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Hunger Games - Blog Posts
this is terrible....lol
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I am Mohammed, I live in the northern besieged Gaza Strip, I am 21 years old, I have always tried to create a beautiful future for myself in which I achieve all my wishes. I had ambitions and dreams, but they evaporated because of the war, but I still want to achieve them despite the siege. During the war, I lost many things, including my university, my dreams, my job, and some friends. Despite that, I still want to achieve my dreams and ambitions. I want to rebuild my life again, so please help me in that and rebuild my life. Therefore,
please donate as much as you can because that helps me a lot. If you cannot donate, tell people about my suffering.
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
At first while reading this all I could think was what happened to Snow? He seemed so compassionate. But as things progressed his thought process just bothered me. I felt like the story didn't do Lucy Gray justice and that this didn't provide much of a necessary back story to the original books other than offering a few things you recognized in the originals.
I have no idea how old your book rant post is, but here I am, about to be your problem
I HATED THE SUNBEARER TRIALS
Yeah, okay cool, it’s a book with a trans author and trans main character. EVERYTHING ELSE WAS TRASH
It starts off great, with the MC graffitiing (spelling???) a wall with two birds and then he never does anything interesting again in favor of pining over/think about/hate a guy from his childhood that was mean to him once ten years ago. Before you go thinking the MC’s hatred of him is justified, just know all that is because the guy pulled a mean girls and said YOU CANT SIT WITH US a literal decade ago.
His best friend is a part of a group he hates, but it’s okay because she’s one of the good ones
And now: The cardinal sin
THIS BOOK IS MARKETED AS PERCY JACKSON MEETS THE HUNGER GAMES YET HAS NO CHARACTER DEATHS AT ALL AND SAYS **** IN THE FIRST LINE
WHO IS THIS FOR????????
I adore Hunger Games, but I mean it when I say that if I could travel back in time to stop those books from ever being published, I would do it in a heartbeat just so I would never have to see a book marketed as "X meets Hunger Games" ever again.
If you put even the slightest hint of competition in a YA or YA-adjacent book, it gets called Hunger Games. I could write a full rip-off of Bring It On, but the competition element would guarantee that it would be marketed as an HG style book.
The same thing happens with Mean Girls. Does your book have teenage or early 20s girls being in proximity to each other? Well it's Mean Girls now.
And it's really not doing these books any favors. Cause people pick them up expecting something in line with the brutality and messaging of HG, and end up disappointed as hell when that's not what they get.
I think publishing houses might actually be my mortal enemy
⬆️ Me fighting publishers for all the bs they pull (especially Red Tower - hate them)
book katniss + peeta for the soul
If one-appearance knights are allowed, then Tyolet (from the Lai of Tyolet) has a similar but superior skill set to Percival’s. He too grew up in the forest and he can control wild animals to some degree, like a Disney princess. If he got the mockingjays and/or the mutts on his side, he’d be a force of nature.
Come to think of it, Disney princesses would do really well in the Hunger Games.
Ok if characters from arthuriana were placed in the hunger games arena who do you think would make it out? My controversial opinion is that Perceval would do well because of his survival skills (grew up in forest) and his javelin throwing would give him an advantage
Done
Finnick Odair x Reader
summary: Upon arriving in District 13 you get a strange sense of dejavu but you refuse to relive the past here.
warnings: none
The ride to 13 had been eventful to say the least. Between Kathiss’ (attempted) attack on Haymitch and Finnick passing out not long after, you hadn’t had time to catch your breath.
Every single second in the arena had felt like hours. You hadn’t slept and could barely stand to eat. All of your energy went to watching Finnick’s back as he did the same for you.
It was purely selfish on your part. When Plutarch had come to you both about a rebel plan to get a selection of the victors, including the ever so important Mockingjay, out of the arena, you knew then and there you had to do everything in your power to keep Finnick safe until the calvary arrived.
It hadn’t been easy either. Not with poisonous fog or vicious monkey mutts or the rest of the tributes who were in the dark on the entire plan. Honestly, it wasn’t all that surprising that once things had calmed down with Katniss, and after being rescued from three days of non-stop adrenaline, Finnick had quite literally shut down, finally succumbing to the stress on his body.
At first, you lost your ever loving shit. Did he have an injury you didn’t know about? Did the district 13 soldiers on the hovercraft do something to him after you were lifted from the arena? It wasn’t until after Haymitch stepped in that you realized your fiancé was breathing perfectly normal and there was no blood or anything to suggest injury. But you couldn’t help it. For years you had watched the Capital and Snow abuse him. It was impossible not to be overprotective and overreactive. He was everything to you.
