The whole word stops for a second, and then, without a warning, lurches you forward, forcing you to keep up with the jump it has made, as if it's your fault that it had decided to completely fuck up for a second and make you look like a mentally challenged idiot in front of the entire Panem.
You walk forward, stumbling over your feet for a bit, before pushing your chin up and climbing up the stage. Everyone is quiet- everyone always is- and the little Asian lady on the stage turns to you and smiles, teeth to white, lips too red, the silence surrounding you too fucking loud.
Your name is Karkat Vantas. You are sixteen years old. You've been on your own for the last eleven years, even though your brother has kept you well provided in food and clothes and electronics and everything one might need, except for the human contact, but you managed that on your own- thank God for your charming bubbly personality, Jegus fuck- and now, and now;
You are a tribute in the 420th Hunger Games.
You recognise the girl to your right- Aradia Medigo, very nice, despite being somewhat off- and the fact that you have spent a good portion of time talking to her only makes this whole ordeal worse. You opt to stare straight ahead, jaw clenched, shoulders tense, knowing that, if you look angry enough, no one will be able to tell how mind-numbingly scared you actually feel.
This fucking blows.
You are no stranger to the Hunger Games. You've been watching them for as long as you can remembered- it is somewhat of a citizen duty, watching the fucking morbidity the Games are- at first with Kankri at your side ("If you find this too triggering I could always mute the sound-" "Oh my god shut up"), sticking with Aradia once he got reaped himself.
Heads up, this is not a tragic back story. Kankri won. He now lives in the Capitol and has some sort of on and off polygamous thing with the Captor senior. You got a new, fancy house, and a decade of immunity from the games- the decade that has just passed, if someone has trouble keeping up- and some fucking silence, for a change.
You don't miss him. At all. And you are especially not looking forward to seeing him now.
So instead, you stare on, as the Asian lady goes on about the history of Panem and how honoured the pair of you should feel. You mentally give a snarky reply to each of her statements, burning hatred rising in your gut, suddenly aimed at everything and everyone- Kankri, even though he's done nothing wrong, Aradia, for not looking even slightly upset, the Handmaid- the Asian fuck- for not shutting up god damnit who does she think she is, even bloody Katniss Everdeen for fucking shit up all those centuries ago and not fucking it up properly.
You see, ages ago- it were, like, what, the 74th annual Hunger Games?- Katniss Everdeen volunteered to save her little sister. She managed not only to win, but to also save her district partner, and then kept on fucking with the current president and triggered a fucking revolution.
That failed.
Obviously.
It destroyed half of the districts- Twelve, Nine, Seven, Six, Five and Three no longer existed- and made all thoughts of any further uprisings fly out of the window. District Thirteen was now officially Capitol's bitch, and District One was officially their new bestest friend- they no longer had to send in tributes, fucking figure.
Also, nobody volunteered. Ever. (Well, district Four did- but only because its' population was almost strictly high blood royals and they couldn't exactly be made to compete so they'd kidnap some low bloods from other Districts and make them volunteer in the said high blood's place, but that hardly counted- if the Capitol was behind it, it wasn't exactly rebellious behaviour.)
Oh, also, the Radiation.
Nobody noticed a thing until the 85th hunger games, when one of the tributes started bleeding motherfucking purple. Everyone freaked out, but in time, the Capitol decided that, yeah, this was pretty cool- because, now not only were they fucking otherworldly on the outside, their blood also looked like the goddamn rainbow. It took them five more years to decide that the new blood colour also had a great effect on how much the person was worth- and that was when the High bloods and Low bloods first appeared.
You are not a High Blood. What a goddamn plot twist.
The pink and purple blood was considered royal- and nobody touched the royals, alright. Then, they grew quite fond of blue, deciding that it made people very strong and shit- you doubted it had more to do with the life long training the said people received, but who are you to say anything- and the Green-bloods were bred, raised and buried in the lap of luxury.
Red blood was considered human. Human was considered bed.
You have red blood. This story is a goddamn roller-coaster ride.
Then, more things happened. Horns, for starters. Well, to be honest, they were more like head-nipples, but nobody was overly comfortable with admitting their sub-erotic potential, so the Panem just went with Horns- now everyone had Horns, and then, next thing you know, you can't walk in the sun, and your skin goes grey, and here we are now, a bunch of rainbow-coloured grey creatures with nipples growing out of your skull in all sort of goddamn shapes and you are going to die in a couple of days FUCK.
A shiver runs up your spine. You push it back, and stare forward.
Well, not everyone was grey. District thirteen locked themselves away, and even though they couldn't evade the Capitol, they managed to skip out on all the effects, and were now the most human like of them all.
