fair world. It never was.

Effie theatrically cleared her throat. “Well, I think we’ve seen enough. Now, we should head to dinner. After all, it’s important for you to be strong and… in good condition!”

I got up, even though I felt sick. Eating was the last thing I wanted to do, but I forced myself. The wisest thing I could do was gain a few pounds. Once we’re in the arena, hunger will be the least of my problems.

Dinner was lavish. The tables were piled high with food I had never seen in my life. Meat, sauces, bread, exotic fruits. I wanted to dig in, but just the smell made my stomach turn.

Turen sat next to me and cautiously picked up a fork. He looked at it confused, as if he had no idea what to do with it.

“Come on, hold the fork like this,” Effie scolded him, wrinkling her nose in disapproval.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Turen. Like this,” I showed him how to hold the knife and fork. “See? It’s not that hard.”

Effie rolled her eyes. “I really expected these children to have at least some basic manners.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes, because when you’re poor and spend your life fighting for food, the biggest concern is how to hold a fork,” I said dryly.

Haymitch, who had been silently watching, suddenly laughed. I looked at him in surprise—it was the first genuine, heartfelt laugh I’d heard from him since we met.

Effie sighed and was just about to launch into another lecture when Haymitch abruptly stopped and stood up. He staggered out of the room.

A loud bleating sound came from the next compartment.

Effie turned pale. “Oh my God.”

“Well, at least he knows how to use a fork properly,” I remarked calmly, continuing to load my plate.

Turen chuckled quietly.

It might have been the worst night of my life. My stomach might have been clenched with fear. I knew that in a few days, I’d be fighting for my life.

But at least for a moment, we laughed.

In the end, I couldn’t eat anymore. Every bite felt like a stone, one I couldn’t swallow. The footage of the reaping kept playing in my mind, the sound of my children's cries still ringing in my ears. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the image – Sunny clutching Mads, Lucila and Poppy reaching for my skirt, Lerus and Zira huddling together.

I put my utensils down and sighed. “I think I’m done.”

I found him in his room.

Or rather, what was left of it.

He was lying on the floor, half-naked, his shirt crumpled beneath him, his legs awkwardly tangled in the spilled bottles. The air was thick with the stench of alcohol and something worse.

I frowned in disgust. I should just leave him here.

But then the thought flashed through my mind – we need his help. Turen and I. Without him, we’d be lost in the arena.

So, I sighed, approached him, and lifted him by the arms.

“Come on, Abernathy,” I muttered. “Get up.”

He did nothing. Just mumbled something incomprehensible, his body as heavy as a sack of stones.

Reluctantly, I dragged him toward the bed, but as soon as I managed to get him onto the mattress, he collapsed back down, and I barely caught him in time.

“Come on, work with me here,” I grumbled.

His breath reeked of alcohol, his skin sticky with sweat and something I’d rather not identify.

I glanced at the bathroom door. A large bathtub, shiny faucets, clean towels.

Fine. If I can take care of six kids, I can handle one drunken mentor.

I dragged him into the bathroom with every ounce of strength I had. When I finally managed to prop him against the tub, I turned on the cold water.

Haymitch shuddered and tried to move away, but he lacked the balance to properly resist.

“Yeah, exactly,” I muttered. “If you’re going to drown, at least you’ll be clean.”

The water washed away the grime, sweat, and most of the stench that had built up on him throughout the day. When he started coming to, he looked at me with glassy eyes and tried to say something, but it was incomprehensible.

“You should stop drinking,” I said dryly.

He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant laugh. It was bitter, harsh.

“You’re telling me that?” he mumbled, trying to straighten up. “A girl who’s walking to her death and still trying to play mother to everyone?”

I clenched my jaw. “You know what? Maybe I should just leave you here.”

He didn’t answer. He just rested his head against the edge of the tub and closed his eyes.

After a moment, I sighed and turned off the water.

“Alright. You’re going to bed.”

Getting him back to his room was a nightmare. He stumbled, muttering something about me leaving him alone, almost falling several times. When I finally managed to get him onto the bed, I quickly threw a blanket over him and stood up straight.

“When you wake up tomorrow and feel like crap, well, good for you,” I said.

He didn’t respond. He was already asleep.

I watched him for a moment. In this state, he didn’t look like the victorious mentor who had survived the Hunger Games. He looked more like a lost, broken man who had given up the fight long ago.

I left him there.

When I returned to my compartment, everything felt foreign. As if I had stepped into another world, one where nothing made sense. On the bed was a silk nightgown, delicate and light like a spider’s web. When I picked it up, the fabric slipped through my fingers like water. It was beautiful, but cold. Like everything here.