The real problems came, though, once you landed in 13. Immediately, soldiers acting as guards separated you from Finnick and when you fought back with every ounce of willpower you had left in your exhausted body they only stood their ground. At some point you could remember hearing Haymitch drop some very choice words to them before heading in the direction you’d seen them take Finnick. You screamed for what must have been a full hour before you were finally graced with the presence of one Alma Coin.
“I was told you wanted to see me.” She narrowed her eyes in a way that reminded you eerily of Snow when he wanted something from you. She was seated at a cold, metal table while you were standing and yet you couldn’t help but physically feel the difference in power.
“No.” You said plainly, not breaking eye contact. “I wanted to see Finnick.”
“He’s being evaluated.” She stated simply. “We need to be sure he’s ready to begin training immediately and your presence will hinder that assessment.”
“Training?”
“He is a solider now.” Coin looked at you as if you’d gone dumb. You should’ve known. After years of working for the Capital, Finnick as the their darling and you as a spy for Snow, you’d traded one prison for another. “Of course, I didn’t expect you to take on combative duty, you aren’t much of a fighter yourself. But Finnick will do well in District 13’s defenses.”
Years of abuse and fear and metaphorical chains rushed you - and by default, broke you.
“Finnick will not be a solider for you.” Your voice had gone cold, dark and a little authoritarian. It made Coin blink although she hid her surprise well. You’d have missed it if you hadn’t acquired an affinity for reading people in the Capital. She probably expected you to yell, become hysterical. But she hadn’t prepared for stone cold determination and resistance. “We have spent years serving tyrants and I’ll be damned if we continue here. We risked our lives to save your precious Mockingjay. Finnick was poisoned by fog, I took a bite from a mutt, we were boarder line electrocuted.”
“And we appreciate your dedication to the cause-”
“My only dedication is to Finnick.” You cut off her weak attempts at regaining the power at the shift in the room. “And you’ve decided to keep him barred away from me.”
“You make it sound like you’re prisoners here.” She says in an attempt at redirecting you.
“Aren’t we?” It’s a challenge and based on the subtle shift of her jaw you can tell she heard it. “You obviously need us, or rather, the information we both have, so let me tell you how this is going to go. You’re going to allow me to see my fiancé, you’re going to let us both recover from our taxing experience protecting your Mockingjay in peace and you’re not going to even breathe a word of sending Finnick into battle again. We’ve both done our parts for your revolution, it’s your turn to do something productive.”
After your tangent you feel the air buzzing. Despite your time in the Capital, confrontation wasn’t your strong suit. That’s why you were a spy and not a solider. The only other time you had ever challenged authority was when you and Finnick had started getting closer after your games and you learned about what Snow made him do. You’d demanded he release Finnick from his duties in the Capital in exchange for your services as his own personal spy. Luckily, the president had seen your skills in your games and how you hid from every other tribute, taking them out from locations so hidden that even the game markers sometimes had difficulty finding you without looking for your tracker on the monitor.
But you couldn’t help it. This was Finnick. This was years of being used and abused and feeling unsafe at every moment. You’d be damned if you continued to live under the thumb of another person any longer.
Coin must have weighted her options in the time it took you to stop everything in your vision from vibrating because she gave one definitive nod. “Deal.” You schooled your features despite the shock you felt. “If you both provide me with the information on everyone and anyone we need and agree to film a few pieces of propaganda exposing the Capitals abuse of its victors, then I suppose Finnick can be dismissed from combative duties.”
You were weary of Coin, but she had called in a few of her most important people and sworn to the agreement in front of them. You could tell, though, that she was a little bitter about it because she made a point of saying how she had plenty of better fighters to take Finnick’s place.
Without any further struggle you were being led throughout the hospital wing to him. You had to wonder if Coin ever really expected you and Finnick to agree to fighting for her or if your challenge of authority was too inconvenient and she simply needed it to go away more than she needed Finnick to be a solider. Either way you sent a prayer to whoever was listening and fought the urge to rush past the soldier escorting you and find Finnick yourself.
Once you turned a few more corners it wasn’t hard to pinpoint where he was. You could hear him shouting all the way down the hall. The tone in his voice must have conveyed danger because a second later a nurse came flying from the room and towards your escort. “He wants to see her. He’s becoming escalated.”
You didn’t waste any time ducking around the soldier who was now trying to calm the anxious nurse. You weren’t too surprised with how worked up she was, you had learned your scary, dark voice that you used on Coin from Finnick himself afterall.
“Finnick!” You shouted, finally pushing through the door of his room. His head snapped up at the sound and you threw yourself in his arms where he sat on the edge of the bed. He immediately dropped the rope he was working, which had been given to him by Haymitch when he woke up in a panic over not seeing you immediately. He’d knotted it so many times in the last hour you’d been trying to get back to him that it was already fraying at the edges.
