should i read the hunger games
should i read the hunger games
If Suzanne hadn’t been a coward and had Gale reaped alongside Katniss, the entery of THG would have been just that much better/impactful. In my opinion. Feel free to disagree, but idgaf. I’m going to be riding the high of the absolute impact Gale and Katniss would have made as the Boy-and-Girl-on-fire of District 12 for probably forever.
I’ll say it, doing the star-crossed lovers bit with Gale rather than Peeta would have made a much more compelling narrative... ...seeing as how Katniss and Gale would have actually fallen in love during these Games. How much more potent would that have been? Katniss in the arena, back to back with this boy she knows almost well as herself, and who knows her the same way, this partner of years, possibly the only person in the world she trusts? And how much more dangerous for Katniss, in a moral sense? At some points, the games become fun for her. She has a wealth of surety in Gale, the burden of simply surviving is lifted with him in the Games with her, and it just becomes another hunt. The world narrows down into just them, alone in this forest like so many other days, even though the entire world is watching. It’s always been them against the world, this isn’t any different, it isn’t any less doable. How can they not win? So yeah. The lost potential.
evil peeta mellark be like: NO BREAD FOR YOU.
Inktober day 27 is spark and that belongs to the one character that defined my childhood prior to middle school: katniss everdeen
7. You just looked outside and noticed someone standing in your backyard staring right at you.
Halloween/Horror Prompt List
Under the cut. Trigger warning: gun violence, moderately explicit. Swearing. Brief mention of blood.
I changed the prompt a little to suit myself. Thanks again for the prompt!
I’m heading back to the bakery after my three a.m. smoke break when Finnick sticks his head out the office door. He gives me a bleary-eyed nod of acknowledgment before rubbing the heel of his hands against the sockets. Dark circles mar his typically god-like looks beneath his green eyes. He looks like hell. A handful of years ago, I would’ve blamed Finnick’s haggard appearance on one too many late nights at the dive bar across town, drinking shitty whisky and chasing anything warm and willing, same as me.
That’s no longer the case. Mr. Gorgeous has his life together, at least as much as anyone living around here does. He’s got a wife, a new double-wide trailer, and a baby who keeps Annie up most nights. He doesn’t say much about his family, but I know Finnick worries most nights he’s here, pulling his shift as graveyard manager of the local 24-hour Fuck-It-All-Mart.
I get why he worries. Annie’s wires already weren’t strung the tightest before the baby was born, and I guess her postpartum depression has been a real roller coaster ride of up and down mood swings for her. God, I don’t envy her that. Not that I have any room to talk about mental health; we’re all fucking crazy in this town. Panem, West Virginia, is the kind of place where dreams go to die.
Unlike Finnick, my bad habits of drinking too much and picking up random women on my days off from this shit job haven’t changed. I only have myself to take care of, and whether I’m here or not, I do a bang-up job of it. I can’t seem to find the will to settle down or stop self-medicating with women and alcohol.
I don’t have a reason to care. Once upon a time, I had a bright future- the only girl I ever loved, a full-ride scholarship to State, prospects from here to the moon. One night I fucked it all up, bad, and I’ve been paying since. It serves me right.
Despite my personal sob story, because everybody has one, don’t they? I’m not a complete asshole. I still want to help out my friends when I can. I don’t have many left.
“Why don’t you take off early? Jo and I can handle it,” I tell Finnick, waving at the lone stock girl-slash-cashier working the floor tonight. Her smile is full of saccharine when she shoots me the middle finger. In turn, she gets the classic jerk-off motion from me. It’s fine. That’s how Jo and I communicate.
The store is a ghost town this time of night, exactly why it’s the perfect time for me to come in and do the baking. Working nights also means I don’t have to cross paths with many customers. I prefer it that way.
I haven’t always been like this- I used to be friendly and try to act like a decent human being. At least Finnick is trying to be a better person, taking responsibility for the people he loves. Sometimes I think Finnick and Annie’s relationship is mainly based on him atoning for his past sins.
It’s been a long time since I’ve considered asking for forgiveness of any sort.
“You should go,” I reiterate. “I’ll clock you out at six. Don’t worry.”
Relief crosses my friend’s face. I've made it easy for him to do what he wants. That's one thing you can say about me these days- I don't fight the inevitable. I never make waves. Whatever is going to happen, I just let it happen.
With another “thank you,” as he hurries out the door, Finnick leaves for the night. I hope Annie and the baby are sleeping when he gets home. I hope someone gets something good out of this fucked-up thing we call life.
“Heading back,” I tell Jo as I make my way towards the kitchen.
