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#camp nano april 2021
kohakhearts · 10 months
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realized i think i forgot to pause my patreon billing cycle for july (and looking at my page now i think...i also forgot to do it in march) so im sorry to anyone who was charged and wasnt expecting it. its time for me to accept that i will be taking much longer with this book than i’d anticipated so for now i’ve unpublished my page and will relaunch once osf is ready to be shared, which definitely won’t be in september like i’d hoped :(
thankfully, osa and oes aren’t going anywhere! :’) but mark my words. i Will be back one day
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insecateur · 2 years
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i haven’t drawn as much slawcs art as you would think outside of the chapter covers and it makes me sad tbh... not to mention some of it is so old by this point on account of the fic being fucking almost 9 years old
i do like this one from last year tho
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wander-wren · 1 year
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so, this is nice to see. like. sometimes it just feels like i’m not accomplishing anything, right
my ao3 wordcount for 2022, as of today:
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that doesn’t include at least 120k of original stuff, if somewhat sleep-deprived memory serves. that doesn’t count the 20k oneshot rotting while i put off finishing the last scene, or the 60k fic that’s just getting started. it doesn’t include ideas i started and pushed aside halfway through.
i hate to risk sounding like i’m bragging but damn. it’s not a lot. it’s not anything, to most people, especially being that it’s free labor.
but that’s half a million words there, easy, and i know all of them are good. i have faith in my competence.
whatever else comes out of this year, i did that much. and i know wren from last november wouldn’t have dreamed of a 500k year, let alone a 500k year i wasn’t even trying to pull. the only person i ever have to impress is my former self, right?
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winnieleighwrites · 1 year
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writeblr intro (2023 edition)
hello! i have been part of the writeblr community for over five years, and my last introduction post was back in 2021, so i will be re-introducing myself for the new year!
about me
my name is winnie. i go by she/her pronouns. i’m in my mid-20s and i’m a june cancer. i’m canadian (half-acadian, half-irish). i’m hard-of-hearing and wear hearing aids. i also have three cats with halloween-themed names (salem, male black cat, hallow, female tortie, and boo, female grey tabby).
my writing experience
i have been writing for over a decade now, starting with writing fanfictions. i was previously in a professional writing program in college. i have also written a 100k word-count manuscript after winning the 2018’s NaNoWriMo. is it normal that i haven't been able to write that much for a project since? i don't currently have a wip i'm working on, but i have this intro post i did for a heist book.
my outline progress
check out this post for a more detailed explanation, and check out this tag to see all of my outline progress posts.
my 2023 goals
i want to have five outlined story per month; i have 40 stand-alone story ideas in total, and outlined 3 of those so far. this should take eight months max.
i will participate in April’s Camp NaNo to zero draft an outlined stand-alone.
i will participate in July’s Camp NaNo to zero draft a second outlined stand-alone or finish the zero draft from April.
i will outline my halloween short-story collection in September, and will write the short stories in October in between preparing for NaNoWriMo.
i will participate in November’s NaNoWriMo to zero draft an entirely different outlined stand-alone.
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Writeblr Re-Intro version 3!
Hello I'm doing this again because there are new wips. Also new pronouns and a new name (mostly new name, I suppose)
I'm Copper or Julius or dragon or what else you wish to call me, and my pronouns are he/they. I'm queer and neurodivergent and I really, really lik I'me dragons. My main is @copper-dragon-in-disguise, so any likes/reblogs/other assorted interactions will come from there.
Here's my wips, all of them are in the same world unless otherwise stated. Title (with a link to its wip intro if there is one), then draft number in parentheses, then its main tag in the second parentheses with the description/blurb/weirdly ominous sentences below that!
Main WIPs:
Frost & Fire (draft 2) (#wip: frost & fire):
The death of an ancient primordial dragon brings the greatest (if not particularly well known) adventurers of the last centuries together. Enna Helder-Kromlin, half-elf thief and contractor for the crown of Halmond, along with her sister, Anne, leader of the thieves guild Oleski. Anastrannia & Redari Galendel, half-dragon, half-elf siblings, one a shadow ranger and one a shadow sorcerer. They must work together, if not get along, to stop a evil dragon named Dizerdrat from trying to claim the power released by the death for himself, because if he does he could conquer the world—and would.
One of Copper (needs a re intro so no link yet but there will be) (draft 1) (title may change) (#wip: one of copper):
Decades after the events of Frost & Fire, a new age of heroes is ready to start adventuring. Only these heroes weren't exactly willing, nor were they ready. Four envelopes later and they're together, tracking down the weapon of a god and facing off against enemies none of them could fathom three months before.
Silence and Secondhand Souls (draft 0) (#wip: silence and secondhand souls):
Fate is an interesting thing. Some doubt it even exists. Not me. Not anymore. Souls don't rest until they've told their story, and I've got a long way to go yet. My friends are dead and so am I, haunting a narrative I never got a choice in. How exactly did that happen, you ask? Let me start at the beginning. Or the end, rather. I died when I was 21 years old.
There are my other wips + things that are not technically wips but have tags below the cut for length reasons
Other Wips:
Angel's Daughters (Draft ?) (#wip: angel's daughters):
A prequel to Frost & Fire that's about Enna's backstory, based on the DnD campaign I originally played her in.
Starr's Story (draft 1) (this is a placeholder title and will change eventually but i've been saying that for almost a year so...) (#starrs story):
My Camp NaNo April 2022 story. It's about some pirates, a somewhat lost heir to a fallen underwater kingdom (the heir in question being the pirate captain), and an awful lot of secrets.
A Dragon's Apprentice (draft 0) (#wip: a dragon's apprentice):
Another NaNo story, but for the actual November NaNo in 2021 (a challenge which I did not even come close to finishing. Whoops). Also about lost heirs, and by that I mean that the heir got kidnapped and the apprentice wizard had to go and find them with the help of their brother.
