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#ask: thg
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When do you think Katniss and Peeta developing real romantic feeling toward each other?
Thank you 😊
@everlarkshipper
Well!
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(gif originally saved from tenor, not mine)
In my personal opinion, I think Peeta begins falling for Katniss pretty much exactly when he says he does in the cave (aka, the first day of school when she sang, aka, "from that moment on, I was a goner"). He's not afraid of feelings/doesn't think of them as a weakness the way Katniss is/does, and while they don't officially meet until the day of the Reaping, they're not quite total strangers, either. It's sort of a running joke about small towns that "everybody knows everybody," so even when you aren't close to someone, you still kind of know things about them because you simply can't avoid crossing paths throughout your life.
[For instance: when I was in college, there was this one semester where I'd pass this same guy on my way to class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for three+ months. To this day, I don't know his name, I don't know his major, I don't know whether he was coming from a dorm or a class or the library, but I know he had to catch the 11:55 bus, that he liked vanilla protein drinks more than chocolate protein drinks, that he would rather trip over someone than elbow his way past them, that he really liked wearing gray, and that he could jump a bike rack if he wanted to, because I observed all those pieces of information just casually walking past him for that short amount of time even though I had no interest in him. Peeta, by comparison, was interested in Katniss from the get-go and saw her at least five days a week for about a decade, so I think it's safe to assume a lot of the knowledge he surprises her by airing during their discussion with Haymitch (the hunting skills, the good aim, etc.) are things he's picked up on because he's (as he says) "paying attention." ]
Because his dad points Katniss out and tells a story about her mother (and her father, and the baker, which in and of itself is kind of interesting as it can sort of be taken as foreshadowing since it involves two kids from one side of town who grow up together but don't end up together because one of the kids falls in love with a person from the opposite side of town which, ya know, sounds a little G/K/P but I digress), Peeta notices her. But that first notice isn't The Moment™ for him; instead, it's her volunteering (!!!) to get up in front of the class and sing the Valley song that does him in.
And to be honest, while I do understand where people who discount that first day of school thing because "they were just kids" are coming from, I personally think it has to be counted because, as Peeta himself points out, he "noticed just about every girl," but the only one who makes "a lasting impression" is Katniss meaning, in essence, that he sort of tested/examined his feelings for Katniss and realized way before the Games that they were, in fact, strong enough to make him want to try and keep her alive at his own expense in the arena. For him, the romantic feelings are already in place by the time we the readers meet him, and finally getting to know her only strengthens how he feels because a lot of the things he most admires about her (her strength, her bravery, her skill, her stubbornness, her love for her sister, etc.) are all on full display. (Also: he thinks she's funny even if no one else does, and like he tells her in Catching Fire when she's mad at him for laughing after the Johanna-Elevator incident, he basically loves the fact that she's intimidating on the outside and awkward as anything [aka, "pure"] on the inside.)
To me, it's kind of significant that for Peeta, it's emphasized at the end of THG how he's "already there" when it comes to being in love, and that he "[wants] it to be real" in CF when they're parading their fake but-maybe-not-so-fake relationship around, and I firmly believe that the main reason his MJ storyline hurts so much beyond the usual watching-a-favorite-character-be-damaged-by-the-narrative is because his inability to tell the difference between what's real and what isn't is such a perversion of his previously rock-solid love for Katniss. Up until that moment in the series, we the readers and Katniss, and basically all the rest of Panem know that Peeta's feelings for her are real; after what the Capitol does to him, his biggest point of confusion centers on what he feels for Katniss, but even when he doubts what he's seeing/hearing/thinking/feeling, reason still tells him that you don't start off risking a beating for burning bread and go back into a government-sponsored death match for someone you don't love a whole lot.
In Katniss' case I think it's more difficult to pinpoint one exact moment of origin, because she doesn't like to deal with feelings to begin with and is also too practical to take time to sit down and sort out how she feels when there are so many other things to do (and also, a lot of what causes her to fall for Peeta are the smaller, everyday parts of his personality rather than any single grand gesture or one particular moment they share together).
That being said, Katniss is one of the closest approximations to myself that I've ever come across in fiction in terms of how we think/operate, so I personally see a lot of giveaways regarding how/what she thinks of Peeta and how that shifts over time. And to me, the closest thing to an official Romantic Feels Are Sparking moment is the moment in the cave when she starts to wonder if he's a really, really, really good actor, or if what he's telling her is maybe based in truth.
One of the things I've noticed over time during HG discussions is that a lot of people seem to either not fully understand or to gloss over Katniss' practicality, which is a huge part of who she is and how she makes her decisions (including romantic ones). Like she says herself several times throughout the series, Katniss is focused predominantly on survival for most of her life. That's it. She doesn't go for things like music, ribbons, pets, etc., because they're not useful, and to her, romantic relationships also fall in that category because they carry an inherent risk with them in a world where children born outside the wealthy Capitol are in danger of starving to death or getting sent to the Games, and loving and losing someone has the potential to make you fall apart. Due to everything she's gone through in life (losing her father, being essentially forced to take his place, etc.) , she's become self-sufficient and distrustful, and also extremely good at compartmentalizing her feelings (with the sometimes exception of anger). From the second she volunteers for Prim, her focus is on how to maximize her chances of survival; while she knows her odds aren't good, she's too much of a fighter to go down without swinging, and when she sees ways in which she can improve her chances, she goes after them to the best of her ability.
