#tw child hunger

[i-cant-stop-fandoming-help]

ALRIGHT, THE CEO OF REI MEKARU ANGST HAS ARRIVED. Please pardon any spelling errors, I am typing really fast and I am still really tired.

Thoughts;

I am working on an essay delving into her childhood, her perspective and actions in the killing game, and her behavior post-kg.

The most i can say is that i think she experienced food insecurity in her childhood, and that i think shs suffers from abandonment issues.

Food Insecurity and Abandonment;

According to both the game, rei had been abandoned by her parents. In truth, they had entrusted her relatives to care for her, as they(her parents) were in debt and losing money rapidly-- they could not afford to feed her.

However, said relatives never ended up taking Rei in. Leaving her abandoned amd living on the streets. I do not believe it was ever mentioned in-game nor on her character sheet how old she was at the time, but my guess is that she was 9 or 10.

Of course, being a child and living on the streets would be difficult. Countless illnesses, possible frostbite, lack of dental care, and other things.

The biggest thing, i think, would be lack of clean water and lack of proper nutrition. I am not quite sure what the lack of clean wster would be classified as? So I will focus on the food insecurity.

Before delving further into it, I would like to clarify that I have not gone through food insecurity and homelessness myself. If you have gone through such things, please feel free to correct me on any errors. As well as that, there are people going through things such as this in Palestine. Please get your daily clicks in, I will attach the link at the end.

To begin, I would like to state some signs of food insecurity in children(some of which can last to adulthood, iirc), and I will bold ones that Rei fits.

Sign of food insecurity in children include(but are not limited to);

They ask about food every day and are not picky about what they eat

They suddenly lose or gain weight but don’t change their activity level

They hoard food and snacks

They bully others or behave badly

They have a poor attention span, memory, or trouble concentrating

They are hyperactive or impulsive

They show aggressive or antisocial behavior

Now, while only two of listed signs fit Rei, I do believe it is at least somewhat likely. In chapter 4, we are shown that she handles herself well, even when starving. I think this implies that she is both used to the feeling and that she has gone through it before.

In chapter 4, almost every other character seems to be suffering from the hunger. Rei is fine, though. She's able to keep her composure, while others like Tsurugi are talking about death and fighting.

Moving on from that topic, she bears a strong hatred towards her parents for abandoning her. In her character sheet, it reads; "She would seriously think about changing her name when she thought she was betrayed by her parents. The betrayal soon turned into hatred, and she wouldn’t want to use the name of her enemy."(translated by u/toastcat333 on reddit)

Now, moving onto headcanons since I'm still really tired and I don't want to ramble on, nor do i want to end up delving into everything else and write the essay hete instead.

Headcanons;

Rei's love language is physical touch. She struggles to talk about her feelings or tell anyone she loves them, so she usually resorts to cuddling and hand-holding.

I think she would act either big sisterly or motherly towards Ryutaro. Either out of guilt and blaming herself for Kiyokas death, or because she possibly sees her kg and pre-kg self in him. (Adding onto this, i gave a hc of Ryutaro and Kiyoka's parents picking favorites. Since Kiyoka was an ultimate, she was the favorite and hardly ever got in trouble for taking Ryutaro's money.)(will elaborate on both things if asked to. I am not good at describing things, though, so I might sound a bit confusing.)

Despite Tsurugi's wishes, she did end up working to try and seperate Sora's data from the game. It ended up working, and so Rei downloaded said data onto a hard drive and gave it to Yoruko.

After Tsurugi went MIA, she no longer got drunk. She couldn't afford to, she had to take care of the foundation. Before his vanishing, a few bottles could be found in her office, due to her drinking to ignore the grief she felt st the loss of Teruya.

Rei is a pretty good driver. UNLIKE A CERTAIN GREEN-HAIRED, HAT-WEARING, MAN.