Things that are not technically wips but have tags (none of the below are in the same world as the wips above, they all have their own world. mostly.):
Vampire Hunter Steampunk Story (#vampire hunter steampunk story):
Exactly what it says on the tin, except I messed with the rules of what a vampire actually is sooooo *shrugs*. It also may not be entirely steampunk that much. Or at all sometimes. The title is only mildly accurate.
Space story (#space story):
The product of the single time I ventured into sci-fi. The thing I know the most about is that the protagonist is an alien from Pluto. Because I'm me I got sucked down the wormhole of figuring out if she could breathe on earth or how would that work and it was a lot of a wormhole.
Supernatural story (#supernatural story):
Not that supernatural. Dear god no. I would of called it ghost story but that's a different one and besides there aren't any ghosts in this anyway it's vampires and werewolves and one girl who's part fae.
Ghost story (#ghost story):
This one has ghosts in it! May or may not be in the same universe as the above supernatural story, I'm unclear on that.
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hideyseek · 1 year
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2, 19, and 27 for the writing wrapped! ^^
thanks for the ask!! <3 sorry this is: so long aha
2. Did you have any writing goals? Did you meet them or not? ah, actually this year i did not have a year-long writing goal, but i did camp nano in april with the goal of a 20k draft of narrative!fic and i did nano in november with the goal of an 8k draft of the first arc of narrative!fic, and ... length-wise i reached both. but, content-wise i definitely did not actually produce a coherent 20k draft in april (i ended up with a 20k collection of: random fucking scenes that did not connect, which was also useful). in november i got a little closer to one coherent arc but discovered right about the end of the month that actually the first arc was not 8k (i would have had to go back and revise like 3k to keep all of the 8k within the "first arc" of story) and so cheated a little bit and skipped ahead to get to 8k of newly drafted material in the month.
19. Summarize your writing project in 5 key words. moving forward into your future (narrative!fic)
27. Which books, movies, etc, helped instruct your storytelling this year? HAHAHA THANK YOU FOR THIS QUESTION! actually this year there were several! some craft/theory books, some pieces of media that really made me go: oh, wow, okay, i want to do THAT. sorry this answer is so long lol i just... started and then kept thinking of things. the actual list under a cut:
george saunders' a swim in a pond in the rain which has fully changed the way i think about writing. this guy breaks "keeping your reader's attention" into several component parts and ... just makes writing all about keeping your reader engaged which happens to align closely with what my own goal is with any piece of writing (based on a quote from the west wing episode "the u.s. poet laureate"). HIGHLY recommend
anne lamot's bird by bird which is such a good book on how to wrangle your brain as a writer. there's not much "how to do the thing of writing" past the stage of "how to get writing on the page" so for me the primary value of this was brain!wrangling tips rather than "how to get words on the doc" but it does a great job of both. also highly recommended. she is simply so so funny and nice about it
bungo stray dogs, surprisingly enough. i think this was a big year for me of understanding / finally starting to think about structure. i am a writer who ... does not read a lot (and i think, truly, this is to my own detriment!). i don't currently consume a lot of media in a language i understand (english/mandarin) and so i've shifted my craft thinking focus to story structure rather than to capturing like, a cadence of written language (which i remember was way important to me in like 2020/2021 when i was first coming back to serious writing in college). and i'm sure a lot of other anime has also helped with this, but after bsd i was really thinking about the component parts of a larger story, and how a multi-series plot-heavy show will have to do careful work in having an arc per-episode or per several episodes, but also have cohesive series arcs as well as cohesive and consistent overall arcs. which i just hadn't ever really thought about before.
summer wars which is a movie i watched completely on a whim. i don't know that it consciously changed anything of what i DO as a writer in terms of process or anything like that. but this movie has stayed with me for months, just because it is so so SO tightly written, everything in there has it's place. and it is SUCH a good example of "BIG STORY that starts out as a really REALLY small and specific story that actually never stops being a small and specific story". that's what i want to do, so so bad!
tada-kun doesn't fall in love which frankly speaking i have not finished because i become too emotionally overwhelmed at how much i love it every time i watch an episode and then have to take a break for several weeks lol. but this was the show that made me go: OH. there is a clear difference in specifically the humor and pacing and the way that information is conveyed to the audience in in an anime-original series vs a manga-adaptation series, which got me into a larger realization about how one of my goals as a writer is to fully take advantage of the medium i'm working in, and to make the story i create one that would have to be changed (not necessarily for the worse, but different in some way) if it were to go to another medium.
thanks for the ask!! this was very fun <3
--
hehe finally getting to my writing wrapped asks for 2022!
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nade2308 · 2 years
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And I did it!!! I did it!!! I finished Camp NaNo 2022! This is the first time I have completed one of these after the botched attempt of NaNoWriMo 2021 and Camp NaNoWriMo April this year. I made it and I am proud of my achievements. I wrote every day, even if sometimes it was just adding words to a document. I worked on my main project for July and several side projects, I completed and posted several fics and I am happy with the progress I made. Until the next adventure! 🥳
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Camp is here
Camp Nanowrimo has returned. There are high hopes this month as I failed terribly last Nanowrimo (Nov. 2021) and this last April at Camp Nanowrimo. I want to succeed and finally stop letting my story roam free of rent inside my head. These characters haunt me and I think I'm done feeling isolated with them..
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Most of this month will be balancing life, Camp Nano and being a partner in a Paranormal team. Yes, you heard me correctly.
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Day 1 and I already have succeed, let's hope I can now survive the next 29 in Camp Nano and have a full-time life which is rare for me, by the way.
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People around me, as you can see from what my Husband set up for me, want to see me succeed. And I hope I can...welcome to camp, I hope you get what you want from it.
