look i just have a lot of feelings ok

[lessthanelementary]

~THE CAPITOL BADFIC MEME~

~THE RULES~

-You are now in the in-game Hunger Games fandom, and you are just overwhelmed with feels. You need to take this to the Internet. You have to fictionalize everything that the Games have not delivered - every doomed romance, every thrilling adventure, every behind-the-scenes drama!!

-Trope up your faves! Write bizarre crack pairings and fandom's grossest misinterpretations; write Mary Sues and self-inserts; put in shitty author's notes and song lyrics; be the deepest, darkest part of the Hunger Games fandom. If you don't know a character? Whatever! Pretend you just read the first paragraph of the wiki and write a fic off that!

-You can do this one of two ways: Either post a prompt (i.e. "Signless/Guy Crood, romantic cannibalism; Enjolras, crying in the rain") or, if you're feeling inspired, just post a badfic straight up!

-Go anon if you'd like; write as some feels-ridden Capitolite or even as your own character; it's up to you!

~*~*~*HAVE FUN YO*~*~*

*comic sans is so encouraged.

 

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Prompt: Signless/Guy Crood, romantic cannibalism.

Particularly with emphasis on Signless' loving sacrifice, preferably with Guy keeping Signless alive as long as possible and cutting off various limbs. And if Signless dies pleeeease have Guy do his death ritual but make it special for him.

[(Anonymous)]

ahaha shit i'm claiming this one

CW: blood, dismembering, cannibalism, i am so sorry

[(Anonymous)]

This arena has been by far one of the worst ones the Signless has participated in. It's a sprawling factory with no exits, full of dangerous machines with no predictable schedule for when they're on or off. The winding, dank hallways are often blocked off by broken pipes spewing boiling hot steam, and the lower levels are full of vats of chemicals only able to be bypassed by rickety catwalks.

He's already got a badly-mangled, useless leg thanks to one of the other tributes pushing him into the gnashing teeth of one of the machines. If Guy hadn't pulled him out at the right moment it would have been much, much worse. By now he owes the caveman his life a thousand times over, because Guy insisted on staying with him, insisted on helping him walk, insisted on sharing what little rations he had. In this arena there is no safe water and no organic matter beyond poisonous mold. The vast majority of tributes have died of starvation or dehydration, if the intercom system is to be believed. It looks like they'll go the same way soon, too, because no sponsor gifts have come for either of them in over a week and the cornucopia has been picked clean already.

Then Signless has an idea. An awful, awful idea.

"No," is Guy's flat response from where he's huddled against the wall, trying to be close enough to the steam vent to be warm without being close enough to get his skin boiled off.

"I'm not using it," Signless points out. "It might be better for me to be rid of it, actually, before it gets infected."

Guy makes a face, but it's clear he's considering the suggestion. He nervously shifts the knife he got from the Cornucopia from one hand to the other. He's wild-eyed from hunger and every few seconds his eyes shift downward to Signless's mangled leg and the corner of his mouth twitches.

"Fffffine," he says finally. "But just so we don't die! Because if we don't have any energy we can't keep moving and if we don't keep moving something or someone is going to eventually kill us. Right."

"Right," Signless affirms and he's barely finished speaking before Guy is cutting away what's left of the leg of his worker's jumpsuit (black, for district twelve coal) and then starting in on his leg. Signless nearly shrieks because, fuck, it hurts, but it would be loud enough to alert everyone in the place to their hiding spot and they're in no condition for a chase. He grits his fangs instead and digs his nails into the palms of his hands hard enough to leave marks. Thankfully Guy is good with his knife and it's over far faster than it might have been otherwise.

They eat well for the first time in a long time, and when the intercom announces the day's deaths, they realize its down to less than ten remaining. It's then that Signless privately decides to take his death into his own hands and actually do some good this arena.

--

((AN this is part one of two oh my god i kept trying to make it terrible and it kept insisting on being somewhat passable you can all kick me out of the game now it's not like anyone doesn't know who this is))

CWs continue even though nothing actually happens in this bit

[(Anonymous)]

"We need to talk," Signless tells Guy when he gets back to camp after a day's scouting. He hasn't left since he lost his leg entirely, even though Guy offered to help him walk, because he knew he'd just be a liability. They have one blanket between them, again thanks to Guy's luck at the Cornucopia, and if they stuff the undershirts from their uniforms into the backpack it came in they even have a makeshift pillow.

"About what?" says Guy, settling in next to the blanket nest to clean his knife on the sleeve of his jumpsuit.

"About how few people are left. About who's going to win this arena. It can't be both of us, Guy--"

"I know." Guy looks down at his knife like it's personally wronged him. He's not pleased about the fact that one of them has to die eventually either, apparently.