And humans are bad.
It takes you a moment to realise the Handmaid has stopped talking. Your eyes flash to the side, and Aradia gives you a shaky grin. Snapping out of your train of thoughts, you turn around to face her, and accept her offered hand. Her palm is as sweaty as yours, even though her face is the definition of tranquillity. You shake hands, and the district applauds, and then you are being led away.
The room they left you in is richly decorated and smells of cleaning substances. You take a seat on the felt chair and wait for any possible visitors.
Nobody comes. Aradia was your only friend in this District, it was to be expected.
You meet up with Aradia in what feels like an eternity and a millisecond in the same time. Her eyes are puffed, and the little make up she tends to wear is smudged. You stop her before exiting the palace, dabbing it away, until all evidence of her minor breakdown are gone. She gives you a shaky smile.
"Move on, move on!" The Asian lady yells. She struts in front of you, and you have no choice but to follow. The cameras flash as you show your faces, and you do your best at ignoring them, while Aradia gives them little smiles every now and then.
You let her enter the train first, and then climb up yourself, and there is a second of relief as the doors close, just before Kankri shows up and you are on the edge again.
"Aradia, Karkat." He looks upset, and you are mildly taken aback. "I am sorry about what happened to you."
You share a look with Aradia. You both know that replying would be futile. He rarely stops to listen.
"I want you to fully understand that, despite my relation to Karkat, I will treat you both objectively and without any personal preference." You study him as he talks- he is somewhat taller, not as scrawny as he used to be, his hair is neatly cut and his clothes looks fairly expensive. No one could mistake him for a district Twelve citizen any more. "Now, this statement might cause you doubt and it is understandable, and it is my experience that trust takes notable time to build, so I will not be forcing any of it on you just yet. I do hope, however, that you will be as open with me as I am with you, seeing as it is our mutual objective to get at least one of you out of the Games victorious." He still doesn't need to breathe, apparently. "It is also my duty to inform you that your personal beliefs and moral stands do not matter in the Capitol, so it would be well if you would state your personal triggers here and now, as to give me time to think of a way to ease you through all the uncomfortable experiences gently and with caution." You sigh. He ignores you.
"You are aware, I hope, of the massive amount of murders you will be required to commit." Aradia now sighs. You start to zone out. "It is emotionally straining and will cause you notable amount of trauma, but I assure you, once a victor, it will not be hard to find a moirail that will help you deal with any quilt-ridden nightmares you might have?"
Ah, moirails. The new sort of romance categorisation developed somewhere around the 150th hunger games, and you must admit you've spent more than some time looking into different possibilities it has to offer.
"Moirails, uh?" You cock an eyebrow, voice loud enough to cut off his blabbering. "So that's what's going on with you and Mituna?"
You feel much more pleasure than necessary when he paused for a second, completely off track, before making a quick, blushing recovery.
"Poking your nose into other people's quadrants is hardly proper behaviour, furthermore, many would consider it rude and will score you very little sponsors, if any at all." He goes on, eyes focused on the ground. "Ones romantic escapades are a thing a person should be allowed to share themselves, when they feel ready to. Using it to trigger a reaction is most rude and I will not tolerate it." He glares at you. "I wholeheartedly wish you would think back on your actions and use your new-founded epiphanies to work on your notorious personality, Karkat."
Aradia whistles. You groan.
"You're right, I need to rethink my entire fucking life, look at this goddamn epiphany, I am an asshole, was I always an asshole, Aradia help me out." You turn to look at her and grip her forearms. She gives you a small smile and pats your head.
"You were always an asshole."
Kankri is not impressed.
"Is this emotionally straining experience enough to make you let us off the hook, or do I need to make a fucking roll on the floor, 'my life is a lie, Aradia I need a CPR'?" You ask him. He takes in a deep breath, and you realise with a start he is not nowhere near finished.
You drop down on the floor. "Aradia-"
"I'm out." She says, shoving past Kankri. You follow her lead.
***triggerwarning***
Your name is now Dave Strider, and you are well-fucked.
Not in a good way. Nowhere near the good way. You fucked up so breath-takingly you sort of expect Katniss Everdeen to float down from the sky, in her fully fiery glory, and high five you into oblivion.
Boy, you fucked up.
The day started normal enough. You got up, had some AJ, pulled on your sweet new felt suit, and went out to help calm Egbert down- you found out soon enough that keeping other people calm down is equally calming for you, and you were in dire need for some calming- because it was the Reaping day and even though your brother took the victory last year and you had a full-on immunity for another decade, your best bro's name was still in the bowl, and so was Rose's, and Jade's, and yeah pretty much everyone you know was in danger of being shipped of to their death.