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clarislam · 1 year
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NaNoWriMo Advice/Resource List
Though I am not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, I know that many of you fellow writers and readers might be doing so! 
Linked below are blog posts I’ve written about my past NaNo-related experiences, and I hope that by sharing these, they will be of use to you! Happy writing, and good luck achieving your NaNoWriMo goals!
Things I learned in Camp NaNoWriMo July 2020
Camp NaNoWriMo April 2020: My journey, and what I learned while writing.
I Won NaNoWriMo 2021!
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nopoodles · 2 years
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In 2018 I made a series of short stories on my short story blog thingy, each part titled Welcome To [insert relevant thing here]. My wife encouraged me to turn it into a book so I put it somewhere in my pile of book ideas and vowed to come to it when I had the time and brain space.
In 2020 I was staying with my in-laws as Covid-19 surged through the world (but before march when people accepted that fact). We had just moved back from New Zealand (because covid) and were intending to move into our own place asap (because my wife had a job and the 3 hour round trip was costing more in fuel than we would have paid in rent).
For 6 weeks after we moved into the house we rented we had no WiFi so I spent my time on this sci-fi project. I worked at it and worked at it but felt like I wasn't getting anywhere.
So, when we got WiFi, I put it away for a while, decided I either couldn't manage it or I at least couldn't manage it yet.
In April 2021 for Camp NaNo, I picked it back up again, aaaand then I had the sudden and inescapable desperation to have a book out there with my name on it (there were lots of behind the scene pieces involved) so I put it back down and worked on a piece closer to completion (Merry Arlan: Breaking The Curse)
Now it's July/August 2022 and the second book in the series I've begun publishing (Guardian Cadet Series) is out with feedback readers and I decided to try this sci-fi thing again. Oh, and we moved. And I was sat in a house without WiFi as the world burned around me...
I'm starting to worry that this project is a bad omen, or maybe I just want to write it when shit hits the fan, after all, it's a sci-fi dystopia about dehumanisation
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dionyrtal · 3 years
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hello everyone! i’m here to announce my new poetry project “humming in woodvale” for camp nanowrimo! this is my first time attending a nanowrimo event & i’m thrilled to say the least.
this collection will be based on taylor swift’s folklore and evermore and i will basically write poems based on songs from both albums. i hope to offer you new POVs in closely or loosely linked verses. here are my goals for april:
— writing at least 15 poems — trying new forms like villanelle and sonnet
let’s see how it goes! i will update here as i move along. stay tuned for moodboards, playlists, quotes and updates. you can ask me anything as well.
[photos found on pinterest, source unknown but if you know the artists please let me know!]
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aritany · 3 years
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camp nano day 3—how’s everyone doing?
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javistg · 3 years
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A Second Chance CH 4.
Chapter 4 is ready!
I want to thank you all for your messages and support. I can't believe you've stuck with me and my story for this long and I'm incredibly grateful.
Also, I have added one more chapter to the story.
The next chapter is almost ready, but it won't be very long. It's just a short epilogue. Still, I hope it will be enough to answer all those questions I haven't answered so far.
In the meantime, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy. ❤️
Based on prompt 110: A time travel AU: Katniss from Mockingjay, (any part of the book, it's up to you), winds up back the day before her sister's first reaping. What does she do now that she knows what's coming? Now that she knows how Peeta feels about her, and she knows how desperately she needs him, and what they could share? What on earth could she, or should she, even do/change? And what is she should lose it all again? [submitted by @wingletblackbird For EFE 2019]
Want to read from the start? Go to AO3 or FF.net
CHAPTTER 4. 
Claudius Templesmith’s voice booms all around the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!”
As soon as the clock runs out, Katniss jumps from her platform and makes a beeline for the nearest backpack.
She’s almost at the tree line when she feels the impact of Clove’s knife sticking into her bag.
Right on cue, Katniss thinks as she slips into the woods.
Relying on her memory, she runs through the narrow paths and slopes until she reaches the lake. Getting on her knees, she shrugs the backpack off her shoulders and makes a quick inventory of its contents.
One thin black sleeping bag that reflects body heat. A pack of crackers. A pack of dried beef strips. A bottle of iodine. A box of wooden matches. A small coil of wire. A pair of night-vision glasses. And a half-gallon plastic bottle with a cap.
After filling her water bottle to the brim, Katniss starts walking again. She doesn’t want to go too far from the water —she refuses to deal with dehydration once more. Still, she tries to keep to the route she followed the first time she was there.
As she retraces her steps, she eventually comes across a familiar tree. A willow that’s not terribly tall but set in a clump of other willows, offering concealment in its long, flowing tresses.
She climbs up, sets her sleeping bag, straps herself to the branch, and waits.
The sky has already gone dark when she sees a small fire begin to bloom.
Katniss curses under her breath. Even now, she can’t bring herself to feel any sympathy for the tribute who’s decided to advertise their location in a place full of predators.
A few hours later, the Careers come traipsing through the forest. They’re about ten yards from her tree when an argument breaks.
Katniss grabs onto her branch and holds her breath in expectation.
Peeta’s words cut the bickering. “We’re wasting time! I’ll go finish her and let’s move on!”
Up on her tree, Katniss presses her lips together to contain her smile. The cameras are on her, watching her every move, and she stubbornly refuses to let the Capitol see her relief.
As Peeta walks away, she tries to conjure up all the anger and hurt she felt during her first Games so she can glare at him as he disappears from view.
XXXXX
Katniss runs through the woods, crushing branches and trampling down leaves and flowers in her rush to escape her nightmares, but it’s no use.
As the tracker-jacker poison courses through her veins —turning the world into a big shimmering bubble— Katniss berates herself for her carelessness.