She has a pet Ferret named Katherine :3

She still has her childhood teddy bear. Its bruised and covered in different patches from repairs she has to do. As a child, she named it Mr Stuffles, as an adult she pretends it doesnt have a name. (In private she addresses it by name and asks for advice.)

SHE SLEEPS LIKE A DYING VICTORIAN CHILD.

Attachment issues. Pushes everyone away so she doesn't get attached and doesn't grieve when they leave her behind.

Blames herself for all the deaths in the KG, and for Teruya's death. Upon finding out about Kokoro being Mikako's mother, she struggled to determine if Mikako would have wanted her birth mother to live. (Even if mikako didn't remember Kokoro, nor the experiments)

Thats all for now, folks. I am heading back to sleep.

Link for daily clicks; https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

Rei Mekaru Simp Marathon 2024

Although the title sounds a bit much, I can guarantee that I’m just your average Rei Mekaru enjoyer who totally doesn’t spend every single day googling images of her or reading fanfiction about or featuring her- AHEM AHEM- anyway, I just made this post because I really want to hear everyone’s thoughts and headcanons about Rei, whether they focus on her life just before the killing game in Hope’s Peak or far before that. Admittedly, this post was made out of sheer desperation for more Rei Mekaru content, so any contributions, big or small, are greatly appreciated!

[mollywog]

THG - Chapter 2

His mother was yelling, “Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!”

THG - Chapter 7

"But you won't! You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows. You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn't mean me, she meant you!" bursts out Peeta.

"Oh, she meant you," I say with a wave of dismissal.

"She said, 'She's a survivor, that one. She is,” says Peeta.

That pulls me up short. Did his mother really say that about me? Did she rate me over her son? I see the pain in Peeta's eyes and know he isn't lying.

THG - Chapter 10

"But you're not," I say. "None of us are. That's how the Games work."

"Okay, but within that framework, there's still you, there's still me," he insists. "Don't you see?"

"A little. Only ... no offense, but who cares, Peeta?" I sav.

"I do. I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?" he asks angrily. He's locked those blue eyes on mine now, demanding an answer.

I take a step back. "Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive."

Peeta smiles at me, sad and mocking. "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart."

THG - Chapter 20

“Of course, I’m not going. Give me some credit. Do you think I’m running straight into some free-for-all against Cato and Clove and Thresh? Don’t be stupid,” I say, helping him back to bed. “I’ll let them fight it out, we’ll see who’s in the sky tomorrow night and work out a plan from there.”

“You’re such a bad liar, Katniss. I don’t know how you’ve survived this long.” He begins to mimic me. “I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You’re a little cooler though. Of course, I’m not going.” He shakes his head. “Never gamble at cards. You’ll lose your last coin,” he says.

THG - Chapter 22

“And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says.

CF - Chapter 3

“Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money,” says Peeta. Suddenly he strikes out at a lamp that sits precariously on a crate and knocks it across the room, where it shatters against the floor. “This has to stop. Right now. This — this — game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I’m too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them.”

[yelenadelova]

Nothing is as devastating to me as Peeta instantly recognizing the sound of Gale being beaten in Catching Fire, probably because his own childhood of abuse.

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

Starved

(Dorn is deeply concerned about his niece and the way she's getting weaker)

Tags: TW Child Neglect, Good intentions with terrible consequences, TW Child Abuse, TW Disordered Eating Self Dehumanization, Bad Self esteem

Also @jaghatai-khock for mentions of Zadkiel

Rogal Dorn was worried. Scratch that, he was deeply and unfathomably concerned. Something was wrong with Lilith that much he knew. She wouldn't tell him what was wrong but something clearly was. She was getting weaker by the day, and her eyes were no longer the vibrant red he first saw when they met. They had turned to a bright almost tarnished looking gold, and it didn't escape his notice that she didn't fly as much anymore. She still flew, of course she did, Dorn would be concerned if she stopped entirely, but the fact remains that five years ago it wasn't uncommon for her to be found perched on spires or window sills. There was also a matter of her age, she was supposed to be fifteen this year...but Dorn felt that she hadn't aged much at all, physically or otherwise.