“Kay,” Jo waves me off as she stands from stocking one of the lower shelves. We have a routine. She will get me to watch the front when it’s time for her break; she’ll probably bum a cigarette off me. We both keep saying it’s a dirty habit, that we’re going to quit. We’ll do it together because it’s always easier when you’re accountable to someone else.
Neither of us makes an effort to do so. I feel like smoking is the least of my problems.
I fall into the familiar rhythm of filling pans with dough, glazing doughnuts, frosting cupcakes until Jo hollers that she’s going out, and can I come out to the floor and cover for her? While she’s gone, I flip through the Panem Tribute, our local news rag. It’s full of lots of stupidity and very little that constitutes news. I noticed that one of my former classmates died of a drug overdose once I reached the obituary section and let out a tired breath. Typical for Panem, but goddamn, I hate it.
Jo is back quicker than I anticipated she would be. Her face is white, even more than usual against her black hair and painted black lips. “Someone is hanging out on the far side of the back lot. A woman. She was watching me,”
“You know this is a shit neighborhood,” I remind her.
Jo rolls her eyes. That girl isn’t afraid of anything. Typically. “I know that doesn’t sound that weird but, it’s weird.”
I frown at her and the way she’s floundering over her words like she’s trying to fit a puzzle back together, and the pieces no longer line up. “Did it seem like something was wrong with her, like was she high or out of her mind or something?”
“No, it was just- no,” Jo tilts her chin up, challenging me to argue with her. “That woman out there, I would swear it’s Katniss.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny.”
“There’s no way she’s back; it can’t be-”
Jo grabs my shoulders and pivots me toward the back of the store. “Go see for yourself.”
It’s quiet as the grave when I make my way out the back door of the stock room and out to the loading dock. Fog settled in since I was last out, and I’m wondering how Jo saw anything at all back here when she’s suddenly there.
Tremors begin at my jaw and spread through my facial muscles, torso, arms, and legs. I feel like an uncontrollable mess as my hand migrates to cover my lips in an attempt to calm myself. Oh god, it’s really Katniss, and she’s as beautiful as she was the last time I saw her.
She moves toward me, and I’m choking, sobbing- snot and tears running down my face so rapidly I have to grab the hem of my shirt to wipe my nose and eyes. I hate to miss out on even a second of looking at her, but the mess I’m making of myself is leaving me half-blind in the hazy night air.
“Why are you here?” I manage, trying not to hyperventilate and doing not the best job of it. “I didn’t think-”
“Peeta,” Katniss says softly, and when she touches my arm, my eyes slide closed. The relief of seeing her again, feeling her touch again, all conspires to make me weak and drain any sense of reason away.
I never thought I’d see her again, not after the way things ended between us.
“I came to tell you I still love you.”
“But how can you, after everything? That night, and, and-”
“Peeta,” she repeats my name, and I whimper because I’ve missed my name crossing her lips so much. “I forgive you. For everything, for what you did that night, and the way you’ve been hurting yourself since.”
“You do?” I wipe tears out of my eyes with the back of my hand, choking on a laugh. “You forgive me?”
“Yes. And I want us to be together again.”
“Katniss, I want that more than anything.” She leans into me then, throwing her arms around my neck, laying her head against the spot on my chest that’s hers. The bitter thought of all the nameless women I tried replacing her with since she left crosses my mind, but I push the thoughts out just as quickly.
What’s done is done. Katniss is here, she forgives me. It’s something I could never do for myself. I’m the luckiest man in the world.
“This time, it’s for aways,” Katniss whispers, smiling at me reassuringly, tears slipping from the corner of her eyes. I’m not the only one shaken. “Meet me after work, okay? I’ll wait for you. Your shift is almost over, and Jo might need you, so you’d better get back.”
“You promise, you’re not going to leave again?” I ask before I go, my hands framing Katniss’s face, my eyes tracing the contours of her beautiful face- her grey eyes, full lips. I want to kiss her until I’m out of air. I want to drink her in like a man dying of thirst. I’ve lived a drought since she’s been gone.
“I’m afraid I’m going to walk away and never see you again,” I admit.
Katniss runs her thumb across my lips in a tender gesture that sucks the breath from my body. “You’ll see me soon, Peeta. I promise.”
I stumble back into the store on feet that I don’t quite grasp the how or why of moving. “Jo!” I shout, rounding the corner of shelves blocking the registers from my view. I have to tell her she was right. I can’t believe this moment is real. I have to talk to her about it! “You were right! It was her; it was Katniss!”