She can’t believe her bow and arrows ended up stuck in Glimmer’s hands again; or that she needed Peeta’s warning to start moving.
Now, as she rushes through the forest trying to fight the ever-growing hallucinations, she knows that, once more, her clumsiness has placed Peeta’s fate in Cato’s hands.
Katniss turns a bend on the road. The earth shakes beneath her feet with the force of an explosion. She knows it’s not real, but she can’t fight it anymore. She sinks to her knees, exhausted, doomed.
Her nightmares have found her, and all she can do is give in.
XXXXX
Katniss wakes up a few days later to find her bow and arrows placed neatly by her side and Rue hiding behind a tree.  
Together, the girls hunt and forage and --just like the first time-- their fast, easy friendship blossoms.
When the time comes for Katniss to leave to blow the Careers’ supplies up, she hesitates. Maybe I should take Rue down to the river, she thinks. We could dig Peeta from the mud and start treating him. The three of us could hide in the cave and…
With a shake of her head and a heavy heart, Katniss gives up. Thanks to Peeta’s intensive training for the Quarter Quell, she knows how that story ends. Alliances in the arena never last.
She would only be postponing Rue’s death. And for what? So that she can end up holding her mutilated body after a strange mutt kills her? The thought makes her shudder.
I need to weaken the Careers, she reminds herself as she walks towards the Cornucopia. Otherwise, Peeta and I won’t stand a chance.
XXXXX
Katniss is perched up on a tree, waiting.
A part of her mind is still consumed with Rue. Images of her, bloody and speared, play on a loop behind her eyes. She tries to block them out, to distract herself with something else, but she doesn’t have the strength; she’s too disgusted with herself.
Overcome by despair, Katniss hates the choices she’s made.
She hates that, despite having a second chance, she’s still helpless to do better, that she still thinks she has to put her life first.
As the sun sinks behind the trees, her mind flies back to Peeta. He’s somewhere out there, hurt, slowly bleeding to death by the stream.
She wants to drop this stupid pretense and rush to him, but she can’t.
There is one way out of this arena, and she needs to stick to her past actions to find it. So, Katniss wraps her arms around herself and waits.
She’s almost reached the end of her rope when the sky finally lights up. No deaths.
Her heart nearly jumps out of her chest when she hears the trumpets. Eager, she perks up in anticipation.
Claudius Templesmith’s voice blares down from overhead, congratulating the six tributes who remain. “There’s been a rule change in the Games. Under the new rule, both tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last two alive.”
Claudius pauses, giving his audience time to digest the news. He repeats the change again, “Two tributes can win this year. If they’re from the same district.”
He’s barely finished speaking when Katniss reaches for her belt and begins unbuckling herself. The last time she was there, she waited for day to break, but she can’t do that this time. Not when she knows Peeta needs her.
With quick fingers, Katniss packs everything in her bag and slips the night-vision glasses on.
“Hold on, Peeta,” she says as she shimmies down the tree. “I’m on my way.”
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As soon as she reaches the edge of the water, she realizes her mistake.
It’s a cold night. A bright round moon bathes the arena in pale light but, even with her glasses, that's not enough to make her way through the slippery mud.
Muttering obscenities under her breath, she backtracks until she finds a tree to spend the rest of the night.
With the first light of day, Katniss heads downstream.
After a while, the stream begins to curve to the left into a part of the woods where the muddy banks, covered in tangled water plants, lead to large rocks that increase in size.
Keeping her eyes to the ground, she spots a bloody streak going down the curve of a boulder.
Her heart picks up speed. Hugging the rocks, she moves, as quickly as she can, in the direction of the blood.
The blood trail stops. There’s no sign of Peeta.
She knows he’s close, though.
Crouching down, she whispers, “Peeta?”
The voice that answers back is hoarse and weak, but she would recognize it anywhere. “You here to finish me off, sweetheart?”
Katniss whips around.
“Peeta?” she whispers, biting back a smile. “Where are you?”
There’s no answer. So, Katniss creeps along the bank. “Peeta?”
“Well, don’t step on me.”
Katniss jumps back.
His voice is right under her feet. Still, there’s nothing.
Then his eyes open, unmistakably blue in the brown mud and green leaves.
Katniss’s gasp is rewarded with a hint of white teeth as he laughs.
“Close your eyes again,” she orders.
He does, and his mouth too, and completely disappears.
Katniss kneels beside him. “I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off.”
Peeta smiles. “Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying.”
“You’re not going to die,” she tells him firmly.
“Says who?” His voice is so ragged it makes her chest hurt.
“Says me. We’re on the same team now, you know,” she tells him.
Peeta’s eyes open. “So I heard. Nice of you to find what’s left of me.”
Katniss pulls out her water bottle and gives him a drink. “Did Cato cut you?”
“Left leg. Up high.”
Her heart drops, she had hoped Peeta would fare better this time around, but it seems that they’re exactly in the same situation as before.
At least I didn’t leave him lingering here while I had breakfast, she thinks as she helps him take a few more sips. “Let’s wash you off so I can see what kind of wounds you’ve got.”
“Lean down a minute first,” Peeta says. “Need to tell you something.”
She leans over and puts her good ear to his lips, which tickle as he whispers. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
Katniss bursts out laughing. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
Remembering how hard it was to move him, she decides to skip that part and strip and clean him right where he is.
“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” she says as she begins digging into the mud and plants which seem to have imprisoned him.
To her surprise, Peeta shakily pushes his upper body away from the ground. A little push from her, and he’s sitting up.
His new position doesn’t last long, though. With a pained grunt, Peeta slumps against a nearby rock.
“How do you feel?” she asks, brushing the matted hair from his face.
“Woozy.”
Using her two water bottles and Rue’s water skin, she begins cleaning him up. It’s slow going. The water is cold, and he’s so caked with mud and matted leaves that she can’t even see his clothes.
