now that the hunger games is once again getting popular, it’s all over my fyp on tiktok.
i literally hate the “we’re the capitol” and “suzanne only writes when she has something to say” and “we shouldn’t be getting another hunger games book” blah blah blah
just shut up and enjoy the series. my god. you’re not “part of the capitol” for wanting another BOOK in a POPULAR book series. it’s the hunger games. it’s a fascinating dystopian society. you’re allowed to be curious on how it works. and other POV’s of how other characters perceive it and their personal experiences.
and the suzanne thing is fucking stupid too. she’s allowed to write regardless of “having something to say”. that’s not required. she can have ideas later on down the line and add onto her series. esp now that her original audience has gotten older and matured enough to see the real horror that’s IN that original dystopian trilogy. we can now handle other perspectives like Coriolanus, and enjoy the way he thinks without boiling it all down to “i hate him because he’s the obviously the bad guy”
i feel like people need to enjoy things and stop being so english teacher mode. relax.
also PS. this is not to say that you can’t read into things but you have to remember it’s not that serious. it’s REALLY not that serious.
absolutely ITCHING to write some everlark
you were coriolanus snow’s rosebud.
a head of styled and silk soft, golden locks, and eyes so icy blue that they contrast the heat that flushes the two of you as you gasp — pant — for air in a secluded hall of the academy. his pupils dart between yours with a subtle knit of his brows, so blown and full of need that you feel a second, more intense blush creeping up your neck.
could this really be the academy’s star senior? the most diligent student they could offer? skipping a lecture because his yearning is stronger than his desire to learn? those questions are rhetorical, of course, as all three were answered with a simple tug of your sleeve on your way to class, urging you to follow him wordlessly.
“what’s gotten into you, coryo? miss me too much?” you say, lightheartedly. his tense expression never falters, instead offering a twitch of his eye as he takes a short breather. he has a hand sprawled across the fabric of your uniform, holding you close by the small of your back, pushing you up against him, and another cupping your cheek.
coriolanus was emotionally complex. his conditioned way of thinking sadly did not get along with his feelings. he had a compulsive need to control, control, control, and you knew that. he struggled to not let anything slip through the cracks, but hid that behind the facade of a social chameleon.
the blond in front of you, however, was not the coriolanus people were accustomed to. so overcome with hastiness that he was borderline shaking.
“just… just need you… need you and nothing else. tell me you need me too. say it.” coriolanus whispers, demands, and you think for a second that it might be so others meandering through the halls don’t hear, but doubt that, judging by the way his fingers are digging into your skin and the urgency in his eyes. you take a moment to process his request, and nod your head briskly.
you admire the way a curl falls over his temple, so perfectly marigold and twisted, the way his irises look almost crystal-like and so clear that you can see yourself distinctly in the reflection. his lips, pretty and plump, like a meticulously cared for peony that you oh so dared to pluck.
“say it.” so lost in thoughts of admiration, you’re almost startled by the hoarseness of his voice. his tone is imposing, but the pleading pinch of his eyebrows begged and begged for your answer, afraid it might hear different.
“i need you, coriolanus. nothing else.” immediately, the blond’s features soften, wrinkles formed on his forehead finally smoothing over. you don’t question him in moments like this; he’s just in need of grounding every once in a while. the thumb placed on your cheekbone begins to caress you, and he rushes to your lips. hungry. needy. almost as if trying to devour you to keep you all to himself.
class can wait, you decide.
coriolanus snow loves in a way that is cannibalistic. it’s primal. violent. consumed by the need to devour you. he loves in a way that has him bare his teeth in perpetuity, content only when he knows he has swallowed you whole. some of it is ugly, obscene, and bestial, some of it is pure and holy and spiritual: all of it is himself.
the blonde convinces himself it’s for good. to protect you. to keep you safe. but when does protection cross the line to become control? to trap you. to keep you for himself. to know that you may never get away from all that is him, as he slowly makes you part of his own self, so much so that you begin losing your identity and your flesh knits with his.
he wants to eat you.
and the closest he can get to that is to graze his teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart. he wraps his hand around your throat, controls your breathing as he pleases. the knowledge that only he can grant you mercy. only he can give you life, or take it away. and you both know he would never choose the latter, as to consume you would mean that your being is tied with his, and wherever you go he will be forced to follow.
it’s mutual and untamed, self destructive yet passionate. the two of you clawing and biting to feel each other. a competition that dictates who swallows up who. it’s hunger that will never be satisfied, and god knows he’s no stranger to that.
as though your name is wrapped around his ribs, melting and flowing through his veins. your bones intertwined, waiting to see who will gnaw at whose heart first. there’s something dark and sinister about it, but isn’t that what devotion inevitably becomes? two lovers so feral that they seek to destroy each other.