So you pulled on your shades, walked over to Egbert's house, helped him dress up, convinced him he looks presentable, made him watch some Nic Cage movies because if anything was going to bring him peace it was the prehistoric talentless piece of ripped-muscle. Then Rose and Jade came over, both all dolled up, and you all watched the stupid movie, and then, a long, emotional group hug later, you were on your way to the main square.
Being cycle Thirteen, and not affected by the radiation, you could still handle sunlight, and seeing as you're all little shits you've decided to host your Reaping there, forcing the Capitol officials to wear heavy armour and special cameras, making the whole ordeal difficult for both sides.
Man, you love your district.
You gave out a small cackle as Roxy came out- she won some sort of Capitol scolarship around the time Rose was born and was now a full-on citizen, in charge of handling District 13. The Capitol loved her- she was very pretty, always slightly drunk, and very affectionate. Your Bro, Dirk Strider, was pretty tight with her too, and he basically raised her younger sister as well as you- despite having no actual genetic connections with Rose, you thought of her as your younger sister.
God, if she gets reaped...
You watched as Roxy stumbles over to the box, pulls out the paper, watch her face pale and the name fall out of her shaking hands, watch as one of the official comes over and picks it up, and reads it himself, and even though you had it coming, it stills makes your knees almost give out.
"Rose LaLonde!"
Roxy presses her palms to her mouth and shakes her head furiously, and you stare at the stage as Rose climbs up, unnaturally tranquil. She places a calming hand on her sister's shoulder and turns to face the district, small smile on her face.
"Read the other name." She whispers to Roxy before taking her place. Roxy nods, still shaking, and goes to do as she was told, small sobs wrecking her thin frame.
She pulls out the paper, and you can see from her face more bad news are about to come.
"John Egbert!"
You can hear John Gasp by your side, and it is then that you feel your body move, and you shove Egbert back, making your way up to the stage. All eyes are on you- they know you're not Egbert, damn it, your brother just won last year, everyone can recognise goddamn Dave Strider, the furiously interviewed younger brother. You climb up the stage, and Roxy is staring, and Rose seems somewhat taken aback, but you ignore them both and make your way up to the microphone.
Egbert meets your gaze. He is pale, unnaturally so, and it is what pushes you the one last step.
"I volunteer."
**oo**
Yeah. You fucked up.
Nobody volunteers. Nobody. Especially not victor's younger brothers. What you just did was awfully stupid and you fucked up and you'd do it again a million times because now you can save Rose as well as Egbert-
But Dirk is going to kill you.
John tells you that as he hugs you goodbye, tears drenching your felt suit.
"Egbert. No." You groan, trying to get out of the bone-crushing hug. "Dude, you're so gay."
"Shut up." John sobs. "This is all my fault."
"Dude." You groan again, but stop fighting him. "It's not."
"It is!" He insists, in this sad, sad, high pitched voice, as he keeps on crying onto your shoulder. "It was supposed to be me!"
"I have better chances than you and we both know it." You say, fighting to keep your cool. If you start crying now, you won't be able to stop, and there's no way in hell you're letting the Capitol see Dave Strider cry. "You didn't ask for you name to be pulled out. I made my own choice."
"But-" Whatever he was about to say is cut off by the guard pulling the doors open.
"Time's up."
John sobs once again, and you return the hug, patting his back.
"Egbert, go." You push him away slightly. He stumbles. "Go, find Jane, stick together, okay?"
"I don't want to lose you nor Rose." He whispers. You shove him towards the doors.
"I know."
Jade is up next, and she is already crying, and she latches on you and cries into your shoulder, the same one John already soaked through, and all you can do is rub her back and whisper some stupid promises you know you can't keep. She is led away soon too, and you are left alone for a couple of seconds, pulling your Strider mask back on.
Rose is waiting in the hallway. Her shoulder is wet with tears as well, but you both have your best poker faces on, and you grab her hand before exiting. District Twelve is gone, you might as well keep on the tradition of being little shits and showing unnecessary inter-tribute affection.
You both ignore the cameras as you walk for the train, and the moment the doors close behind you, you are being pushed against the wall.
"What. The fuck." Bro's breath is hot, and you can't really breathe because he is much taller and is holding the front on your shirt and forcing you to stand on your tiptoes and the wall is really not the most comfortable thing to be shoved against, but you force down the whines, because damn it, you deserve it.
"What the fuck did you do."
It is not a question, despite being phrased like one, so you just stare up, breathing steady.