When she’s done, she gently unzips his jacket, unbuttons his shirt, and eases them off him.
His undershirt comes next. It’s stained, but at least it’s not stuck to his skin.
“Can you lift your arms?” she asks.
Peeta complies, lifting one arm at a time and dropping them limply by his side as soon as he’s done.
With one last tug, Katniss pulls the undershirt over his head.
Tears well up in her eyes when she takes him in.  
He’s badly bruised. There’s a long burn across his chest and a superficial cut on his arm. There’s also a bit of good news, though.
Only one of his tracker jacker stings looks bad. The skin around it is swollen and angry. The other three have been treated, Peeta's covered them with wads of chewed-up leaves.
“Did I do OK?” Peeta asks.
“You did great,” she tells him as she gently peels the dried leaves from his skin. “You only missed one.”
Peeta closes his eyes. His head lols back. “Where is it?”
“Right under your ear.” Carefully, she pours some cold water on the spot to clean it. Just looking at it makes her chest hurt. “Hold still,” she says as she digs the stinger out of the lump.
Peeta winces, but the minute she applies a fresh batch of chewed-up leaves, he sighs in relief.
Cleaning his clothes seems pointless right now that the sun isn’t hot enough to dry them. So, she uses the cleaner side of his undershirt to pat him dry and applies some burn cream to his chest.
His skin is warm but not excessively hot. This feels like good news but, Katniss isn’t sure. They’re out by the stream, and the nighttime chill hasn’t dissipated yet. The cold weather could be masking Peeta’s fever.
Since they can’t afford to waste any time, Katniss keeps going. Standing up, she shrugs off her jacket and gently drapes it over Peeta’s shoulders to protect him from the cold. Then, she digs through the first-aid kit she got from Marvel until she finds the pills that reduce temperature.
“Swallow these,” she tells him. Peeta obediently takes the medicine. “You must be hungry.”
“Not really,” says Peeta.
“We need to get some food in you,” she insists. Remembering what happened last time, she forgoes the groosling and gives him the dried apple instead.
“Can I sleep now, Katniss?” he asks after he’s had a few bits.
“I need to look at your leg first.”
Gently, she removes his boots and socks and then very slowly inches his pants off of him.
Her heart plummets when she sees the tear Cato’s sword made in the fabric over his thigh. Gritting her teeth, she keeps going.
As Peeta’s leg comes into view, Katniss gasps.
The wound isn’t exposed. Just like the tracker jacker stings, it’s been covered with leaves.  
With trembling fingers, she carefully removes the green plaster.
The wound is terrible, a deep inflamed gash, but Peeta’s done a better job of taking care of it. It’s not oozing as much blood or pus as it did the last time.
“Pretty awful, huh?” says Peeta. He’s watching her closely.
Katniss shrugs. “I’ve seen worse,” she tells him honestly. “I just need to clean it well.”
Scooting her square of plastic under him, Katniss begins washing down his lower half.
Except for Cato’s cut, Peeta’s legs have fared pretty well. There’s one more tracker jacker sting, which he’s also cured, and a few minor burns that she treats quickly.
After pouring a few water bottles over it, the wound doesn’t look any better but, at least, it doesn’t look any worse.  
Katniss applies a handful of chewed-up tracker jacker leaves to the wound. Within minutes, pus begins running down the side of Peeta’s leg. She repeats the process. This time, very little pus comes out.
“What next, Dr. Everdeen?” Peeta asks.
“I have a bandage I can use, but there’s something I need to do first.” Reaching behind her, Katniss pulls out Rue’s backpack. “Here, cover yourself with this, and I’ll wash your shorts.”
“Oh, I don’t care if you see me,” says Peeta.
Katniss sets her jaw. Anger and humiliation rush through her veins as an image of Johanna --stripping in front of Peeta-- comes to her mind.
Fixing him with a blistering glare, she growls, “I care, all right?”
With an aggravated huff, Katniss stands up and turns to look at the stream.
As she waits for Peeta to shimmy out of his undershorts, his words come back to her. “For the Capitol, you’re pure,” he had said, clearly trying to mollify her. “For me, you’re perfect.”
Placated by the memory, Katniss sighs.
As soon as Peeta’s undershorts splash into the current, she turns to look at him.
There he is, her boy with the bread, so strong and fierce and brave. He looks small right now, pale and weak and vulnerable, but she’s not worried. Peeta's done better this time, and he’s going to push through. Just as he always does.
Katniss walks over to him and puts a few dried pear halves in his hand. “I'm going to wash your clothes. In the meantime, you eat these,” she says before heading down to the stream.
XXXXX
Katniss holds the small vial of sleep syrup in the palm of her hand. She doesn’t like what she’s about to do, but she knows she has no choice.
Peeta’s condition is not as critical as the last time. She’s managed to keep his fever from spiking, but the wound on his leg isn’t getting any better.
Besides, if she doesn’t go to the feast, Thresh won’t kill Clove.
With grim resolve, she gets to work. She mashes up a handful of berries and adds some mint leaves for good measure. Then she heads back up to the cave.
“I’ve brought you a treat,” she tells Peeta, “I found a new patch of berries a little farther downstream.”
XXXXX
“You better run now, Fire Girl,” Thresh tells her.
Katniss doesn’t need to be told twice. She flips over, digging her feet into the hard-packed earth, and runs away from Thresh and Clove and the sound of Cato’s voice.
She reaches the woods and keeps going. Blood pours into her eye, but she just swipes it away.
After a few minutes, she hears the cannon. Clove has died.
When she finally reaches the water, she slows down. She’s fairly certain Cato headed out after Thresh. Still, she doesn’t want to waste any time.