Enter: Peeta, the boy she feels indebted to but has never interacted with even once, who she is now competing with for survival.
Also enter: complicated feelings Katniss very much does not want to deal with because they are a distraction from her current goal of survival.
While it's definitely tempting to make headcanons about how Katniss also maybe had feelings for Peeta prior to the Games because she "[keeps] track of the boy with the bread," I think the important takeaway is: no romantic feelings exist on Katniss' side, but the potential for feelings might...it's just complicated by the Games, because Katniss is so focused on staying alive that she's constantly on guard and keeps misinterpreting his actions as some sneaky, crafty plan when he's actually just being kind. So, even when he catches her off guard and makes her laugh/she finds herself not totally hating hanging out with him, she has to immediately nip all that in the bud because she knows that her survival will ultimately come at the cost of his death, and it's an ugly reality that's much easier to face if she doesn't like him, or at least doesn't know him, than it will be if they become friends and she has to kill him/watch him die/mourn his loss (basically, the whole insidiousness principle of the Games: it forces you into dehumanizing your competitors to save yourself, which will ultimately take a horrible toll on you no matter what).
Although Katniss is inclined to like him, she is also massively confused by him because he keeps behaving in ways that are contradictory to all sense and reason ("He's very hard to predict, which might be interesting under different circumstances, but at the moment only provides another obstacle"), so she's constantly sifting through information until basically, only three explanations for what he's doing remain:
He's trying to survive and jumping at anything that will heighten his chance of that no matter how ruthless (aka pretending to be nice so he can eliminate her later, joining the careers, etc.)
He's genuinely kind but also genuinely trying to survive and is just acting for sponsors
He's telling the truth and really does like her
The trouble is, if you run all those reasons through the logic filter, the answer that seems the most likely is #2, because in Katniss' mind, it doesn't make sense that he'd help her as much as he does if he were just trying to kill her, but it also doesn't make sense that he'd do everything he does because he loves her since she doesn't even understand why anyone outside of her mother and sister would like her. So in essence, every time Peeta sort of tips his hand about how he really feels, Katniss notices it, but is able to find a logical explanation for it/dismiss it as strategy until that one moment in the cave when she realizes he's telling her some things that have a basis in reality, which would imply that everything he's been saying about liking her but her not knowing he was alive is true. And that time when they kiss, she feels something that A) gets the blood pumping in her cut enough to make Peeta stop it all, and B) sticks in her mind enough that she mentions it again in connection with the beach kiss(es) in CF.
Anyways. This is super-duper wordy, so for purposes of succinctness, I have also provided a quick photo summary of my arguments regarding when Katniss first began having real romantic feelings toward Peeta:
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Everything is then (of course) further complicated by Snow and the Capitol, plus Peeta learning that Katniss was under the impression that the Star-Crossed Lovers story was a survival strategy, but the important thing to remember in my opinion is that Katniss explicitly states at both the end of THG and the beginning of CF that she is not sure how much of what she does in the 74th Games is an act, because those little moments in the cave feel real (coughcough), while most of the rest can be written off as planned pageantry.
Thanks for the ask, and sorry for the longwinded response! 😘
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mikonez · 4 months
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I like them a normal amount.
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marvelsswansong · 5 months
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Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only
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no but like seriously 🌞👉👈
Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.
This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.
Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.
If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.
"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.
Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.
"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.
But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.
So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.
He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.
After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.
You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.
It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.
His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.
What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.
Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.
"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.
"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.
"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."
"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.
You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.
She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.
"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."
With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.
"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."
You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.
"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.
Regardless of their gender.
Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.
BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)
You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.
Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.
"I'm not interested, sorry."
The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.
"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."
The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.
He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.
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a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe
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hi love!!!! your work is so amazing i love how you write
i was wondering if you could do a corionlanus x fem reader where she’s his tribute and is about to be killed in the game but it’s kind of like that scene in you where she says “no don’t kill me im pregnant” and it’s his reaction and everyone watching trying to get them to end the games? i’d love to see what you could do w that feel free to change anything u want!
Songbird's Plan | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!tribute!reader
Summary: The presence of a song bird can change everything for one who appreciates them or "if it weren't for the baby" TBOSAS edition.
Warning/s: a bit of angst, Coriolanus Snow being in love, nickname (songbird), mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, short fic, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: It's finally here. Hope you enjoy.
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The moment Coriolanus Snow met you he knew that he would do everything in his power to protect you from harm no matter what.
Of course he knew that that was going to be a difficult challenge because you were his tribute.
You were supposed to be in the games, you were supposed to literally fight for your life. There was always the chance that you would die, but Coriolanus didn't allow himself to think too long of this outcome. He knew that it would simply drive him to compete and utter madness.