"I won. I won for both of us." He goes on. He sounds angry, his fists are shaking, and something in his voice makes you realise he is fighting back tears. "You were supposed to be safe for good."
"I know."
"Then why" He shoves you harder, and you bang your head pretty well. "The fuck" Again. "Did you volunteer?!"
"John is my friend." You manage to breathe out, because there is not enough air in your lungs for you to talk any more.
"And you are my brother!" He yells before taking a step back. "For fuck's sake, Dave."
You rub at your throat, taking in deep, steady breaths.
"He'd have died." You mumble.
Dirk looks like he's fighting back the impulse to hit you. "Are you fucking him or what?"
You groan.
"John would have died, and it would have been horrible, but we could have Rose as a winner, and then you'd both be safe for good- was standing back so fucking hard?" He stares at you. You stare back.
"He's my friend."
"And you're my brother!" He yells again. "Before, there was a chance of me losing one of my siblings, now I might as well lose both-" He stops. "Do you have any fucking idea how relieved I was when you weren't called out?"
You stare down, suddenly feeling guilty.
"And what do you do?" He grits his teeth. "You volunteer."
You can't make yourself look up.
"The Capitol now hates you. Good job." His voice is acid. "They'll make sure you die in there. They might kill Rose too. They might blow our entire district up, for all I know- nobody volunteers!"
Your eyes snap back up. "I couldn't let him die."
Dirk clenches his fist. It's then that Rose jumps in.
"Calm down, both of you." Her voice is collected as ever. "We are both very upset, and Dave did fuck up marginally, but what is done cannot be undone." She gives you both a stern look. "While I am all for talking our problems out, I believe discussing the Games would be a wiser move right now."
There's a moment of silence, and then you both sigh.
"You two, go get cleaned up. We'll talk over the dinner." He says. "I'm going to find Roxy."
***ohoh***
Your name is Sollux Captor, and the person you're pretty sure you're in love with just got reaped for the 420th hunger games.
You stare at Terezi's grinning form- she's not the stated love interest, just in case you thought so- and groan. Having this semi-psychic powers sucks at times.
It takes you a moment to register why everyone is staring at you- your name just got called out, bloody brilliant- and you are not even surprised any more, because, honestly, this day went to shit long time ago and nothing is to be unexpected.
You walk up, climb up the stairs, and shake Terezi's hand- the crowd is awkwardly quiet all the time, because Terezi is blind and your brother runs the internet- before being led away.
The walk down to the train is a real pain. Terezi keeps cackling, hand wrapped around your forearm, and you respect her decision to fake being completely helpless. She's been blind for a decade now, and is probably a better fighter than half of the district.
Once in the train, Tavros Nitram greets you. He is barely older than you, and bound to the wheelchair. He won four years ago, at the age of merely twelve, and to say he got lucky would be an understatement. A fellow tribute left him beaten down and paralysed, figuring he'd die on his own soon enough, but Tavros managed to pull himself into the bushes and to use the poisonous berries growing all around him to turn his set of arrows into deadly contraption. The sponsors took liking of him them and kept sending him food, until finally, he was gifted with a wonderful air rifle, which he used to kill off the final three tributes. The word was the murders still haunted him, and he was not seen in the outside world very often- Sollux could see the dark circles around his eyes and the small blush in his cheeks. He was obviously not too thrilled about the whole thing either.
"Uh, hi." He mutters.
"Hello." Terezi's voice is as loud as ever, and the small victor flinches. You nod at him.
"Um, so, the rooms are that way." He gestures down the hallway. "The dinner is in an hour."
You nod again. Terezi chuckles.
"Sollux, be a sweetheart and tell me where I'm to go." Her head is on your shoulder. "Poor blind girl doesn't really get the gesturing."
Tavros blushes. You groan.
This day is shit.
***ooo***
At least the food is good.
You make your way through the dishes of hot, creamy soup, roasted steaks, small baby potatoes mixed with something green and vegetable-y, and two slices of chocolate-cheese cake, and quite honestly regret it afterwards. Your fellow tribute still manages to outdo you, licking the plates clean, grin not slipping off his face.
"This food." He leans back, eyes semi-closed. "It's a motherfucking miracle."
You eye him warily. Jake seems to feel the same.
Your name is Jane Crocker, and you've just been reaped for the 420th Hunger Games.
And it sucks.
You're from the district Eight- the only district where the humans and the grey-humans (trolls? Some people call them trolls) co-exist- and your district partner happens to be over six feet tall, high-blooded stoner clown.
Brilliant.