It was worrying, and he was unable to get any answers from anyone aside from a cryptic "Oh that's just her mutations doing that". Dorn wasn't so sure. The Primarchs aged quickly into adults, and before this she was aging at the same rate as a baseline. If anything, she should be aging quicker, not slower. But what was really concerning Dorn was how thin she looked these days. Her face was sharp and boney, bereft of any puppy fat that should've been there at this age. He knew Sanguinius thought her blood drinking was the result of the Red thirst, but looking over at Lilith, she just looked sick to him.

"Lilith, have you eaten today?" Dorn asks her cautiously as she sits on the floor, focused intently on a sketch. She'd been drawing more often lately, though her lines were shaky these days. She also seems to be intensely focused and after a few moments, Dorn clears his throat to get her attention, "Lilith, I asked if you've eaten"'

"I had some soup earlier" Lilith responded looking up from her drawing "I haven't really been able to keep much down lately. Please don't tell Father...he's got enough on his plate. H-he doesn't need to know about this. He's got Zad and the new baby. I'll be fine"

That just started alarm bells in Dorn's brain who decided to see if he could get more answers out of her, "What do you mean you haven't been able to keep much down? And why do you think your father doesn't need to know? You are just as important as the rest, if there is a problem, he should know"

"I'm fine! It's just... some illness is all. I'll be fine, uncle Rogal. You don't have to worry about me. Kakek says that the medicine should be doing their job soon, he says it might take a few days" Lilith replies to him, and gives a reassuring smile, leaving Dorn wondering if her fangs were always that big, or if they've gotten longer.

"You told me this three months ago. You're getting worse. Tell me what is truly wrong with you" He pushes "You are ill, and you are losing weight. You're eyes are not the colour they should be, and your feathers...you have been molting far more then you should. They shouldn't look so ragged" He says gesturing to her wings which were a far cry from how they once looked, patchy with bald spots that she's desperately tried to keep hidden.

"I-" Lilith just looked uncomfortable and looked away from Dorn, "Father has other kids doesn't he?" She instead asks, a slight reverb coming to her voice as it shakes, "He doesn't... He doesn't need a monster like me. He's probably ashamed of me... I mean look at how happy he is with Zad...he never looks at me like that anymore..."

"Your father loves you, he does. Don't call yourself a monster, no child is a monster" Dorn says pulling her into his lap, being mindful of her wings "You are his eldest, his first and currently only daughter. He loves you more then you know, why would he be ashamed?"

"Because I'm hungry! I can't eat food! Every time I eat anymore it all tastes bad! Pa wanted me to stop drinking blood! And the way he looks at me! Pa never looked at me like that! Maybe he's realized that the elders were right" Lilith sobs, bursting into tears, she's completely unable to stop both her accent and reverb from fully entering her voice, and Dorn just holds her closer.

He's angry at both Lilith's plight and at his brother, but he feels useless because he has the feeling that no one would listen. So he opts to just hold her in his arms. "Do you think some blood might help you? Does that still taste good to you?" He tentatively asks her "If I were to cut myself, would you drink?"

Lilith stiffens in his arms before pushing herself away from him and quickly standing up, swaying a little before she steadies herself, "No, no I won't feed on you, uncle. I haven't had blood in....I don't remember, but I don't need it, I'm fine. I-I just have to wait for the medication to work"

It broke his heart how desperate she sounded, and he wondered if slapping his brother across the face was warranted here. It was so clear to him that she was suffering, and if it was blood she needed... "Lilith, listen to me, you need blood. You are sick. If the medicine has done nothing now, it will not do so in the future. Please let me he- LILITH!"