So once the rebels bombed the arena, once he was out of the hospital and once he made sure that his tribute was okay, he sneaked into the arena the night before the games.
He spend more than half of the night searching for the places for his little songbird to hide. He did everything he could, he truly did, and he truly did though that he would be prepared for everything.
Yet as he found himself leaning towards the screen in front of him that displayed the scene of you being attacked by Coral he felt himself automatically freeze. He felt helpless.
He felt like he let you down and that ate him inside out.
Coriolanus felt like his heart was going to simply burst out of his chest as he watched, his throat tightening.
He watched Coral getting closer to you. He felt useless.
But there was something that both of you underestimated. There was a certain connection between you two. Both Coriolanus and you were smart, willing to do anything to survive.
Once Coriolanus remembered that, he forced himself to move. He could probably wipe out Coral with those badly made drones, but he needed some distraction because if Coral sees them, it's over. He could hit you.
"Please, don't!" Your voice broke out of the screen, Coriolanus felt himself flinch at the desperation behind it.
He watched your helpless form glazing away from Coral like you were on thin ice.
Coriolanus felt like he would scream put as Coral raised her weapon against you. But that's when you yelled out something that made his heart completely stop.
"No!" Your forceful voice shouted. "Don't kill me, I'm pregnant!"
Coral stopped for a moment. Coriolanus stopped for a moment. In fact, it seemed like the entire world stopped for a moment.
Coriolanus couldn't move, his mouth slightly agape as he watched you breathe heavily as you waited for Coral to move.
"Stop the games!" Tigris shouted in despair.
Coriolanus felt himself turn around quickly as he watched the mob of students standing up, waving his hands in air as they shouted to stop the games.
Coriolanus quickly turned to the screen and watched Coral still trying to gain her composure. He moved quickly, his body quicker than his mind.
If he doesn't do anything now, it would be over for you.
So as he send at least ten drones into the arena, successfully killing Coral, and as he watched your face twist in relief, and as he heard the cheers behind him he realized that maybe the hope wasn't lost after all.
His little songbird was truly a genius.
->
->
->
TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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moon-mirage · 28 days
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Finally, by VERY popular demand, Peeta carrying Katniss while kissing:
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darby-rowe · 3 months
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imagine coryo cumming in his pants randomly in class because he just had a thought of you bent over for him and now he has to hide the wet stain
ANON YOURE A GENIUS
18+ | nsfw | mdni cw fem!reader, not proofread
underneath his cool and pompous exterior, coriolanus was still, at his core, a horny teenage boy.
which is why he tries so hard to not think of you during class: your smile, your laugh, the smell of your perfume, how intelligent you were. he thought about you in the academy's long red pleated skirt and how it fell just below your knees. and protruding from your skirt came your legs clad in tights, and your pretty little shoes that made the muscles of your calves flex every time you walked.
coriolanus could already feel his mind slipping to more lewd thoughts, like the time he saw slightly bent over a desk, your hands grabbing onto the edges as you were deep in conversation with a friend. he thought about how you'd look if you were bent over at a complete 90-degree angle, and he stood behind you gripping your hips. he imagined that sexy smirk of yours as you'd crane your neck to look him in the eyes, and your ass would slowly begin to hump against his hardened cock pressed painfully against his slacks.
"coryo..." his name escaped your lips like steam rising from a boiling pot of water. his mind led down a dangerous route, as he became hyperfixated on how your ass would feel grinding against his crotch, the delicious melody of your moans, and the filth that would escape his lips as he watched you be so lewd for him. you would keep going, and going, humping, grinding—
coriolanus gripped his mouth as he felt his cock throb and spurt out warm ropes of cum in his bright red pants, his body slightly jerking forward from the unexpected release. he looked down, and to his horror, was a generously sized wet patch right on his crotch. immediately, he took his leather satchel and placed it on his lap, feeling his face burn a deep scarlet.
he flinched as you tapped him on the shoulder, whipping his head to look at you and your adorable look of concern. "are you okay?" you whispered, trying not to interrupt the ongoing lecture from the professor at the front of the room.
coriolanus swallowed hard, awkwardly shifting on his seat. "yes," he choked out, forcing a nonchalant smile. "i'm fine. thank you for asking,"
and he could have survived the rest of the lecture if it weren't for your beautiful smile and the softness of your touch on his arm. "i'm here if you need anything, okay?"
at that moment, coriolanus could have sworn you were doing this shit to him on purpose.
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phoward89 · 3 months
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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics
Based on this ask
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Love Is A Losing Game
The avox stood against the wall, waiting for you to beckon, while you sat in your sunroom with your longtime best friend, Livia. You were at a small table drinking tea and listening to her complain about her toddler, Plutarch.
“Ugh. I swear, I can't even go to the powder room without him following me.” Reaching for a biscuit, your dirty blonde friend sighed, “I told Hilarious that we need to hire a nanny, but he said no.”