Odd enough, I don’t get an answer. I’m wondering why Jo is staying mum because this is precisely the type of situation she’s always so quick to say “I told you so” in answer.
I round the corner, and my first thought is what I’m seeing doesn’t make sense. Why is Jo shaking like that? I can see she’s frightened out of her mind. Jo isn’t afraid of anyone.
But then I notice the man with her, standing on the customer side of the register counter. He has a shotgun, and it’s pointed in Jo’s face.
“No,” I whisper as if my words are going to do anything.
If he fires the gun at Jo, it’ll blow her head off her shoulders. There’s no coming back from a shot at that close range.
Jo’s eyes flit to mine, wide, frightened, then land on the man with the gun.
“Hey,” I hear myself say. I have to distract the man. I don’t have a plan, but I have to do something, right? “What do you want- you want money? I can get you money. Just put the gun down. Don’t hurt her, please.”
I don’t know what I do to startle the man, but I seem to surprise him. He startles, swinging the gun my way. It looks like a knee-jerk reaction or a reflex because he moves so fast. His hand is on the trigger, and I hear the sound of a car backfiring as my chest explodes. I slump to the tile floor beneath the bright, artificial lights of the store. Pain. There’s so much pain and blood. The blood is everywhere. I choke under the weight of it, drowning as it fills my lungs.
I didn’t know I could bleed out so quickly, but the man wielding the gun was an excellent shot.
My eyes slip closed, and distantly, I hear the sounds of Jo screaming. The light fades into darkness.
A soft, familiar hand strokes my hair, a warm touch brushing the strands away from my forehead.
I open my eyes again. There’s light here too, but it’s softer yet brighter. There’s no more pain. I wonder if the light is coming from her.
“Peeta,” Katniss greets me, smiling. My head rests in her lap. It’s so lovely here.
Even though I’m dead, I’m finally complete again, whole with the one meant for me and me for her.
I’ve been half-alive since the night of the accident.
We were driving home from a concert. I’d surprised Katniss with tickets for her favorite band. We drove all night to get home when we shouldn’t have. I was exhausted, and I should have admitted that to her.
My last memory of that night was watching Katniss doze in the passenger seat, the highway lights playing skipping games across her face in the dark interior of the car.
They said I was lucky to escape with my life while Katniss, unfortunately, wasn’t. They said she died almost instantaneously.
“What’s it like?” I ask, rolling onto my stomach and resting my cheek against her thigh. Katniss wears a dress of some soft, thin material; I take the opportunity to stroke her calf. I never want to stop touching her, reassuring myself she isn’t leaving me again, that she loves and forgives me for failing her. I’m really here, with her, wherever here might be.
Katniss sighs, running her fingers through my hair. “It was good while I was waiting for you. Now that you’re here, it’s perfect.”
took me like a good 2 weeks to read this (because i didn't want it to end) but truly one of the best and personally my favorite fic i've ever read! obviously, i'm biased because it combines my two favorite things ever but i swear, this is a must-read if you're a tsr fan
THG Discovery: Discover Wednesday
Welcome to week 38 of THG Discovery!
Remember, if you’d like us to showcase a work of yours (or if you have any questions), put it in an ask, and we will answer it with a link to that work. Thank you!
Writer: socolormecurious-What Doesn’t Kill You (M, Everlark, Gen, multi THG characters); I Long to Hear You (M, Everlark, Gadge, Prim/Rory); The Baker’s Weakness (G, Everlark, baby!P and K)
Writer: bookworm722-Starcrossed (T); The Journey (T, Everlark, Johanna, Finnick, Annie, Gale); The Arrangement (T)
Artist: @mrsgingles-Hayffie kiss; In a Quiet Moment, Post-Mockingjay Reunion; Shaking Hands
THG Discovery Admins
@taylerwrites @jhsgf82 @mrspeetamellark
I think I might write a follow up to this, because it just felt natural to end it where I did, but there are definitely more details of what happened after sooo....
This also may be something I rewrite or do an entirely different version of in the future because idk how happy I am with it.
The sun light streams in through the curtains, a light breeze that comes in through the open window occasionally wafts them up and down as if they’re taking a breath for life each time they rise and fall. Peeta cuddles me from behind, his strong arms making me feel as safe as ever. I sigh and lean into him, perfectly content to stay this way for the rest of the day. Peeta on the other hand, must have other ideas, as I feel the mattress shift as he moves to sit up, pressing a light kiss to my neck and another to my cheek as he does so. I groan, rolling onto my back. “I’ll be right back” he promises, “I just need the toilet”. He moves a stray hair from my face, places another kiss on my forehead, then reaches for his crutches.