His arms trapped you to him as your hands carded through his hair. “Didn’t see you when I woke up.” He mumbled into your neck, the wetness on your exposed skin betraying the few tears he couldn’t keep at bay. You couldn’t blame him, just like when he’d passed out, his body was finally catching up to the stress of the past three days.
“They separated me from you.” You sighed, never stopping your hands from their calming ministrations. “I talked to President Coin, I can tell you about it later, but I’m not leaving your side again.”
Finnick tightened his hold on your waist. “Good.” He pulled back just enough to look at your face and it almost broke you. His panic was still evident in his features and you smoothed out all the worry lines with your fingers. “Are we done?”
You knew what he meant. Are we done fighting? Are we done running? Are we done sacrificing?
“Yeah, Finn.” You felt the first tear since a break down you’d had at the announcement of the Quarter Quell roll down your cheek and off your chin. “We’re done.”
He brushed a few strands of hair back from your face. “Don’t cry, honey.” He said despite the wetness of his own eyes and he tugged you onto the bed with him. Your head barely had time to settle onto his chest before you yourself gave into exhaustion.
can i call you rose?
⤷ peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district!reader: coriolanus and you celebrate your anniversary, slow dancing as you reminisce about the time you met.
The Covey sang softly, a sweet ballad that Coriolanus had written for your anniversary with Coriolanus. It had been a year since you’d met here in the hub, and every moment since then had felt like a dream.
You met Coryo on a drunken night and remember dancing wildly and letting loose on a hot Saturday night. Not a care in a world, as the music moved you. Amid your festivities, a body crashed into you, causing moonshine to spill on your shirt and the stranger who stood before you. Despite the mishap, his eyes captivated you like a bright pool of water, drawing you in. It was the first thing that caught your attention, even before you noticed his distinct accent, unlike any you had heard from District 12.
"Watch your step, pretty lady," he said with a charming smile, his voice conveying mystery and allure. Coriolanus didn’t have the twang in his voice that the locals had. Your palms began to sweat at the realization that you had spilled your drink on a Peacekeeper. But Coriolanus kept his hands steady on your waist with his alluring smile.
“Shit! I didn’t mean to-. I’m so sorry, sir,” you stuttered.
Coriolanus had been nothing but a gentleman and laughed softly at how quickly you transformed into such a timid thing.
He ignored your apology and replied, “May I have this dance?”
Coriolanus pulled you out of your trance when he peppered small kisses along your jawline down to your neck as he swayed with you along with the melody.
“Coryo-“
“Shhh, listen to the lyrics. I wrote them special for you.” Coryo held you close to him, and you could feel his steady heartbeat against your chest. Remaining in the moment, you focused on the words that The Covey sang.
“Can I call you Rose?
Cause you're sweet like a flower in blue
Can I call you Rose?
Cause your fragrance takes over the room
Darling, I wanna plant you in my heart, oh
So love can grow
Can I call you Rose?
Cause your thorns won't let blood in too soon
Can I call you Rose?
Cause your roots have the power to consume me.”
Tears welled in your eyes as the euphemism within the song hit its poignant note. Speechless, you watched as Coriolanus gingerly pulled away, his piercing crystal blue eyes locking with yours—two souls connected in a wordless exchange, foreheads pressed in a tender moment of silent understanding.
“I love you,” he whispered. Coriolanus slid down onto one knee and took out the silver compact with an engraved rose on it. Revealing the prettiest ring that you had ever seen.
“Will you marry me?”
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Okay, so y'all know Katniss and Primrose from The Hunger Games, right?? Do you think if Sae was Katniss, would he sacrifice himself for Rin? Like, imagine Rin was chosen for the Hunger Games, would Sae volunteer as a tribute?? I wanna know so bad, because their relationship is so interesting to me!! (Also I just watched the movie for the 100th time lmao)
I know the new Hunger Games book announcement is exciting. But in what world are we hearing more about a book announcement than we are about the bombing of 40 children in a UN school-turned-refugee shelter? These two events occurred on the same day. Only one is being widely spoken about in the media.
Let’s not forget why Suzanne Collins wrote the series in the first place. One night, she was watching TV, flipping back and forth between coverage of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and a reality-TV show. That's when she had the idea that would ultimately turn into The Hunger Games.
Please don’t let pop culture distract you from a genocide.
The Hunger Games, Actual Teen style!
On the left, 15-year-old Josh Hutcherson.
On the right, 16-year-old Jennifer Lawrence.
Think how much creepier it would be to see them killing other kids when they look so squishy-cheeked and little.