She took a small bite of her biscuit as you sipped on your tea. You didn't know why she was so upset about her toddler wanting to spend time with her. And you told her so too.
“You just don't understand how demanding motherhood is, Y/N. Just you wait and see.” Pointing to your round belly, Livia factually remarked, “In a few more months when you pop out Coriolanus’ little brat you'll be singing a different tune.”
“Don't call Cassian Xandros a little brat.” You snippily ordered your friend, causing her to just roll her eyes at you. Setting down your teacup, you decided to change the subject to something that you needed to get off your chest; something that's been eating away at your mind. “I think Coryo's having an affair.”
“He's only been president for a few months, Y/N. If word got out, well, it'd be scandalous and I'm sure his political career would be dead in the water.” Livia told you while nibbling on her lemon butter biscuit. “Do you know with whom?”
“No, but I know he has to be having an affair, Livia. I mean he comes and goes at all hours and half the time he's not even coming to bed; we haven't slept together in a while too.”
“Oh no, now that is a problem.” The dirty blonde socialite sighed. “I bet it's Clemensia Dovecote that he's cheating with. You don't know, since you were a couple grades below us at the Academy, but they were always walking into the school linked arm in arm. Even though they denied it, they looked like a couple back then.” Livia bluntly informed you, picking up her teacup and sipping it.
“Really? I didn't know that.” You honestly told your friend. Reaching for your own teacup, you revealed the name of the person you thought your husband had a thing for back in his Academy days. “Coryo was always with Sejanus back then; I always got the vibe that they were a little bit more than just friends.”
“Oh I hope not. He was district.” Livia spat out; the thought of the president having a past love affair with a district person making her skin crawl.
If only she knew about what went down between him and Lucy Gray. Oh, she'd shit her pants if she knew about that.
You know, of course, since he told you about it after a year of dating. When you had to all but pull his teeth to get him to reveal why he refused to tell you that he loved you; show you anything other than lust and his OCD tendencies.
It didn't bother you.
Correction, him having Lucy Gray as his ex and his failed first love didn't bother you, but the number that she did on him- now that’s what bothered you.
She fucked his head up pretty bad; took you a long time to unfuck it up too. To get him to be able to confess his love to you.
But somewhere deep inside of your soul, you always feared that Coryo was just telling you what you wanted to hear. That he didn't truly love you; that he could turn to somebody else once he got bored of you.
“Yea…but they were close friends. Like brothers” You reminded Livia. “And his death hit Coriolanus hard.”
That was an understatement. Your husband still had nightmares about his fellow comrade’s death. It happened a decade ago, but he was still haunted some nights by nightmares. Those nights you usually had to ride his cock to calm him down so he’d be able to go back to sleep.
He never talked about the nightmares, other than the one time he told you that it was about Sejanus’ death. You never pried, knowing that the Plinth boy's execution was a taboo topic for Coriolanus.
The socialite rolled her eyes, only to suggest, “If you think he's having an affair then you should wait up for him tonight and confront him.” Giving you a look from over her teacup, she added in, “It's what I would do.”
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Coriolanus was exhausted. No, wait, take that back- he was FUCKING exhausted.
Between trying to clean up the fucking mess that older then dirt President Ravenstill left for him and trying to ensure a smooth transition of head gamemaker duties to his successor (a recent University grad that sadly didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground), he was stretched too thin.
Burning the candle at both ends as one might say.
He was barely sleeping; worse he was barely able to spend anytime with you.
You were 6 months pregnant with his first child.
A son.
He felt guilty for being in his office on the opposite side of the presidential palace or at the Citadel, but he didn't have a choice. The games along with trying to keep the country afloat was his top priority.
As much as he wanted to spend his late afternoons and evenings with you, he couldn't. And he wanted nothing more than to fuck you dumb on his dick every night too, but sadly he was just too tired anymore for that either.
When the new Head Gamemaker calls up in the middle of the night frantically asking what to do if an intern falls into a mutt tank…well…yea…that's when Coriolanus knows he has to do two jobs instead of just one.
He's stuck puppeteering the new head gamemaker *cough* telling him step by step how to do is damn job since he fucking fudged his job application and has shit for brains *cough* and running a country that's national bank account’s lower than it should be *cough* looks like President Ravenstill and his cabinet were embezzling funds or something cause the numbers aren't adding up *cough*.
“Yes, well, if you need any more assistance on this matter don't hesitate to call.” Coriolanuse tightly told the Head Gamemaker. The man was grating on his nerves. Before the unqualified idiot could utter a word, the president said goodbye and hung up.
Hung up with a firm, loud, clunk since he was so tired and aggravated.
Unfortunately, the president was always tired anymore. He was even too tired to fuck you these days, which was truly depressing for him since your Coryo felt you were even more beautiful now that your belly's round with his child.
Coriolanus felt that your pregnancy makes you look radiant. Your skin had a glow to it, he felt you look ethereal.