Katniss pulls off Rue’s socks, which she’d been using for gloves. Setting them aside, she splashes water over her forehead to clean the cut.
Moving quickly, she presses the socks to her forehead to staunch the flow of blood.
She knows the socks will be soaked in minutes. So, she reaches for the bandage in her small backpack and wraps it, as tightly as she can, around her forehead.
That should do the trick, she thinks, standing up to continue her trek downstream.
She makes it back to the cave in record time.
After squeezing through the rocks, she pulls the little orange backpack from her arm, cuts open the clasp, and dumps the contents on the ground—one slim box containing one hypodermic needle.
Without hesitating, she jams the needle into Peeta’s arm and slowly presses down on the plunger.
Exhausted, Katniss sighs. Her head is throbbing.
Her hands go to her forehead. When they drop back on her lap, she sees they’re clean.
After taking one of the fever pills, Katniss snuggles next to Peeta and drifts off.
XXXXX
Cato rushes through the woods, making a beeline for the Cornucopia.
Without question, Katniss follows him.
Her hands have just landed on the metal at the pointed tail of the Cornucopia when she turns back to look at Peeta. He’s not that far behind, but the mutts are closing in on him fast.
She sends an arrow into the pack, and one goes down, but there are plenty to take its place.
Peeta waves her up the horn, “Go, Katniss! Go!”
Katniss starts climbing, scaling the Cornucopia on her hands and feet. The pure gold surface has been designed to resemble a woven horn, so there are little ridges and seams to get a decent hold on. But after a day in the arena sun, the metal feels hot enough to blister her hands.
Cato lies on his side at the very top of the horn, twenty feet above the ground, gasping to catch his breath as he gags over the edge.
Katniss stops midway up the horn, loads another arrow, and points it at him, but just as she’s about to let it fly, she hears Peeta cry out. She twists around.
Peeta’s just reached the tail, and the mutts are right on his heels.
“Climb!” she yells.
Peeta starts up while Katniss keeps her eyes on the mutts. When one of them places its paws on the metal, she shoots her arrow down its throat.
Peeta reaches her feet. She grabs his arm and pulls him along.
Remembering Cato is waiting at the top, she whips around. He’s still doubled over with cramps and apparently more preoccupied with the mutts than with his fellow tributes.
This is my chance, Katniss thinks. She’s replayed this moment hundreds of times in her mind. She’s ready.
At the bottom of the Cornucopia, the mutts are beginning to assemble. Katniss can hear their calls for blood. She knows they won’t stop until they get it.  
She tugs Peeta’s arm to get his attention. “Think you could push him over?”
Peeta glances at Cato. He still hasn’t regained his feet, but his breathing is slowing. Soon he’ll be recovered enough to come for them and hurl them over the side to their deaths.
“Shoot straight,” Peeta says before taking a step in Cato’s direction and crouching.
Katniss aims her arrow at Cato’s head.
In. Out. Katniss breathes as she tries to block out the sounds of the mutts sniffing and tasting the metal, scraping paws over the surface, and making high-pitched yipping noises to one another.
Smirking, Cato pushes himself up and ducks his head under his arm to deflect the attack.
Katniss’s arrow flies and reaches its mark, piercing right through Cato’s unprotected hand.
Cato cries out and doubles over in pain just as Peeta slams against him.
Knocked off balance, Cato plummets to the ground.
XXXXX
“Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed,” Claudius Templesmith says. “Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”
Katniss looks at Peeta in dismay. She’s exhausted. She just wants the whole thing to be over.
“If you think about it, it’s not that surprising,” Peeta says softly as he pulls the knife from his belt and throws it into the lake.
Katniss doesn’t falter. She immediately drops her weapons.
“No,” Peeta says, reaching for her bow and pressing it back into her hand. “You need to use this now.”
“I can’t,” Katniss says, shaking her head. “I won’t.”
“Do it.” Peeta tightens his hold on her wrist in a silent plea. “Before they send those mutts back or something. I don’t want to die like Cato.”
“Then you shoot me,” she says furiously, shoving the weapons back at him. “You shoot me and go home and live with it!”
“You know I can’t,” Peeta says, discarding the weapons.
He turns to look at the lake. Frustration drips from his voice as he says, “This is why I didn’t want you to go to the feast, why I didn’t want you to risk your life for me. I knew it was pointless, that in the end, they were going to make us choose.”
Peeta drops on one knee and begins untying his shoelaces.
Katniss scowls; this is something new. “What are you doing?”
“I think I’m going to go out for a swim.”
Panic rises within her. The lake isn’t too deep, but Peeta doesn’t know how to swim. What if the Gamemakers decide to create waves or a strong current?
She needs to think. Fast.
Katniss kneels next to him. “Peeta, please don’t!”
“Katniss,” Peeta reaches for the end of her braid and gives it a little tug. “This is my choice. It’s what I want.”
“You’re not leaving me here alone,” she says, reaching out to grab a fistful of his jacket.
“Listen,” he says, pulling her to her feet. “We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us. Please, take it. For me.”
Katniss swallows thickly. This is the opening she was waiting for.
Her fingers fumble with the pouch on her belt, freeing it.
Peeta’s eyes widen. His hand clamps on her wrist. “No, I won’t let you.”
“Trust me,” she whispers.
He holds her gaze for a long moment, then lets go.
Katniss loosens the top of the pouch and pours a few spoonfuls of berries into his palm.
She fills hers. Her heart races in fear and anticipation as she asks, “On the count of three?”
Peeta leans down and kisses her once, very gently. “The count of three,” he says.
They stand, their backs pressed together, their empty hands locked tight.
“Hold them out. I want everyone to see,” Peeta says.
Katniss spreads out her fingers, and the dark berries glisten in the sun.
