capitol propaganda


She’d seen her share of tributes from district one in the arena.  They were charming, resourceful, cunning and ruthless.  She’d studied all the traits common to every last tribute in the past, gearing herself for the moment she might be reaped.  But nothing could prepare her for Draco Malfoy, the boy from district one- the boy who could not kill.  And absolutely nothing could have prepared her for herself- the girl who damn well could.

“I don’t understand,” his words come out in tatters, shaking along with the dagger in his hand.  Draco can’t do it, Hermione realizes, and it feels as though he is, in fact, stabbing her- gutting her, right between her ribs.  The kill shot.  “All my life, I was prepared for this.  I was prepared to kill.  I was born into a family of killers.”

She almost laughs from where she lies on the ground- partly from fatigue, pain, desperation; she hasn’t eaten all day and the forest floor is jabbing needles and self-hatred into her raw injuries.

“And I was born into a family of engineers, yet I know exactly how to end your life,” Hermione doesn’t mean it as a threat- just a matter of pure fact.  Her only real skill in the arena is her keen knowledge of absolutely everything, including human anatomy and psyche.  That and an iron-clad will to live.  Combine those two, and she could make Draco kill himself if she so wanted; but she’s tired, and she hates herself, and she doesn’t want to be this disposable piece of Capitol propaganda anymore.  “Doesn’t matter what you’re born into, it matters what you let yourself become.”

“Do you want to?  Become a killer?” Draco whispers, fear tearing his pupils wide open, exposing every vulnerable aspect of him to her; and she wonders if she’s prey or predator in this moment.  In reality, they’re just children.  Scared fucking witless and scarred beyond just the flesh wounds.

“I already am.”

+ the hunger games / dramione, requested by @bethylgrixon

The Apple & The Arrow|| Robin & Regina

The morning sunshine swept over the dense forest illuminating what it could and ushering in a new day. A day that no one wished to dawn for it was today that all eligible children had to report to the reaping for the 72nd Hunger Games. It’s a barbaric tradition upheld mainly because all of the non-career districts could not muster up a rebellion to put an end to the practice.

In a poorly constructed cabin an eighteen year old boy who had been practically surviving on his own since he was twelve was standing before his poor excuse for a mirror putting on the required bland clothing a piece at a time. His crystal blue eyes watching as each button was pushed through the hole up to his neck and when he was done he raked a hand through his short spiking blond hair.

He took a long last look at the cabin and made his way through the forest towards the small town. His name would be put into the drawing far too many times this year for he had no choice but to take from the stores. Not for himself for he could survive on his own but for others less fortunate than he. The elderly couple, the family of two little girls and their mum trying to get by without the father who had been killed in a lumber-jacking accident, and countless others. It was his last year perhaps he might be able to make it through, and continue to help people.

The children made the grave walk to the town square and waited in the lines to have their fingers pricked to check in, and then they filed into their lines waiting for the arrival of the speaker. The capitol propaganda film aired as the masses waited anxiously for what came next. They chose the girl first. A bright young thing that couldn’t have been more than twelve. She was absolutely terrified but managed to make it up to the stage by clutching her hands together tightly to keep her shaking down to a minimum.

They then turned to draw the name out of the large bowl of male candidates then returned to the mic opening the scrap of parchment paper. “Robin Locksley.” He closed his eyes briefly to clear his mind for it was better that he be selected than someone else’s brother or son for he had no one that would miss him. Robin made his way out of the crowd up to the stage feeling utterly numb inside as the speaker droned on about how they would have the honor of representing District 7 in the 72nd Annual Hunger Games. There was no honor to be found in this. Those that watched on from below saluted them out of respect and as a farewell.

“Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.”


Since the Dark Days, our great nation has known only peace. Ours is an elegant system, we seek to knowledge and protect.


Your districts are the body, the Capitol is the beating heart.


Your hard work feeds us, and in return we feed and protect you.


But if you resist the system you’ll starve yourself. If you fight against it, it is you who will bleed.

I know you will stand with me, with us, with all of us.

Panem today. Panem tomorrow. Panem forever.