Your tits were full from the milk your body was making in order to feed your son once he was born; he loves your milk heavy boobs. Coriolanus Snow’s a tits and ass man; so your boobs going up by 2 sizes was heaven for him. The president enjoys sucking and massaging them in his large, calloused hands while you ride his cock. Burying his face in them, peppering kisses in your cleavage.
Something his exhaustion has been keeping him from doing.
Also, your ever growing belly (full of the precious life you created during a very passionate and lustful night 6 months prior) made his chest swell with a burning pride. Coriolanus loves kissing your stretch marks and running his hands all over your belly.
He also enjoys whispering to your belly, telling your growing son all kinds of father-son secrets.
But he’s been too tired and tied up with his never ending work to do that ritual.
Half the time he was passing out on the sofa in his office before he could even make it to your room; the other half of the time he was sliding into bed in the wee hours while you were in a deep sleep.
He hated it.
But he has to endure it because he refuses to have the games flop during his first year as President of Panem.
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When Coryo dragged his feet into your large, ornate bedroom he wasn't expecting you to be up, waiting for him. He assumed you'd be asleep, like every other night.
“It's nearly 2 in the morning, Y/N. Why aren't you sleeping? You know you need proper sleep in your condition, my darling rose.” Your husband lectured you, tiredly fumbling to untie his tie.
You decided to do what LIvia suggested. Wait for your husband and confront him. So, when he shuffles into your room, a sight for sore eyes, with the nerve to lecture you about being up, you lost it.
Your eyes narrowed at the president as you snipped out, “Coriolanus, I know you're cheating on me. Who is she? Is it Clemensia Dovecote or somebody else?”
Pulling his tie off and tossing it to the side, he looked at you as if you had lobsters crawling out of your head. You’re accusing him of having an affair. Seriously?
“With how I’m spread too thin, darling, where would I ever find the time for an affair?” Coriolanus chuckled.
He thought this was funny, oh how dare he!
“This isn't funny, Coriolanus! You're coming and going at all hours; we never sleep together anymore. Who is she?!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, watching your husband unbutton his waistcoat and take it off.
The platinum blonde’s long fingers numbly unbuttoned his shirt. His tone was flat and tired as he gave you the blunt answer of, “The she that's taking all of my attention off of you, my love, is the shaky finances of Panem and the Hunger Games.”
All of the air was knocked out of your lungs upon hearing your husband's words. All you could do was blink. “What?” you whispered in disbelief.
Coryo's shirt hit the floor, in the pile his red waistcoat and tie was in. Toeing out of his shoes, he sighed, “Being president and passing the baton for the games to an under qualified head gamemaker, unfortunately, has taken up all my time.” Unbuckling his belt and pulling down his deep crimson pants, he offered up a sincere apology of, “I’m sorry, my darling rose, that my neglect made you think, even for a moment, that I’m being unfaithful to you.” His pants pooled around his long, pale legs, and he gracefully stepped out of them. “Y/N, I truly did not mean for you to feel such a way, my love.”
Watching your husband pull off his socks and toss them to the side, you cried tears of joy. “I forgive you; I'm just happy that it's work taking up your attention and not some whore.”
Coriolanus tiredly made his way over to the king-sized bed you shared and climbed into it. Pulling you into his arms, he let out a puzzled scoff of, “Clemmie? Really, of all people to accuse me of having an affair with it's her?”
“I didn't accuse you of cheating with her; that was actually Livia this afternoon when I told her that I suspected you of having an affair.” You informed your husband as he pulled the blankets over the both of you.
“You told that bitch you thought I was cheating on you?!” Coryo exclaimed, his nostrils flaring; baby blues wide in utter horror.
“Don't call Livia a bitch, Coriolanus.” You reprimanded your husband, only to remind him that, “She's my best friend.”
“I don't know how you're best friends with that shrew, darling.” Coriolanus mumbled mostly to himself, even though you heard him. His large, calloused hand rubbed your ever growing baby bump softly. “Telling Livia your ill founded fears was a mistake. She'll just tell that political reject husband of her’s; he'll be calling up Capitol News 6 with a juicy insider story about the unfaithful president.” Coryo’s tongue popped angrily. “My fake affair’s going to be the the main news headliner tomorrow morning, my darling rose.”
“No, it won't, Coryo.” You assured your husband since you had too much faith in your best friend.
Your husband on the other hand didn't have faith in Livia Cardew-Heavensbee, at all. No, he didn't trust her after the temper tantrum she through when her mother informed her that he was courting you, General Prometheus Byzantine’s step-daughter, and had refused to meet with the Cardews regarding a money match.
Coriolanus never told you about that because he didn't want to taint your friendship with the dirty blonde shrew, who only married Hilarious because she couldn't have him: the adoptive heir to the Plinths fortune.
But now maybe it was time to tell you. Maybe it was time to taint and ruin a girlhood friendship of yours.
Only to ensure that you wouldn't trust anyone that didn't carry the Snow name.
Yes, the only people you could trust were him and Tigris. He was even leery about Tigris’ new lover, Aleka. Eh, but that was because his spies haven't been able to dig up enough information on them for the president to decide whether or not they were trustworthy.