“i cannot part with you.” he whispers, “I am you.”
and you have no choice but to be of one another for life.
rest in peace legend. thank you for giving us such an amazing performance as president snow. 🕊️
What about a Finnick Odair / Reader in a modern world where there’s no hunger games. What do you think they’re dynamic would be like
you take your eyes off the water, only to be met with the same blue, crashing and pulling in his eyes. the tanned skin around the corners of the distinct aquamarine hue crinkles as a result of his toothy grin, and he holds up a porcelain white conch to your ear, beckoning you to listen to the idle chatters of the sea. you laugh and comply, leaning into it to immerse yourself in the sound.
you could only describe finnick as whimsical in moments like these.
after an afternoon of surfing (or ‘taming the waters’ as he likes to call it), he prefers to end your day at the beach in a way he knows would get a laugh out of you in order to end it perfectly. because that’s what his perfect day consists of; you, and the sea.
you try to focus on the conch pressed up to your ear, but the way the setting sun shines on him is so magnificent, it’s almost cinematic. his hair is messy and coarse from the saltwater, and so prettily hangs along his forehead. a piercing dangles from his right ear, the gold pleated material complimenting the matching skin it’s against so well, differentiated only by the meticulously arranged freckles adorning him.
you continue to stare into his eyes as your body currently believed that sight is more important than sound, and each inch of him you admire leads you to believe he must’ve been a merman in a past life. maybe this one, too. he’s full of surprises.
finnick pulls the conch back and slightly raises an eyebrow, smile never faltering, taking you in just as much as you’ve been very obviously doing to him.
“so? amazing, right?” he asks, bringing his other hand out to tuck a sandy strand behind your ear, letting it linger.
you take a second to respond, still so entranced and too in love, completely blanking on the fact that his question was directed towards the songs of the water that he wanted to share, and not himself.
“beautiful… so, so beautiful.”
finnick chortles at your answer and proceeds to do what he does best, diving in to plant an energetic, yet soft kiss on your lips.
“come on, ariel.” you say as you break the kiss a few seconds in. “we’ve got to meet johanna for ice cream in an hour. race you home?”
political science major!coriolanus, whose idea of a night of unwinding is reading a chapter of machiavelli’s ‘the prince’ with a glass of pinot noir in hand. well versed in debate, often dramatically pulling out notecards with bullet points on them as you argue over where to have dinner.
nursing major!sejanus, who is well liked and trusted amongst his peers and professors, being known for a tenderness that you can only find in bob ross painting demonstrations. you help him study by quizzing him until dawn, a kiss for every correct answer energizing him more than any red bull could.
music performance major!lucy gray, always carrying around a honey burst colored guitar, her fingers absentmindedly strumming the air as she walks. she refers to you as her muse, and soothes you to sleep on rough nights with a hushed lullaby specifically written with confessions of love whittled between lyrics.
fashion design major!tigris, who fills out sketchbooks and sketchbooks with extravagant designs she someday hopes will hit the runway. she has appointed herself as your personal stylist, and kisses your temple as she gets your measurements for custom-made pieces.
the moon in paintings. x
botany major!katniss, who isn’t so good with her words, so she gifts you flowers that correlate with what she’s feeling. you walk hand in hand through the woods as she points out different plants, rambling on about how to recognize various species and their distribution patterns.
fine arts major!peeta, working tirelessly at his family’s bakery, making personalized latte art which leaves him with huge tips at the end of the day. all of his peers recognize you as the inspiration for all of his assignments, your features taking up every bit of his sketchbook.
mechanical engineering major!gale, his schedule so full and busy but always making time to see you daily. you’re always the first to hear about how he did on a particular exam, cuddled up as you watch nature documentaries.
aquatic biology major!finnick, known around campus as the university heartthrob. he spends most of his free time at the docks or the beach, feet always bare and buried underwater, occasionally splashing you playfully. suntanning and writing your initials in the sand is how your dates usually go.
athletic training major!johanna, who caresses your sleeping features and plants a small kiss on your forehead before leaving for her morning run. she teasingly flexes her muscles while you’re applying kinesiology tape on her body.
also in my vision, finnick minors in public and social services in his second year+
botany major!katniss, who isn’t so good with her words, so she gifts you flowers that correlate with what she’s feeling. you walk hand in hand through the woods as she points out different plants, rambling on about how to recognize various species and their distribution patterns.
fine arts major!peeta, working tirelessly at his family’s bakery, making personalized latte art which leaves him with huge tips at the end of the day. all of his peers recognize you as the inspiration for all of his assignments, your features taking up every bit of his sketchbook.
mechanical engineering major!gale, his schedule so full and busy but always making time to see you daily. you’re always the first to hear about how he did on a particular exam, cuddled up as you watch nature documentaries.
aquatic biology major!finnick, known around campus as the university heartthrob. he spends most of his free time at the docks or the beach, feet always bare and buried underwater, occasionally splashing you playfully. suntanning and writing your initials in the sand is how your dates usually go.
athletic training major!johanna, who caresses your sleeping features and plants a small kiss on your forehead before leaving for her morning run. she teasingly flexes her muscles while you’re applying kinesiology tape on her body.