While Dorn had been speaking, Lilith swayed dangerously before suddenly collapsing, Dorn catching her from falling completely to the floor. He quickly checked to see if she was alright, yet she'd clearly fainted "Lilith, Lili, please wake up, did you move too quickly?"

With no response from Lilith, and him listening closely to hear a very faint heart rate; Dorn panicks. She needs to be brought to an apothecary and quite frankly he was not trusting of Malcador or the Emperor in the slightest. Instead he was going hunt down one of the Blood Angel's apothecaries. They would know what to do better then he. Maybe they can give her a blood transfusion, he doesn't know.

All he knows is that Lilith is lighter then she should be, pale with her freckles standing out far to starkly against her skin, and she was cold. So very cold. That wasn't even speaking of her heart rate, which he swore was getting weaker until he certain there was a full minute between beats. He regretted not saying earlier.

He regretted it so fucking much.

[burjoujou]

q!cellbit throughout the years: a child soldier who killed to survive, a feared convict that tried to manipulate and murder his way out of prison, a tortured investigator 8 or 9 years later stuck once again but on an island (at least he’s married and happy now).

[nat20composure]

Reupload bc oops, one file Bad idea

Fear and Hunger comic based on the game mechanic where the Girl will throw herself in front of you.......Makes me burst into tears so I had to try and make you guys burst into tears about it too

TW child death, limb loss, blood

[gripes-withthesun]

Something they'll tell you about hypothermia is that you keep getting colder till you reach the point where it starts to feel like it's getting warmer because your body tries to keep you warm with one last trick it's got - and that's when it's dangerous, that's when you know it's gone too far and in steady decline

Something similar happens with alcohol, when you keep drinking and feeling good and getting tipsy and drunk, when you keep drinking you reach a point where it becomes hard to tell how drunk you are getting - it's dangerous because you black out and don't know how much you've consumed and it easily tips over into poisoning before you know it

Something similar happens with hunger, when you go too long without food you feel the hunger pangs and the cravings for food and it fully absorbs your thoughts but it reaches a point where you stop feeling hungry and you still haven't had food but your body has realised perhaps that food isn't forthcoming and made its peace so the hunger is gone - to the extent that you may not even be able to eat much or feel nauseous when you do, even though you still need that food

Something similar happens with love when you don't readily receive it, and you know in the depths of your being how much you need it but none is forthcoming and you've made your peace with it so your body revolts from the nausea of it when affection does touch you

Something similar happens where a child or a pet or a loved one stays in the cold of disregard too long, maybe watching, maybe crying for attention, maybe hoping for affection and you turn away and eventually they know nothing is forthcoming and they quiet down and turn away - and that's when it's dangerous because neglect takes only so long to become damage; quietly, steadily, insidiously.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Dead Boy Detectives Victor AU Edits: War Crimes Chapter 4!

Yeah, this is the war-crime-iest these edits are going to get. Warnings for everything related to this au, Esther Finch, Charles' father, major spoilers, and all that.

Crystal giving Maren her name:

Esther & Edwin:

George Rowland war crime:

Charles, smiling:

Charles, after George Rowland:

Edwin, after the nightmare:

Victors Remade:

Was this okay of me to do? Probably not. But thankfully things are looking up from here, right?

(Right?)

@deadboy-edwin @icecreambrownies @anonymousbooknerd-universe @ashildrs

@tragedy-machine @just-existing-as-you-do-blog @orpheusetude @mj-irvine-selby

@pappelsiin @itsbitmxdinhere @rexrevri @sweet-like-h0ney-lavender @saffirez

@the-ipre @sunnylemonss @days-light @agentearthling @helltechnicality

@tiredghostby @sethlost @catboy-cabin @secretlyafiveheadeddragon @vyther15

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @queen-of-hobgobblers @every-moment-a-different-sound

@nix-nihili @holvivum

[ramblingmoon]

Per'Kele × Pocketcat, but they're in divorce

Thank you. May you get 10000 points of mind .