Slowly, I undressed, peeling off the clothes I had worn all day. They felt heavy, soaked in sweat, exhaustion, and memories. When I pulled the nightgown over my head, its softness surprised me. It was so different from what I was used to. The clothes we wore at home were made for protection, for survival. This? This was just for decoration.

I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed my face into my hands.

All day, I had held it together. I had pretended to be strong. But now, I didn’t have to anymore. Now, I was alone.

And so, I cried.

Not loudly. There were no sharp sobs that shook my body. Just quiet, slow tears, sliding down my cheeks and soaking into the silk of my nightgown. Each tear was weighed down with emotions I had buried deep inside. Fear. Despair. Regret.

I let them flow.

I felt like I was falling apart.

I saw the faces of my children.

Mads, clinging to me, refusing to let go.

Sunny, trying to protect me, his voice trembling just like his hands.

Lucila and Poppy, panic in their eyes, even though they tried to be brave.

Leruse and Zira, screaming as if their voices could stop the inevitable.

My children. My family.

And I had left them.

I reached under the pillow and pulled out a small piece of fabric I had hidden there. It was a patch from one of our old, worn clothes. I kept it because it reminded me of home. The fabric was embroidered with colorful threads – my work. I ran my fingers over it, trying to remember the sound of the children’s laughter.

But instead, I heard only their cries.

I lay down and pulled the blanket up to my chin.

Sleep wouldn’t come.

My body was exhausted, but my mind was too loud. I tossed and turned, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the train racing along the tracks.

And then, the nightmares came.

I was in the arena.

I didn’t know exactly where, but everything was bathed in blood-red.

I heard screams.

I saw the children.

I saw Turen, trembling with fear. I saw Rue, the little girl from District 11, huddled between tree roots, hiding from something that was closing in. I saw Sunny, but he wasn’t real. He wasn’t in the arena, but somehow, he was there.

“Don’t leave us!” he cried.

I tried to run to him, but I couldn’t move. Something was holding me back.

And then I saw him fall.

I stared at his body, the blood pooling beneath him.

And I screamed.

But then something changed.

The screaming faded.

The mist that had covered everything shifted. And from it, a figure emerged.

Cato.

He stood there, a sword in his hand, his gaze locked directly on me.

His clothing stained with blood. I couldn’t tell if it was his or someone else’s.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered.

He tilted his head, the corners of his lips curving into a smile. “You should run.”

“From what?”

He didn’t answer. He took a step toward me.

And I backed away.

My heart was pounding wildly.

He should have scared me. But in that dream, in that nightmare, I didn’t just feel fear.

There was something else.

His gaze was intense. Like he was studying me, probing me.

And then, suddenly, he was right in front of me.

I could feel his breath on my face.

“What if I don’t want to run?” I whispered.

I don’t know why I said it.

I don’t know why I felt that his closeness didn’t hurt me, but protected me.

He raised his hand. Gently, carefully.

His fingers brushed across my face.

It was just a touch, fleeting, but it shot through me like an electric current.

But then—

A blow. A scream.

I turned.

And he was gone.

I was alone again.

And in the distance, something was coming closer.

I woke up with a jolt.

I breathed deeply, my heart pounding in my chest.

The silence of the compartment was unbearable.

Cato.

Why did I dream of him?

Why him?

I gripped the patch in my hands and closed my eyes.

But sleep wouldn’t come.

I hope you liked it. Part III.???

erika-simps

nowayhomenever

kittykataerokitty

[carites]

I saw a lot of people saying that Katniss will appear in the new Thg movie, I agree, but not in the way everyone thinks. I don't think Jennifer will appear. Imagine, the film is over, everyone is sitting around waiting for the credits to go up and Katniss's father appears in the forest, along with her singing Lucy's song or even The Hanging Tree, focusing on the little girl and the credits go up .

[askclato]

Glimmer: *flirting with Cato*

Clove: *staring at them silently*

Marvel: You’re really quiet today, Clove.

Clove: No one plans a murder out loud.

[atefingersdagger]

Find it so fascinating that District 1 was one of the first districts to fully rebel against the Capitol in the second rebellion. They were a Career district, but they hid their resentment so well for so long under the mask of "loyal" victors and volunteers. Obviously, for survival, yet they seemed like your regular old lap dog until it seems they said, "No, we're done cutting your diamonds and, more importantly, sending our children to the death. Your blind eyes and special treatment be damned."