With an effort, Signless reaches out a hand and sets it on Guy's knee. They bandaged his leg as best they could but he's still exhausted and hungry and he's lost a lot of blood; even doing small things like that is difficult for him right now.

"I think you should be the one to win. You shouldn't have to do this anymore. And I don't think there's anyone else here I'd want to be the one to kill me, either." He squeezes Guy's knee gently. "And you need to eat."

Guy very slowly puts down his knife, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. Then he wiggles his way under the blanket, pressing as close as he can because it's a blanket made for one person and since the steam pipes stopped working a day ago it's been uncomfortably cold at night. Or maybe he just needs comfort. Either way Signless wraps him up in his arms, nuzzles against his unruly hair.

"It'll be okay. It's not wrong of you if you have my permission."

Guy laughs, a kind of hollow hiccup-y laugh. "Yeah, I guess it wouldn't be. Can I think about it though? Kind of some heavy stuff we're dealing with here, after all. Death. Murder. Eating your friends. I need to maybe sleep on that."

"Shooosh," Signless murmurs. "Shoosh." He brushes his fingers against Guy's cheek, a sort-of pap, because he can't go too long as someone's friend without feeling pale toward them and Guy is no exception. If anyone needs emotional support right now, it's Guy Crood. It doesn't matter that this blanket and makeshift pillow aren't exactly a pile and Guy probably doesn't understand exactly the kind of romantic gesture he's the recipient of. If they both come back alive from the arena maybe Signless will explain.

"You sleep. It can wait until tomorrow."

The intercom tells them there's only six tributes left. The vats in the lower levels are flooding and left unchecked the chemicals will rise until the only safe level is the top floor. No matter what happens tomorrow, they'll have to move. Guy doesn't say anything, but neither of them manage to sleep. Signless spends the whole night stroking Guy's cheek and hair, and Guy doesn't make him stop.

--

((DID I SAY PART ONE OF TWO I MEANT TWO OF THREE, CONGRATULATIONS))

CWs continue + death

[(Anonymous)]

By the next morning Guy still isn't comfortable with the whole idea enough to carry it through to the end.

"Just an arm," he says, like that's a sensible compromise. "Just an arm for now because we need to keep our strength up, okay, and it'll re-balance you so you're not all lopsided and silly-looking." His laughter is uncomfortably high-pitched. Signless can't really blame him, he does his best to look understanding rather than unsettled.

This time he almost does scream, probably because the less energy he has the less easy it is to keep his composure, and Guy has to slam a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. Their eyes lock and he realizes with a sickening jolt that he is horribly, horribly pale for this stupid human. What else could explain the lengths to which he's proving he'll go just to keep Guy safe, to give him a chance at maybe surviving, maybe winning?

He wonders if he should tell him, while they're eating, and decides that maybe it's not exactly the perfect moment.

--

When the whistle blows the next morning to signal the start of the factory 'workday' and the intercom tells them that the chemical wave has risen two floors in the night, it becomes starkly apparent that there can be no more beating around the bush.

"It's moving faster than I can go," Signless says, trying to cross his arms authoritatively and failing because he only has one left. "You can't take me with you."

"I could carry you," Guy points out from where he's folding up the blanket and stuffing it in the backpack. He does it with perhaps a little more force than he needs to.

"You couldn't, not fast enough. Please. I'm going to die either way. You'll need all your strength if you're going to outlast the rest of them and I... I want it to be on my terms, at the hands of someone I care about. I wouldn't ask just anyone to do this."

He reaches out and very, very lightly pats Guy on the cheek, just once. Guy's mouth twists, but he sets down the backpack and scoots closer.

"So when trolls die, what do they do about the body?" he asks. Signless is about to be very cross with him for changing the subject when it dawns on him what this question means and he stops, considers.

"Usually they're just left to be eaten by foraging animals." Or to turn into zombies and haunt the daylight hours when all smart trolls are indoors asleep, but he's pretty sure that won't happen here.

This time when Guy laughs it's actually genuine, and it takes a full minute for him to calm down enough that Signless can get him to explain why.

"All this time... you just wanted me to give you a proper burial."

This time is the easiest. Guy handles his knife with the skill of someone who's done this a thousand times, because he has, to creatures with much more dangerous horns and fangs. Signless is too exhausted by this point to make much noise. It would be almost difficult to tell exactly when he dies except that the factory siren blares briefly instead of the usual cannon shot when it happens.

Guy has a feast in his honor.

--

((THERE WE GO ITS DONE I CAN SLEEP KNOWING I'M THE ACTUAL WORST))