The cold mahogany conference table had on it the despair of Pocketcat. A stack of papers to divide up their property. The stark white of the paper clashed against the glossy finish of the mahogany.

The lawyer rattled on about we gets what and what the finalization would mean for each other then. Lawyer talk. But Pocketcat was really listening, he just felt so much pain. Their words being inaudible sounds. Every part of him ached. If it wasn't for the mask they could see the dark circles under his eyes.

One sad kitty.

Pocketcat dared to glance over to his future ex husband. Per'kele sat there with a coldness uncharacteristic of him. There was not playful violence in his demeanor, no seemingly laughing at his own joke. He just sat there with his arms folded and just stared forward.

Pocketcat had to look away even more heartbroken. It was his fault that his love was like this. He had broken the rooster's heart into a million pieces after he had mended it so artfully.

The lawyer finish his spiel as he indicated that it was time to sign the divorce papers. The speed of which Per'kele sign and left tore more holes into Pocketcat's already broken heart. His gloved hand traced the over Per'kele signature. Those loopy letters he use to write love letters to Pocketcat now only hung him.

He couldn't watch himself as he himself sign the papers. Eyes closed tight, he scratch his own signature on his tomb. He had missed the dotted line but close enough.

Per’kele was the first to get up and leave. As he left, Pocketcat could have sworn he saw a single tear trickle way shinning in the fluorescent lights.

This left Pocketcat stun. He didn't know what this meant for a moment or two. He just stayed there too much in his pain to realize what this means.

If that Rooster, that had his heart, was crying that meant he was sad. And if he was sad at the divorce proceedings then that must mean…

Oh my Rher!

Pocketcat jumped out of his chair, leaving it on the floor. He pounced out of the room trying to catch up to his only shot at happiness.

Per'kele was already half way down the stone steps of the courthouse when Pocketcat came bursting through the front door. He was too close to his get away car.

“Rooster!” Pocketcat yelled.

Per'kele turned towards him. Ice in those eyes, that wasn't how they where suppose to be. Like maybe bloodlust but not coldness towards him, Pocketcat.

“Look I know I've hurt you and I don't even deserve to even have a chance to speak with you.” Pocketcat started making his way down the stairs. Per'kele's eyes watching all the time.

“I've hurt you in so many ways that, I’m downing in my own guilt. But if you give me the chance, the chance I'll prove to you…”

Pocketcat was now on the same step as Per'kele. He got down on one knee and Per'kele raised an eyebrow.

“I promise you that I will spend the rest of this immortal making up for my mistakes.”

Per'kele only stared down at this cat. Pocketcat thought for a moment that this was mistake and he had really lost the best thing in his life.

“Do you promise to stop eating children everyday?” Per'kele finally said.

“Yes, a million times yes if that is what it takes to get you back!” Pocketcat lied.

Per'kele, his rooster, get teary eyes before sobbing. He had been holding it all together for so long and just let himself fall into Pocketcat's arms. They embraced and kissed. They where back together again, baby!

Needle, who was standing by the car just looked annoyed. He was so looking forward not having to deal with the damn purple cat anymore and buying underwear that wasn't purple.

Stitches thought it was very sweet as she always liked romance novels.

The Lawyer cried in exasperation as this was the 5th time this year they had gotten a divorce and it was only March!

[sufferingink]

"... I haven't noticed the strange noise from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd.... I can't place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to [Peeta]" - Catching Fire, Chapter 7

Peeta can recognize the sound of a whip like a mile off when Katniss can't. Nearly every mention we see of his family is about how awful his mother is. hmmm that sure is something

[epifaniacintilante]

Here it's safe, here it's warm

here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet

and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you

The Hunger Games (2012)

[sweetsweetperil]

Axe through ice

Blood ridden knife

I wish we had more time —

So, I took matters into my own hands,

I love you, darling, I swear,

Trust me, It’s not a crime

[worst-mother-throwdown]

BRACKET 2

Round 1

TW: child abuse, child abandonment, mutilation

Feel free to add propaganda in the replies and reposts!!