She’s not afraid this time. If the Gamemakers call their bluff, she and Peeta will have a quick death. Protected by their anonymity, Prim, Gale, and the rest of District 12 will be safe.
Still, as she gives Peeta’s hand one last squeeze as a signal, she hopes it’s not a goodbye.
They begin counting.
“One.” Did she get it right?
“Two.” Maybe this do-over is not for her but for Snow, who’s wanted her dead from the start.
“Three!” She’s about to find out.
Katniss lifts her hand to her mouth.
The berries have just passed her lips when the trumpets begin to blare.
The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouts above them. “Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you — the tributes of District Twelve!”
XXXXX
The tribute train speeds back to District 12.
Alone in her compartment, Katniss washes the makeup from her face and puts her hair in its braid.
As she stares in the mirror, she tries to remember who she is and who she isn't.
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me, but I came back. Peeta is safe. Our families and our district are waiting for us.
With a steady hand, she pins the mockingjay back on her shirt and adds, Snow’s days in power are numbered.
The train makes a brief stop for fuel, and they’re allowed to go outside for some fresh air.
There’s no longer any need to guard them, so Peeta and Katniss walk down along the track, hand in hand.  
As soon as they’re out of earshot, Katniss leans into Peeta’s side and asks, “Have you talked to Haymitch?”
Peeta shakes his head. “About what?”
Remembering how poorly this conversation went the last time, Katniss grabs his arm to keep him close. “He told me the Capitol didn’t like our stunt with the berries.”
Peeta’s body tenses under her touch. “What?”
“He says it seemed too rebellious.”
“Seemed?” Peeta deadpans.
Katniss’s jaw drops open. This is not the reaction she was expecting.
“Come on, Katniss, you can’t be that surprised. We basically forced their hand into doing what we wanted. It’s no wonder they’re upset.” Anger and suspicion quickly flash through his eyes. “Why didn’t he tell me anything?”
Afraid that he’s going to storm away, Katniss tightens her grip on his arm. “Because he didn’t want me to mess up in front of the cameras. He was afraid I’d be all prickly and aloof. So, he told me I needed to act like I was so madly in love that I wasn’t responsible for my actions.”
She knows she’s messed up the second Peeta takes a step away from her. “Act?”
“For the interview,” she quickly clarifies. “Only for the interview.”
The explanation seems to placate him, but he still asks, “So, what you did in the Games, was that—,”
“That was not an act,” she tells him. This time it’s the truth. Her only hidden motive was to bring him out with her.
Peeta nods but, before he can say anything, Haymitch appears by his side.
Even in the middle of nowhere, the old mentor keeps his voice down. “Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be OK.”
“Thanks for the update,” Peeta growls under his breath.
A deep frown settles on Haymitch’s face. “What’s up with you?”
“I just told him what you said about President Snow,” Katniss whispers.
“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” Peeta asks.
Haymitch lets out an exasperated sigh. “Since when do you need coaching on how to act in front of the cameras, kid? You’re smooth and personable, and you always know exactly what to say.” Hunching closer to the two victors, he adds, “Besides, the walls have ears, even here. I didn’t have that many openings, you know?”
Mollified, Peeta nods. Katniss knows it's just a reprieve, though. Peeta's never liked being kept in the dark, and he'll probably go after Haymitch once they're back home.
“Alright,” Haymitch says, “fun’s over. Time to hop back on board.”
The three victors head back.  
Katniss is already on board when she notices Peeta has fallen behind.
Alarmed, she whips around to look out of a window. Peeta’s just a few steps away. A smile splits her face when she notices the bunch of wildflowers in his hand.
As soon as he climbs up the stairs, he presents the pink-and-white flowers to her.  
Katniss bursts out laughing. Her eager hands reach for the offering. “You brought me lunch, how thoughtful!”
Peeta tilts his head in question. “Lunch?”
Katniss nods. With soft fingers, she traces the edge of a pink petal. “They’re wild onions. Gale and I gather them sometimes.”
Peeta’s face turns serious. “Katniss, I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to snap—,”
“No,” she cuts in, “I get it. We’re a team. We’re in this together.”
Peeta reaches for her hand, interlacing their fingers to bring their palms even closer. Hope lights up his face when he asks, “Together?”
Katniss nods. Standing on the tips of her toes, she presses a soft kiss to his lips and whispers, “Together.”
XXXXX
The Tribute train pulls into District 12.
Katniss and Peeta stand side by side, watching their grimy little station rise up around them.
Through the window, Katniss sees the platform’s thick with cameras. Everyone will be eagerly watching their homecoming.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Peeta extend his hand. His eyes are warm and soft, her safe place in the storm that’s about to be unleashed.
Smiling back at him, Katniss takes his hand and holds on tightly as she prepares for the cameras. Her heart feels full, grateful for the fact that she won’t ever have to let go.  
XXXXX
On the first Sunday after the Capitol cameras leave, Katniss sneaks out of Victors’ Village.
Partially hidden by the dim light of dusk, she quietly walks to the Seam.
A part of her wishes she could sneak under the fence and go to her and Gale’s meeting place like she did before. She mises the sounds and the smells of her woods and longs to hold her father’s bow, but she knows the rock ledge isn’t safe. Not today.
President Snow has eyes and ears everywhere, and she can’t afford to repeat her past mistakes. Not when what she has to say is this important.
Two blocks away from Gale’s house, she finds the perfect spot; a narrow corridor that stretches between two shacks. Despite being open on both ends, it’s dark and much too small for foot traffic or lampposts —which makes it a perfect hiding place— and it faces the street Gale uses to go to the woods.
She’s only been there for a few minutes when a silent silhouette walks past.
“Gale!” Katniss hisses as loud as se dares.
Gale stops on his tracks and turns towards the sound, leaning slightly into the small dark corridor.