But, he's sure that after he tells you the truth about Livia that you'll be rethinking that friendship.
And when (not if) that article hits the news as the big headliner, he'll make sure to invite Hilarious over for drinks.
Drinks that only one of them will enjoy.
Snow lands on top and he'll make sure that anybody who slanders his good name or makes you believe he's an unfaithful man, when he's actually the most devoted and faithful husband in all of Panem, chokes on their own blood.
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coryosmin · 3 months
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pervy best friend!coryo convincing innocent!reader that if he just puts the tip in she’ll still be a virgin and that as his best friend she really needs to help him because he’s just so hard :( (i imagine that reader is always touchy with him and maybe she’s sitting in his lap or something and he gets hard…)
nsfw | mdni | fem!reader
imagining that you are coryo’s best friend and you’ve always been so touchy feely with him because that’s what you thought was normal. you always cuddled with coryo, sitting on his lap, held his hand in public. in fact, everyone thought you and coryo were dating, not best friends. coryo didn’t mind that though. not at all.
you were always so innocent and adorable to him. you’ve never been touched by another man, always saying that you wanted to save yourself for someone you love. of course, you do know about sex. you had paid attention to your sex ed courses obviously. but even so, you’ve never seen a penis, never touched one, and coryo knew you only have kissed someone. you guys were each other’s first kisses after all.
you and coryo were sat on your couch, cuddling. you were sat on his lap, your knees on either side of coryo as you laid your head on his shoulder. his arms were wrapped around you, holding you closely as the two of you were just talking about minuscule things. you would move slightly, adjusting your position or whatever when you accidentally graze coriolanus’s crotch, causing him to inhale sharply and his cock to harden.
“oh!” you exclaimed, feeling his hard on pressing against you. “sorry about that,” you blushed.
coriolanus simply smirked. “well, darling, since you caused it, it’s only fair that you make it go away,” he exclaimed, looking up at you with his pretty blue eyes. “as that’s what best friends would do.”
your eyes widened at coryo’s words. “but i-i’ve never done that sort of thing, coryo,” you said, biting your lip. “i’m still a virgin.”
coriolanus’s heart melted as he looked at how blushy and nervous you were. unable to help it, he grinding against you a bit, causing you to gasp from the friction. “mm but you caused this,” he murmured. “you’d still be a virgin if i just stuck the tip in.” coryo brought his hand up to your face caressing your cheek.
you thought about it for a moment. his logic made sense. technically, she would still be a virgin if it’s just in a little bit and not a lot. coryo always knew best, right? hesitantly, you nodded your head. “okay,” you whispered.
coriolanus smiled. “yeah?”
“yeah.”
which then he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out. you looked down at it, eyes widening at how big it was. you couldn’t help but feel aroused at the sight of your best friend’s cock. you licked your lips, moving up slightly to lift your dress up and push your panties to the side.
coriolanus let out a hot breath as he guided his cock to your pussy, causing you both to let out small moans. the tip rubbed against your wetness, spreading it around before he eased the tip inside your hole. “you’re so wet, darling,” he murmured, looking down at your pussy.
you bit your lip, nodding your head. coryo began moving his hips, only fucking up into you with the tip of his cock. it was like teasing you. you wanted him to go deeper, wanted to feel him truly inside of you. you looked at coryo, his cheeks flushed as his eyes were fixated on your pussy to make sure he didn’t go past the tip.
you let out a small whine, easing yourself down his cock a bit more. the stretch hurt a bit but you didn’t mind it, you wanted to feel him. coriolanus let out a groan, feeling your pussy around his member. “you’re so tight,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist. coriolanus continued to move his hips inside of you, his cock hitting your g-spot.
you moaned, reaching a hand to coryo’s hair. “is so good, coryo,” you said.
coriolanus continued fucking up into you, letting out his own moans. “i know, baby,” he said shakily. he looked into your eyes, bringing a hand to cup the back of your head and leaning you down to kiss him. you kissed coryo back, moving your hips in sync with his.
and soon coryo pulled away from the kiss to throw his head back in pleasure, letting out an “oh fuck, i’m gonna cum,” before cumming inside of you. you moaned at the feeling, clenching around coryo’s cock. and when he finished, he looked up at you and you looked down at him. you both were breathing heavily.
“i don’t think im a virgin anymore,” you muttered, causing coriolanus to laugh.
“i’m afraid not,” he said, caressing your hair. and when you eased off of his cock, he knew you didn’t cum.
so he definitely helped you by eating you out. teehee
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atelierlili · 27 days
Note
Everlark kissing art request?
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“Don’t let him take you away from me.”
Sorry! The last few requests have been too cute and I was in my Mockingjay angst yesterday so here we are!
Thanks so much for the requests anon 💗💕
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ilguna · 6 months
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Can you do prompt 11 from aisle 1 with peeta or finnick? Like reader or whoever u choose is almost killed in the games then they get yelled at n stuff🩷🙏
☼ bloody flowers (Peeta Mellark) ☼
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warnings; swearing, death, death mention, blood, ehh gore, weapon use. peeta’s mean.
wc; 2.3k
prompt; 11. yelling at them because they thought they’d lose them.
notes; no katniss, roles for mockingjay are reversed.