You're not sure why he's here. He should have stuck to district one, god knows he's high enough (heh heh) to fit in there, and then he'd never have to worry about the Games- but it seems to you he doesn't do much worrying either way. You, on the other hand…
Jake places a hand on yours- he always had a way of sensing your nervousness- and you blush. This damn stupid crush has been eating you from the inside for years now, but is seriously not the current priority- you are a goddamn tribute, and Jake is your mentor, and if you survive you can think about cuddling and kissing and babies and all the other things.
Jake English won the games five years ago- he is now nineteen, and as dreamy as ever. His hair is dark and black and a bit messy, his eyes green, his glasses squared and thick-framed. You find yourself blushing, and furiously look away.
"I'm sorry." He whispers. You nod. Being eighteen, this was the last year you had to worry about the games. Figures you'd get reaped.
"Worry not, motherfucker." Your district partner- Gamzee Makara- almost purrs. "It's all going to be motherfucking o-kay."
Jake's grin is a bit awkward. "So, how about we watch the Reapings, then?"
You take your seats on the couch- Gamzee in his own chair, you latching to Jake's side. They show district 1 first- not sure why, they don't have tributes- and the blonde-haired woman with unnatural smile wishes the other districts all the luck. District two is next- the grinning girl with an eye patch and a prosthetics, and a ripped, long haired male. Vriska Serket and Equius Zahhak.
District three doesn't exist. There is the same footage of the charred place, just to remind you all what will happen if you even think about complaining.
District four is always fun- watching the frail looking, shaky Lowbloods walk up to the stage in place of the colourful royalty. The first name called is Feferi Peixes, and just as the small, shaky girl gets up to her feet, there is a commotion in the back. Both you and Jake stare, mouth agape, as the incredibly pretty girl, with long dark hair and bright pink dress, walks up to the stage and takes her place. The man pulling out the names- Eridan Ampora- whispers something to her, but she efficiently shushes him with one swift hand motion. The next name is called, and this Low blood looks around in hope, but it's obvious no one is coming to his rescue. With a small sob, he takes his place next to the princess.
Gamzee whistles.
"That girl has motherfucking courage." He giggles. "Motherfucking courage, I'm telling ya."
You ignore him, nervously biting on your lower lip.
Footage of more ruined districts, and then there's you, walking up to the stage, in your pretty red dress bought especially for the Reaping. You are visibly shaken, and you're suddenly very angry with your past self.
Gamzee struts to the stage without a second glance, and stands next to you, distant smile on his creepy, painted face. You shiver again.
District nine doesn't exist either. But then it's District Ten, and the female's name is Terezi Pyrope, and you suck in a breath when you realise holy shit she can't see. Gamzee lets out a growl.
"That girl." He growls. "That girl is trouble."
You and Jake opt to keep quiet. The other tribute's name is Sollux Captor, and Jake groans.
"I know his brother." He mutters.
"Isn't Captor the one who-"
Jake nods. You press your lips together, leaning back. Captor is an influential name. Your odds just stooped to non-existence.
District Eleven is up next, and the female tribute- Aradia Medigo- is incredibly gorgeous and incredibly unsettling in the same time. Her partner is an angry looking boy called Karkat Vantas- the name sounds familiar, and you give Jake a questioning glance.
"His brother won eleven years ago." He mutters. You nod.
"Look at the cute little motherfucker." Gamzee giggles. "He's so vantastic."
The pun is purely disturbing and you decide to ignore the clown further.
District Thirteen is the last one to be shown- there is something comforting about seeing so many people.
The girl's name is Rose Lalonde- Jake explains that the Reaping Lady is her older sister, and you feel very sad, because the situation is horrible and nobody should be going through this. The boy's name is John Egbert and he looks so much like Jake you want to give him a hug, when he's pulled away by a taller, blonde guy, who walks up to the stage and-
"Wow." Is all Gamzee has to say. Jake stares at the screen, face pallid.
"That's Dirk's little brother." He mutters. You look up.
"Who's Dirk-" It downs on you. "Dirk Strider?!"
Jake nodds. You stare back at the screen. Little Strider stares straight ahead, ignoring the scandalised whispering.
It is then that the broadcast is cut off. Jake excuses himself, and you feel like throwing up so you take his lead. Gamzee seems content where he is, so you leave him be.
*A/N* HI! I got into Homestuck and I'm in love with this type of a crossover so I'm going to do it. The idea of afailed revolution was stolen from another fic that I can't find any more, but everything else that might clash with other fics is pure coincidence I swear.
This is also very long. I am happy.
Should I continue? Please do tell. All reviewers will get a Strider in a box. You get to choose which one. But the whole timeline thing is really messed up so I can't be sure when it'll arrive.
-BBT