Nilvan propaganda

The Broodmother propaganda

[irenespring]

House MD- Hunger Games District Two Victor AU: Victor!House and his Mentor

Actual fic! I stir from the depths of writer's block.

---

Author Notes:

I'm back for sort of some writing! I found @lorata's world and character building for District Two so comprehensive that sometimes when I get attached to a messed up character, I start applying them to their District Two world. I've written posts about who House MD characters' mentor would be, and I was inspired to actually write some scenes.

This one isn't dialogue heavy (shocking for me) but I did think it was necessary to set up the fusion of the House characters and Hunger Games world. It's primarily hurt/comfort.

The timeline of the character victories is very unrealistic (the gamemakers would never let District Two win this much) but oh well, this is a weird AU/crossover fic. The Hunger Games divergence here is what if Cashmere couldn't face what her life would be after her victory? So the 62nd and 63rd Games would go to Two. Also Enobaria's victory in the 62nd with Nero as a mentor is replaced by Lisa (Cuddy) with Nero as a mentor. Later, a "what if one of the District Two tributes listened to their mentors and killed Finnick in the bloodbath of the 65th" for Wilson's victory. Sorry to Finnick and Enobaria, but this is still technically a House AU.

Also Hunger Games tech is weird. The kind of prosthetic I describe I think fits with Capitol technology.

Lorata's District Two holds that volunteers ditch their last names so as unnatural as it is, House is Gregory, Cuddy will be Lisa, and Wilson will be James. I know, I know.

Many thanks to Lorata for their permission to use their characters. And for their work in general. It's absolutely stellar.

---

Trigger warnings: references to child abuse, depictions of violence, ableism, dystopian government horribleness

---

The story:

The first connection he makes when arriving at the Victor’s Village is with his mentor, Adessa. Good, obedient Victors bond with their mentors in the Capitol, seeing as the mentor is always there. And saved their life, or something. But Gregory is and has always been dedicated to ignoring tradition and making his own rules. Which is why it is super fucking annoying that he found someone whose rules he listens to. At least he was able to maintain his rage for a couple weeks. That’s almost something.

If he were the type of person to say sappy shit like she’s the parent he never had, or that he would be way more tolerant of authority if they were all like her, well, he would say it. But he’s not, so he doesn’t, end of story. Well, not out loud at least.

But he did hate her at first. On account of waking up in the Capitol hospital missing his leg. 

He remembers the final fight, Cashmere sticking her poisoned knife into his thigh as he barely managed to dodge, knowing it should have struck something vital. He also remembers when he ran her through with one of his short swords, and she leaned in close with blood staining her teeth, looked at his leg, and whispered that at least he’d have something to remember her by. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that she had planned for him to win, even though he knows she hated him. That maybe the thought of him being the one to kill her was outweighed by the fear of what victory would mean for a girl from District One. Hurting him was the only way she could make it clear that he hadn’t beaten her. They had fought in training after it became clear she didn’t find him funny. During the almost mandatory pack banter, they played up the kind of sexual tension that only works when built on actual loathing tension. They tried to kill each other in the career pack split. She had been fighting for keeps then, he is certain. But he doesn’t know about the finale. One of the first things he let Adessa help him with was the feeling that she, his enemy, had gifted him his life and victory, only hurting his leg as a token of her (lack of) esteem. 

Hell of a token, though. After the adrenaline of the fight he felt the pain, the agonizing pain, worse than anything he had felt in his eighteen years of enduring torture. But he made it to the hovercraft walking on both his legs. 

He had his leg. He woke up without it.