I pull the covers up further, burrowing in to them, missing Peeta’s warm body next to mine. He returns after a couple of minutes, smiling at me as he climbs back into bed, wrapping himself around me once again. I snuggle into his side, reaching up and kissing his jaw, letting him know I’m glad he’s back. “Hey, I had an idea of something we could do today” he says. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” I ask.
He pulls me tighter to him, brushing his lips to my ear, “marry me?” he says softly. I grin. Warmth spreads through me and I kiss him, my leg moving up and wrapping around him. “Is that a yes?” he asks as he manoeuvres himself so that he’s balancing above me. I look up into his blue eyes, steady and unwavering. There’s a glint in there as he anticipates the response, I’ve all but given him already, but I know he wants to hear me say it. “Of course it’s a yes!” and I pull his lips down to mine once again.
A couple of hours later, we make our way down stairs. I walk to the stove and put the kettle on, whilst Peeta pulls out the ingredients for bread. Our toasting bread. This feels so surreal. I never thought I’d get married, let alone live to see a day like this, yet here I am. It’s happening and I’ve not got any second thoughts. I make tea for the both of us and sit up on the counter, watching as Peeta’s hands work the dough. We sit in a comfortable silence, catching each other’s eyes occasional and smiling. The feeling between us is electric this morning. Once Peeta begins to tidy up, I give him a peck and tell him I’m going to get ready.
Once I’ve showered and re-braided my hair, I look in my wardrobe. This has never been an interest of mine. Clothes. Still, this is a significant day and I feel I should make some kind of special effort. I know my mother would insist that I wear white, so that’s what I decide I’ll do. Oh yeah, my mother. Should I tell her what’s about to happen? No. If she can’t face the District, she doesn’t get to know what happens every second of every day. Perhaps I’m being harsh. She has her reasons. I understand that now. Understand how she checked out. Understand how somethings are just too hard to face. After losing two of the people that I love the most in this world, I get it. At least one of them was able to come back to me. That’s why we’re here today isn’t it? I decide that I should give my mother a call this evening after it’s done, she should get to be the first person to know. She deserves that. After sifting through several dresses, I settle on a knee length white slip dress left behind by Cinna. I actually don’t think this was intended to be worn on its own. It doesn’t matter though. You can’t see through it and it gets the job done.
Peeta’s just putting the loaf in the oven when I make my way downstairs and wrap my arms around him. He pulls back, his hands on my shoulders, his mouth breaking into a ridiculous smile as he looks at me. “You’re wearing white” he says
“Well, that’s what you wear on your wedding day isn’t it?” I quip back, raising an eyebrow and trying to stop the smirk that’s passing my own lips.
He cups my cheek in his hand, drawing me closer to him, his thumb lightly tracing over my cheekbone. “I know.” He says softly, “you know, the number of times I’ve imagined this day…I just didn’t think you would.” He kisses me now, slow and tender. “Not that I care of course” he continues as he pulls away, “I’d marry you in your pyjamas if it meant I got marry you.”
I pull at the hem of the dress, “I think this I supposed to me more of an under garment than an actual dress, so I guess I’m half way to getting married in my pyjamas already.”
“Then it’s definitely perfect” he chuckles, pulling me in for one more kiss.
A couple more hours pass and we’re ready. The bread is out the oven. Peeta has arrived down stairs in a simple but nice shirt and smart trousers, claiming that if I’ve made some effort to look bridal then he should make some effort to look like a groom. I grab a dark green cardigan that’s been tossed over the back of the sofa and put on my usual leather books and we leave. It’s a relatively quiet day in town, so we don’t have to worry about our secret plans for the day getting out. We make our walk hand in hand towards the justice building. Once inside, it’s a relatively quick process once we’ve made our way to the front desk and declared our intent to marry. We’re directed to another wing of the building where we fill out some paper work that’s offered up to us by a bored looking clerk, who reads the rites off a clip board, tells us to sign our names in a couple of different places and then pronounces us man and wife. Then just like that, the legal part of the process is over. “Now are you ready for the real wedding?” Peeta asks pressing his forehead to my temple as we leave the justice building. I turn to capture his lips with my own, stopping us in our tracks. “Definitely” I grin.