“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” You tell Peeta and Finnick, breaking the silence.
Finnick is on his feet, slowly wading further into the saltwater, carefully rubbing it on his skin to ensure he’s got all the poison out. He barely looks over his shoulder to acknowledge what you’ve said, nodding. He’s having a hard time speaking, his throat is raw from the amount of fog he breathed in.
As you get to your feet, brushing the sand from your skin, Peeta looks over at you, eyebrows drawing in. “Let me make the hole first. You stay with him, you’re better friends.”
“That’s not…” You shake your head, but he’s heading into the jungle, knife in hand.
When you turn your head to look at Finnick—afraid that he’s heard what Peeta said—you can’t find him immediately. You shuffle forward in the sand, eyes searching the water. You spot him beneath the surface, easing your anxiety.
With that, you leave him be. You trust that he won’t accidentally drown himself, since he’s the best swimmer out of your group. And he’s going to need some time alone, after losing Mags to the fog in the jungle.
It was quick, you didn’t even have time to intervene. Finnick saw that you were struggling to carry Mags down the slope, after the two of you had switched, because Peeta was entirely too heavy to be leaning on you for support. In the brief break you took to regain your strength, Mags kissed Finnick goodbye and walked straight into the fog.
What happened didn’t register until Finnick was pulling you to your feet, ordering you to grab one side of Peeta, so the two of you could work together. You don’t have to say anything to Finnick to know that he’s hurt, the look on his face alone is a dead giveaway.
You find your melted jumpsuit strewn in the sand, alongside Finnicks and Peetas. It had been ripped off of you by Peeta, who was so desperate to get you in the water, that he’d forgotten how much it’d hurt being submerged. It could’ve been worse, you weren’t covered in nearly as much of the fog as Finnick had been.
You crouch next to Peeta’s suit, flipping it over to find the mockingjay pin still holding on tightly. You unhook it from his clothes, and move to pin it to the front of your undershirt to hold onto it for him. You then reach to touch the gold necklace to make sure that it’s still hanging around your neck.
The floatation belts seem to have not been affected by the fog at all. They look brand new, actually. You pull it around your waist, buckling it back on. As much as you’d wish to leave it, you’re not the best swimmer in the alliance. Peeta and Finnick are far better, which is why they’ll feel comfortable enough to leave theirs behind.
You stand again, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the soreness throughout your body. And then, you reach to pull the hair tie out to let your hair down, which has been severely damaged by the fog. Barely touching it, clumps come out, stuck between your fingers. The sight is only slightly nauseating. You comb your hair the best you can, watching as the collection grows. When it seems to have slowed, you pull your hair back into a ponytail, and fling the dead hair into the trees.
Speaking of which, Peeta’s found a good one ten yards in from the beach. You can hardly see him through the trees, but the sound of him drilling is unmistakable. You keep an eye on him the best you can, but Finnick splashing around is distracting.
He stretches, slowly, testing his limbs to see if they’re working properly. Gradually, he begins to swim, which is mesmerizing to watch. It’s nothing like the way you were taught to. There’s a rhythm, a pace. He dives, surfaces, rolls like a log of wood in water. He sprays from his mouth, and then he’ll sit underwater for minutes at a time.
When he finally comes back up, he looks better than he did earlier. He pushes his hair out of his face, walking in your direction.
You offer him a smile, “Feeling better?”
“Considerably.” He says, eyes finding the pin on your tank top. He touches it, squinting slightly. “Left the token, huh?”
“He knew I’d grab it.” You wave him off. “Let’s go help him, he’s going to need the spile.”
Finnick leads the way into the jungle, you follow behind him, fiddling with the necklace. He holds the trident to his side, the pole bouncing off his thigh when he takes steps too hard. You briefly look away to pop the locket clasp open, suddenly afraid that the fog might’ve damaged the delicate photos inside. You slam straight into Finnick’s back, having to catch yourself on his shoulder.
A question raises on your tongue, but he presses a finger against his lips to keep you quiet. He looks upward, into the branches that belong to the trees that hang above you lowly. You follow his gaze curiously, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of what’s been watching you.
You press your lips together, your left hand falling from your necklace, and your right readjusting the sword in your hand. There’s a mass of orange monkeys weighing down the branches. More than just five or ten, there’s easily two dozen, sitting there, waiting for one wrong move.
This isn’t the first time you’ve seen them. There was a pair of them right after you’d escaped the fog, Peeta had pointed them out. Those ones retreated, not wanting anything to do with the three of you. These ones don’t have any intentions on leaving.
“Peeta,” Your voice wavers slightly, Finnick glances at you. You take a breath, “I need your help with something on the beach.”
“Just a minute (Y/n). I think I’ve just about got it.” He tells you, still occupied with the tree. “Have you got the spile?”