He hated his mentor for the entire week it took to get back to the district. He endured the doctors talking about the newest prosthetics. He only barely listened to Adessa’s instructions on the proper humility to show to President Snow in order to avoid being summarily executed. He hated it. He hated looking the President in the eye and talking about how happy he was that he would be an ambulatory cripple, and how thankful he was for the Capitol’s mercy. He hated Adessa viciously, blamed her for taking away his choice even now that he had won and should have some fucking control over his life, but he listened because what she said made sense and he wasn’t suicidal.

After they finally got to the Village, it was another week until she was sure he was physically healthy enough for a hike. She took him deep into the forest under the guise of helping the prosthetic map his old neural pathways. When they were far enough she was certain no one or nothing would overhear, she gifted him with the truth.

No coddling, no hiding, no softening the words for the fragile, crippled baby Victor.

She told him what she overheard the doctors talking about. How the muscle in his thigh had died. They could save his leg, but they would have to remove the muscle almost entirely. He wouldn’t be able to walk without a cane, and he would almost certainly be in excruciating pain for the rest of his life. And then one of them had commented on how living with this “challenge” would be such a show of District Two bravery at its finest. The other had waved the comment off, but did say that it would show District Two that it wasn’t invulnerable. It wasn’t immune from the pain of the Games. Wouldn’t want them to get cocky, now that they’ve won twice in a row.

They didn’t know Adessa had overheard. Five minutes later they “briefed her” on the options. She asked them whether removing the leg entirely would lessen the risk of chronic pain. They admitted that it would, almost entirely, but insisted they could save it. She ordered them, as Gregory’s medical proxy, to remove his leg. They talked up their surgery, she insisted on amputation. They invoked the President’s support of the brilliance of the surgical technique, Adessa had held firm, affecting District Two's distrust of new technology.

She then looked Gregory in the eye and explained to him that yes, he would have to do insufferable press about living as an amputee. But it was nothing compared to the nightmares they’d force him through with a visible limp or mobility aid. The realistic-looking prosthetic, and its robotic technology helping him walk, would lessen the image image the Capitol press wanted. If Adessa had chosen the surgery, they would want to see Gregory's scar in every interview. They would only ever describe him in terms of his cane and gait. They would expect him to be soft and welcoming and unobtrusive— because surely an obviously disabled Victory couldn’t be frightening.

And even that was nothing compared to the inescapable pain they would make him endure with a smile and a humble word. 

Nothing compared to how much danger he would be in if the President decided District Two was getting uppity, and forced Gregory onto morphling to cope with his pain, with the purpose of getting him addicted— thus showing the district one of their symbols was “weak.” How even then he would still be expected to praise his torturers.

She held eye contact and told him that he had been unconscious, and she had used her decades of experience navigating the Capitol to make a judgment call. 

She hadn’t been able to stop her first Victor from falling into the claws of the Capitol, and she wouldn’t let it happen again. 

She wanted him to recover and finally live without the constant threat of physical pain. He had to stop himself from widening his eyes when she told him that he deserved a life with as little pain as possible.

So, she made them cut off his leg, she concluded. It seemed to her the only rational thing to do.

And then she did something the Centre had told him no mentor would do. Because mentors made choices for their Victors and took it as their due. She told him if he still thought she had made the wrong decision, she would apologize. She would make it up to him. He should have had control over his body, she had said with a viciousness he knew couldn’t be just about him.

He had stared back at her, shocked, feeling as though the world had been shaken from its axis. 

It somehow hadn’t occurred to him that she genuinely cared if he suffered. That she wasn’t just blindly exercising her power, as every authority in his life had done before her. She didn’t want him to hurt. She respected him. She talked to him as someone worthy of the facts. He was a person to her, not just a symbol of her prestige or the district’s strength. He was a person, and she wanted to help him.

He scanned her face, looking for the slightest hint of falsehood, he didn’t find it. Her stare was firm and unwavering. It wasn’t warm, but it was honest. 