We rush home. There’s no one to sing us the traditional song as we cross the threshold, so we sing it to each other between kisses and giggles. It feels light hearted, silly, even. Out of the District 12 rituals, the song isn’t the most important thing to us, but singing it any way and getting to partake in a ritual that almost feels as old as time itself makes us feel some kind of normalcy. Peeta goes to fetch the bread that he left to cool on the table as I stoke the fire and continue to sing the song. I kneel in front of the fire, taking off my cardigan. Peeta walks over and kneels in front of me, holding the bread out. Our eyes meet and in that moment an air of sincerity falls over us. This is it. What was always meant to be. This would have happened anyway and I can see that now. My heart bursts, sending golden streams of warmth throughout my entire body. With baited breath I take the bread from Peeta’s hand, he pulls the bread knife from his back pocket and hands it to me and watches as I cut a slice of bread. No words are needed as I place the bread on a toasting fork, he places his hand over mine and our eyes meet once more. His beautiful blue eyes, so full of awe and wonder look into mine as if to say “ready?” The giddiness is palpable and I’m ready. With that one look, we plunge our toasting fork into the fire, going, just as we have always done; together.
SOMETIMES KILLING ISN’T PERSONAL.
independent. mutually exclusive. gale hawthorne of the hunger games. loved by val (29+) since 2012.
if suzie ever writes another book and it isn’t about the secret friendship of caesar flickerman and plutarch heavensbee i will personally show up at scholastic and give them a good ted talk
anyway bouncy bisexual who is hyperactive following a mere look in the mirror (and maybe a fourth coffee) being best friends with quiet history nerd who pretends his friend is annoying but would not change a single thing is. a vibe that we as thg fans have been deprived off thanks
AGAIN, Katniss and Gale and the Seam are NOT-WHITE, and Suzanne Collins, although she wrote a marvelous story, is not exempt from criticism, and as a Catholic white woman with a military background, DOES HAVE certain prejudices about certain things that DO show in her writing. See how she writes Thresh (a black boy) as talking in broken in english, and describes him as “big and quiet.” She also does this with another character in tbosas. See her dismissal of Gale and Katniss’ non-palatable rage and bitterness at their situation in life, and want to survive, and want for revenge in-text as bad, and also see how she makes out a white boy to be paragon of virtue, and has someone in-text literally tell a young girl she is a worse person than this white boy for being terrified that she is going to shortly die. See also the pregnancy thing, and then shoehorning in Katniss wanting kids/having kids in the ending, although Katniss had been shown as someone who didn't want any. And these are just some of many issues. It’s so obvious, if people only care to look and examine how her beliefs bleed through into her writing.
Judging by the way media (and sometimes us, readers, too) treat The Hunger Games and the message it was trying to convey, I am not at all surprised why S.Collins immediately after publishing her books just disappears from the sight.
I understand how discussing your favorite characters can get quite heated but, please, they, in the end of the day, are just that - characters. We cannot keep fighting and hurting real life people because of fictional characters. We should remember that respecting another human’s dignity and feelings are far more important than proving your point. I’m not saying everyone should agree with everything always -no, nevertheless, we can share and discuss things with kindness.
honestly, why did the films turn katniss into a girl boss when she’s the least girl boss person in the books?
if someone in this series really has to be the girl boss I think it has to be coin or effie trinket lads
Honestly, I don’t think Gale and Katniss are bad for each other. In an alternate time line I could see them being perfectly happy together.
The thing about Peeta and Katniss, is it’s their differences that make them a potentially better match for each other. They bolster each other. What cements this for me is when Katniss says that “this would have happened anyway”. They’re intrinsically linked and have been from a young age before they even realised it themselves. There’s a natural draw there.
I actually always view Katniss and Gale as soul mates, they understand each other in this beautiful way that no one else can and it can’t be worked for. You either understand or you don’t. The thing about soul mates is they aren’t necessarily romantic. I do think the relationship between Gale and Katniss is really beautiful and that’s why it’s so heartbreaking when the wedge between them makes them grow so far apart beyond repair.
The thing is Gale and Peeta are both such symbolic characters and both represent several different ideas and sadly for Gale he represents a life before the games, after which everything changed for Katniss whether she wanted it to or not and he represents the fall out from that. They grow apart and that’s why in the official canon they can never work.
I really enjoy both Gale and Peeta as characters. I do think on a technical narrative perspective Katniss needed to end up with Peeta and as a reader invested in these characters and their lives, I was glad to see her live out the rest of her life with him. I’d love for her to have reconciled with Gale too, but sadly it doesn’t seem that it ever happens. And yeah, I don’t think she’d have been quite so supported and necessarily got what she needed out of a romantic relationship with Gale but if they had ended up together I don’t think it would have been this car crash thing either and I think they would be happy.
I actually need to find more fics about Gale and Katniss’ canon relationship because I do love it. Also any fics where the reconcile, sign me up bby