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#the hunger games

Is it weird to anyone else that Jennifer Lawrence literally embodied a story where a tyrant upper class bleeds everyone else dry, continually oppressing them while they live lavish and is still like “fortunately I got to see the fiscal benefits of Republicans tehehehe.” Bitch shut up.

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A United Nation…

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are dead. Tributes in the 74th Hunger Games, they failed to overpower the career boy who would go on to win the Games and continue the streak of what was expected by the citizens of Panem. The districts never rebelled using the District 12 girl as a beacon for hope. No flaw in the system was exposed. The Hunger Games continued without fail.

A rebellion born in the years after the fourth Quarter Quell played in the shadows, too flimsy and unorganized to bring freedom to the nation. Alice and its cheshire cat identifier fell before it could make its mark.

A district-born woman turned Capitolite led the charge against dictatorship using unity as a ruse, her own agenda fouler than anything the Snow administration could have dreamed of. One Panem dominated with an iron fist, but at what cost?

In the midst of Panem’s darkest days, yet another rebel force makes challenges against the Capitol. The Black Eagles seek to swoop in and dethrone the tyrant president and truly bring peace by ending the Games once and for all. The rebellion plays it smart and has operated through trusted individuals, the person behind it all anonymous until only recently. During the tribute parade of the 120th Games, Primrose Everdeen proudly revealed herself as the leader of the rebellion.

What is to come is unknown, but the greater question is, what part will you play in it all?

Applications are still being accepted for the 123rd Games, which have already begun. You can apply for tribute characters until November 18.

Applications for non-tribute characters are always open!

RULEANDKILL is an established roleplay group since December 2014. Applications are accepted daily!


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…I wanna see more horror / future / fantasy / dystopian movies with mid to full cast of folk that look like me. My favorite types of entertainment without having to focus in on the ONE sometimes Two if we’re lucky, cast member.

I think that’s why I enjoyed Lovecraft regardless of things reminding me of other things. Aside from some of the poetic insertions I’m likely to have not ever known of, on my own.


Currently re-watching The Hunger Games for the upteenth time - focusing on Lenny Kravitz small role as Cinna and Amandala as Rue while doin Cardio and thinking about what I wanna make for break-fast, afterwards 😂😩🤣



…and cause I loves me some Woody Harrelson aka Haymitch too, lol

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I think you’ll find that me writing whump of things that are canon and I’m just doing some kind of meta on them is kind of a common theme here. This is about as forced as you can get. I know these two are the Some Gremlins of the Hunger Games franchise but they’re MY some gremlins and Castor is NOT dead he’s gonna turn up again and steal Pollux’s wallet. Finnick isn’t dead either, NO ONE DIED

Also I’m just impressed by Elden Henson’s ability to cry in relative silence because I’m a traumatized little babie who has to violently sob into a pillow so that I don’t wake the neighbors. Actors, man.

A look at Castor and Pollux’s life after Pollux became an avox.

Warnings: mouth trauma, angst

Castor didn’t see his brother for an entire day. He was convinced Pollux was dead until he showed up the next morning—and didn’t speak.

Keep reading

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Please welcome Outfit #7: the Quarter Quell

What do we know about this outfit: “When we reach the Launch Room at the arena, I shower. Cinna braids my hair down my back and helps me dress over simple undergarments. This year’s tribute outfit is a fitted blue jumpsuit, made of very sheer material, that zippers up the front. A six-inch-wide padded belt covered in shiny purple plastic. A pair of nylon shoes with rubber soles. “What do you think?” I ask, holding the fabric out for Cinna to examine. He frowns as he rubs the thin stuff between his fingers. “I don’t know. It will offer little in the way of protection from cold or water.” “Sun?” I ask, picturing a burning sun over a barren desert. “Possibly. If it’s been treated,” he says. “Oh, I almost forgot this.” He takes my gold mockingjay pin from his pocket and fixes it to the jumpsuit. <…> I notice a gleam of gold on Peeta’s chest. I reach out and retrieve the disk that hangs from a chain around his neck. My mockingjay has been engraved on it. “Is this your token?” I ask. “Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match,” he says. <…> I unbuckle my belt and strip off my jumpsuit, which is little more than a perforated rag. My shoes and undergarments are inexplicably unaffected. <…> I rescue my mockingjay pin from my ruined jumpsuit and pin it to the strap of my undershirt. The flotation belt must be acid resistant, since it looks as good as new. I can swim, so the flotation belt’s not really necessary, but Brutus blocked my arrow with his, so I buckle it back on, thinking it might offer some protection. I undo my hair and comb it with my fingers, thinning it out considerably since the fog droplets damaged it. Then I braid back what’s left of it. <…> I plunk down on the sand next to Finnick and screw the lid off the tube. Inside is a thick, dark ointment with a pungent smell, a combination of tar and pine needles. I wrinkle my nose as I squeeze a glob of the medicine onto my palm and begin to massage it into my leg. A sound of pleasure slips out of my mouth as the stuff eradicates my itching. It also stains my scabby skin a ghastly gray-green. As I start on the second leg I toss the tube to Finnick, who eyes me doubtfully. “It’s like you’re decomposing,” says Finnick. But I guess the itching wins out, because after a minute Finnick begins to treat his own skin, too. Really, the combination of the scabs and the ointment looks hideous. <…> We slather ourselves down, even taking turns rubbing the ointment into each other’s backs where the undershirts don’t protect our skin. <…> I check my weapons. Tie up the spile and the tube of medicine in the parachute and fix it to my belt with vine. + from THG: “When Caesar asks Peeta how his “new leg” is working out. “New leg?” I say, and I can’t help reaching out and pulling up the bottom of Peeta’s pants. “Oh, no,” I whisper, taking in the metal-and-plastic device that has replaced his flesh.


It’s rather funny how they practically spent all the Games wearing underwear 😅. Katniss didn’t seem very embarrassed so I think it’s cover enough (but still 😂). So it’s something very basic - strapped undershirt and shorts.

Hope you like it ❤️

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