He wanted to believe her, he wanted to trust her so badly it shocked him. Something in his chest hurt, because he couldn’t shut out the hope that this time it would be different. He should know better, but that knowledge was drowned by the desperate chorus in his mind that maybe, maybe, someone cared.

It allowed him, for one moment, to force himself to take her at her word. To consider the merits of the argument she presented.

In a moment that will definitely have sweeping strings behind in the soapy biopic he’ll make about himself, he realized she had made the right call. 

She made the right call. For him. Even though the Capitol didn’t want her to. She put his needs ahead of the Capitol— he’ll maybe leave that part out of the script.

When he makes the movie, he’ll definitely also leave out how his next thought, that repeated in his mind over and over, was that maybe he’d be safe now. 

Safe. 

He had never, ever, in his life, been safe.

And for some stupid fucking reason this robbed him of his ability to communicate beyond a nod, and produced a shit-ton of tears. He blamed the psych meds then and he blames them now, but still, a shit-ton of tears. So. Many. Fucking. Tears.

But before he could start properly hating himself for showing he wasn’t worthy of her respect with such a weak display, she moved into his line of sight. She carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, giving him time to register it as no threat. 

She didn’t crowd him into a suffocating hug. She didn’t force him to speak. She didn’t patronize him with stupid “comforting” nonsense. 

She let him cry —loudly and messily, like a small child that had never been forced into an ice-bath and thus didn’t know to shut the fuck up before someone heard— and she let him feel her steady, calm presence behind him. If he moved one of his hands to grasp her hand, just for a second, neither of them needed to talk about it. 

When he calmed down, he let his eyes reach hers again, blue meeting brown. And they stayed like that, not speaking but understanding each other, for a long moment. Finally she nodded, and he nodded back, and they exchanged small, barely-there smiles.

“We should continue our walk,” she told him. “The prosthetic does work better the more impulses it receives from the brain. Additionally, it is unseasonably cool today, and therefore we will be less likely to dehydrate on a longer journey, compared to tomorrow’s forecast.”

That made sense. Something making sense grounded him. It let him start thinking clearly. Maybe he’d feel better if his new leg worked more like his old. 

He still didn’t want to look at it, but the prosthetic no longer made him want to rip it off his body and beat everyone in the vicinity, especially Adessa, to death. 

“That’s a good idea.”

They returned to the village’s main hiking path and continued towards the lake. Gregory hated the walk prior to their conversation. The not-quite-connected prosthetic made him slightly unsteady, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that if/when a tribute burst out of the bushes, he wouldn’t be able to fight. He had felt helpless, like his mere presence would bring someone violent and angry to hurt him in his weakened state. When he had looked at Adessa, he wondered if she was judging him, or if she was enjoying having her power over him cemented in such a physical way. She could do whatever she wanted to him and he couldn’t even run. 

After The Talk (as he would forever call it, earning an amused smirk from Adessa) it was different.

He still felt helpless, for fleeting moments. But less so. When he felt the tell-tale squeezing in his chest, he subtly looked over at his mentor, walking a comfortable distance away, but still next to him. This time looking at her was strangely comforting.

It took him a while to place the not-unpleasant feeling that had settled across his mind: he felt less alone. 

He felt like maybe he really did have someone that would protect him.

He’s the messed up kind of person that needed to win the damn Hunger Games to get anything good in his life. But at least it worked. 

He and his mentor still walk to the lake often, and she keeps him safe.

[spxcemuses]

" That was so uncalled for! You didn't need to protect that red rat of a demon! For all we know, she could've attacked first! We teamed up briefly, and she thinks to stab me in the back! "

Jack shouts from the ether, very much having a tantrum right now. He was likely lying about his justifications, too, but it still didn't help the fact that he got a hatchet to the skull by some woman in cowgirl boots. He groans out of annoyance, clearly being a sore loser.

" At least I didn't die immediately! I'll give them that. Knew this thing was pointless, I didn't even get to kill anyone! "

@ladiesofhell / @venomtorn