Smiling fondly at her friend, Katniss lifts her hand and wiggles her fingers in greeting.
The glimmer in his eyes tells her he’s surprised to see her there, but he doesn’t hesitate. In two long strides, he’s by her side with open arms.
Just like she did the last time, Katniss jumps into his embrace.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembers crying —sobbing in Gale’s arms until she began to hiccup and tremble— but she doesn’t cry now. She doesn’t have time for that. Instead, she buries her face in his jacket and breathes him in, letting his fresh, clean scent comfort her and give her the strength she needs to carry on.
Pulling away from her friend, Katniss smiles. “Hi!”
“Hey!” Gale points his thumb back towards the woods. “I was on my way out to meet you.” Dropping his hand, he turns around and inspects their tight hiding place. “What are you doing here?”
“I knew you’d pass by.” Her smile drops. “We need to talk.”
A dark cloud passes through Gale’s eyes. “What’s wrong, Catnip?”
Grabbing a fistful of his jacket to keep him from storming away, Katniss begins to talk. As quickly as she can, she tells him about President Snow’s anger.
“He’s mad at us for showing the Capitol up in the arena and turning it into the joke of Panem,” she says. “It’s something that wouldn’t have mattered much before, but Snow’s control over the country is slipping. His enemies are gaining strength, and he can’t afford to look weak in front of them.”
Anticipation lights Gale’s eyes. “His enemies?”
“Rebel forces are organizing all over the country,” Katniss says, “even the Capitol has a few dissenters, but Snow’s biggest problem is District 13.”
Gale takes a step back. “Thirteen? There’s no Thirteen. It got blown off the map.”
“No, it didn’t,” Amused with the look of shock on Gale's face, Katniss smiles. “District 13 is still there. That footage we’ve seen, with the rubble and the ruins, is always the same shot. The Capitol just uses it as a backdrop for its TV presenters.
“The people of Thirteen have spent the last 74 years living underground, and they're done waiting. They’re eager to get rid of Snow.”
Gale shakes his head, still too disconcerted to fully grasp what’s happening. “How do you know all this?”
“I heard about it while I was in the Capitol,” she lies, convinced that this is the only possible explanation she can give him that will make some kind of sense. “I overheard some conversations during my training, and then, while I was recovering, I was... approached.”
“Approached?”
Katniss nods, hoping Gale won’t press any further. She’s ready to tell him what she knows about Eight and a few other districts, but she doesn’t want to go into any specifics in case someone decides to check up on her info later on.
Luckily, Gale is a man of action, and his hatred for the Capitol runs deep. He has all the information he needs. “So, what are you going to do?”
“Well... All eyes are on me right now, so there’s not much I can do —not if I want to keep my family safe— but I was thinking...”
Katniss looks up, silver eyes bright with trust and hope. “Nobody knows who you are, Gale. No one is following you. You could go. You could just sneak under the fence and march down all the way to Thirteen and tell them everything I know."
"Wait a second," Gale says, raising his hands as if to shield himself from her plan. "If what you're saying is true, District 13 must have agents in every district. So, why would they need me to relay your information?"
Katniss shakes her head. "Thirteen is in contact with a few people, but they don't have access to every district. My information is not very detailed, but it comes from every corner of Panem. The leaders of Thirteen might be able to use it to band the rebels together before Snow sends his Peacekeepers to start cracking down on us."
Pulling his shoulders back, Gale backtracks until his arm touches the cold cement wall. Looking past Katniss, he stares at the empty street at the end of the corridor.
Enveloped by silence, she sees his mind working, turning, and churning ideas as he tries to come to terms with what he’s heard.
“What about my family?” he finally asks.
“I’ll take care of them,” Katniss promises, “just like you took care of mine.”
When Gale looks back at her —full of fire and determination— she knows, clear as day, that she’s made the right choice.
Gale Hawthorne wants the revolution more than he wants anything else.
“I’m going to need a few supplies,” he says, his mind already thinking ahead.
“That’s not a problem. I’ll help you get whatever you need.”
Crossing his arms, Gale tilts his head to study her closely. Uprisings and rebellions are far from his mind when he asks, “So…you and the baker’s son. How long has that been going on?”
Katniss shrugs. What should she say? A year and a half? A month? A week? She doesn’t really know when to start counting. So, she sticks with the vaguest thing she can think of. “A while.”
A mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. “I can’t believe I never noticed.”
“Well," Katniss slips her hands into her pockets. Discussing Peeta with Gale --or Gale with Peeta-- has always made her uncomfortable. Luckily, her friend's tone is a lot more subdued than it used to be.  "We weren’t exactly shouting it over the rooftops, you know?”
Raising a questioning eyebrow, he locks his gray eyes with hers. “I thought you didn’t want to get married.”
“I changed my mind.”
As soon as the words pass her lips, she knows they’re true.
She still doesn’t want to have children. If her trips to the Games have taught her anything, it's that Panem is not a safe place to live. But she doesn’t want to be alone anymore, not when she can be with Peeta.
Hoping to put the conversation to rest, she lifts her chin and adds, “Peeta changed my mind.”
Gale nods, slowly taking her in as if he's seeing her for the very first time.  
In the small space, Gale offers his hand. "OK, Catnip, I'll do as you ask."
Smiling, Katniss reaches out to shake it and seal their deal.
Katniss heads back to Victors' Village feeling lighter than she has in weeks. Her plan is in motion. Gale is going to District 13.  
As she reaches the steps of her new home, a thrilling thought crosses her mind.
She's back on uncharted waters. The future is about to become uncertain once more.
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vividly-creative · 3 years
Text
Me writing my wip: I love this! Everything is turning out so good! Man I can’t wait to finish it. I’M SO EXCITED!
Me posting an excerpt from my wip: Well this sucks, what was I thinking? *Deletes everything*.
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