Things That Are Not True About Annie Cresta:

  • She cries constantly. Okay, how many times did she cry in the book once? When she was reaped for the Quarter Quell? Which is understandable and hardly a sign that she’s “broken”?
  • She speaks in short child-like sentences. Commonly used in fic, this one. “Going back?” “Yes, Annie. I have to go back.” “Don’t want.” “I know. Neither do I.” (I cannot stress enough how creepy it is that people seem to like this kind of dynamic, even though it isn’t present in the books. It even appears in Odesta smut.) Annie is repeatedly shown to be well-spoken and intelligent, and communicates in full sentences for fuck’s sake.
  • She makes vague, semi-poetic, “profound” observations about people, especially their emotional/mental state. Really, there’s no difference between the way she and Finnick/Peeta/Katniss speak. This is that weird thing people do where they romanticize mental illness as giving you some magic insight into the world. 
  • She can barely function on a daily basis without Finnick there to hold her hand. There is literally nothing in the text to support this. Just more fandom grossness.
  • She gets “hysterical.” (Outside of being understandably upset at being reaped for the Quarter Quell there is not mention of Annie getting even close to “hysterical.”)
  • She was a defenseless little lamb being sent to slaughter when she was reaped. Oh God, see Things That Are True of Annie Cresta at the bottom.

Things That Are Possibly True About Annie Cresta (But Probably Aren’t):

  • She had to be taught how to swim by Finnick. Could she really have become such a good swimmer in such a short period of time? Would a daughter of 4 really not know how to swim when it’s said that the children of 4 learn to swim before they learn to walk?
  • She and Finnick were involved before the 70th Games. If this were true, it would make Annie’s reaping highly suspicious. I can’t believe that wouldn’t have come up in the books.

Things That Are Possibly Not True of Annie Cresta (But Probably Are):

  • She volunteered. She was a Career tribute, after all. But it’s entirely possible that she was chosen and because she was a Career and at least 17 years old no one saw a reason to volunteer in her place.

Things That Are True of Annie Cresta:

  • She is from a Career district and is a Career victor. She is described in the final book, I believe, as one of only two surviving Career victors (Enobaria being the other).
  • As a Career, she would have had training before becoming a tribute. Perhaps not on par with a tribute from 1 or 2, but certainly more than Katniss, Peeta, or Finnick (as she was older when she was reaped).
  • She did not fall apart when Finnick was not there. Whereas Finnick did fall apart when Annie wasn’t there. This isn’t a slam on Finnick. I don’t consider that a weakness. I think it really gets under people’s skin that a guy like Finnick - very physically capable, youngest winner ever, “flirtatious rogue” - would actually be the more emotionally expressive of the two. People are much more comfortable with the idea of Annie sobbing, clinging to Finnick while he whispers soothingly in her ear.
  • She has PTSD and is sometimes triggered. She either retreats into her mind, covers her ears with her hands, or occasionally laughs inexplicably. That is it. She is portrayed by Capitol propaganda as “crazy”/“mad” and that is how most people think of her at first (Katniss, Peeta). In fact, she is no more traumatized than most victors it’s just that her trauma manifests in more blatant ways. The others tend to try to hide it or self-medicate; she’s a very uncomfortable mirror/reminder, I expect.

The Capitol Ministry of Information would like to inform you that viewing this video is mandatory. Citizens must be made aware of road closures in the Capitol. Thank you for your cooperation.

Teasers, Trailers, TV Spots - Masterpost

In honor of the last movie, which will be released in 4 months and the release of the Mockingjay Part 2 theatrical trailer, we put together all official Teasers, Trailers and TV Spots (and, if known, the used music) from The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay Part 1 and Mockingjay Part 2.

We hope you like it and may the odds be ever in your favor.

UPDATE 11/16: 3 new TV Spots for Mj2 added

The Hunger Games (2012)



TV Spot “Trifecta" 


TV Spot “Four Weeks”

Used music:

Keep reading

I really keep wondering if people actually realize that these posters (which have been going around on tumblr for about a week now) are not fanart, but the actual marketing campaign of the film makers

I mean, if you look at them as fanart you… idk, I feel like you miss a really important aspect of them…

(And on another note: I’ve got a whole book on North Korean propaganda art, I’ve seen my share of both Soviet and Nazi propaganda art, and I have to tell you that whoever did those posters is a fucking genius and REALLY took a trick or two from old propaganda artists)