“I do, but we’ve found something you might want to see.” You murmur, noticing how the monkeys are reacting to Peeta’s movements. They don’t care if you move. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”
“I don’t want to lose the tree.”
“We won’t, we’ll be right back.” You tell him, motioning for him to come toward you.
He lets out a sigh, but listens. You chew on the inside of your cheek, listening to the noise he’s making. Still, the monkeys don’t move, because that’s not what causes them to be aggressive. He’s only five yards from the beach, when his movements become stiff, eyes darting up for a second.
It’s enough. The shrieking begins, as the monkeys all begin to move at an impossible speed to jump at him. They slide down vines, leaping large distances, fangs bared, claws shooting out. One word comes to mind.
“Mutts!” You snap, shoving past Finnick to get to Peeta.
You swing the sword carelessly, hitting the vital parts of the monkeys the best you can with the amount flying out of the trees. When you make it to Peeta, the two of you switch weapons, him slapping the knife into your hand for you to take so he can begin to do real damage with the sword.
Peeta’s got a better technique, bringing down almost as much as Finnick is with the trident. He’ll spear the mutts, and then fling them aside, off into the trees. The three of you form a triangle formation, trying to kill them efficiently. Only, you can’t keep up with your knife, they’re forced to cover you.
You feel a pair of teeth sink into your thigh before Peeta’s slicing through the throat, forcing the jaws to unhinge. The air grows heavy, from the trampled plants, the scent of blood, and the musty stink of the monkey mutts that hound you.
Peeta swings at one of them, and instead of landing the hit, the monkey secures the sword, and throws it into the trees, permanently making it out of the question. Then, it grabs a tight hold of Peeta’s arm, and swings him out of the formation, in the open. Where another monkey spots this, sprinting for the kill.
You begin to run for him, throwing the knife at the mutt that’s racing you. The mutt manages to dodge the attack, and you’re about to throw yourself at Peeta to save him, when someone else beats you to it, first. A woman materializes out of a tree, screaming loudly as she throws herself into the monkey, arms wrapping around its body.
It sinks its fangs into her chest.
Finnick’s trident hits the monkey with such force that it makes a loud squelching sound when the trident collides with its body. The mutt releases its jaw, Peeta kicking the body off.
“Come on, then!” Peeta shouts. “Come on!”
The mutts don’t seem to be interested anymore, retreating into the trees the same way they had done before. You reach to grab Peeta, hands shaking, when he suddenly points toward the beach, eyes hard.
“Go.”
Your mouth pops open, eyebrows drawing in, but you don’t argue, walking the five yards out of the jungle, onto the beach. The two boys follow behind you, with Finnick carrying the woman, who you’re able to recognize as the morphling from District Six, when you get a good look at her.
Finnick lays her in the sound, and Peeta follows behind him with your knife. He kneels next to her, cutting open the wetsuit that covers her chest, revealing the four deep wounds. Her blood is slowly emerging out of them, staining her skin. You’d say she’s fine, if it weren’t for the damage the monkeys did inside of her body.
She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. This could mean a punctured lung, maybe even her heart. Her skin is shaded a sickly green, sagging to reveal each one of her ribs. This is caused by years of abusing the pain medication.
She takes your hand shakily, squeezing tightly to ground herself. You lean over her, moving the hair out of her face.
“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says before walking away.
Peeta settles in the sand, voice soft, “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.”
She stares at Peeta, hanging on to every word.
“One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.”
Her breathing is growing shallow, calming, dying. Her free hand dips into the wound on her chest, touching the blood as she swirls it on her skin, the same way she had in the Training Center.
“I haven’t figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air.”
She lifts up the bloodied hand, painting a flower on Peeta’s cheek.
“Thank you,” He whispers. “That looks beautiful.”
Her face lights up, as she makes a small squeaking sound. And then her hand falls back onto her chest, giving out her last huff of air. The cannon fires. Her hand loosens in yours.
You sit there in the sand, watching as Peeta carries her into the water, carefully settling her on her back. She floats toward the Cornucopia, and when the Gamemakers are sure she’s a good distance away, the hovercraft appears to take her away. The claw drops, carrying her into the night sky, and she’s gone.
You get to your feet when Peeta comes back your way, but with the look on his face, you’re not exactly eager to touch him.
“What were you thinking?” He asks you. “Running at me like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Your mouth opens as you shake your head. “I—the mutt was coming right for you, I thought—”
“You thought what, (Y/n)? You were going to kill it with this?” He asks, holding your knife out for you to see. It’s stained red, sand sticking to the blood that refuses to dry. “Oh no, that’s right, you threw it at the mutt.”
You stare at him. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“No, not okay!” he shouts. “Were you even thinking?”
“I just—”
“I don’t need you trying to be the hero.” He tells you. “I had it handled.”
“I’m sorry, Peeta.”
“Don’t do it again.” He says, shaking his head. “It’s hard enough keeping you safe when you’re not running into danger. So don’t start doing it on purpose.”
“I won’t.”
He looks over your face, judging whether or not you’re being truthful, when his eyes dip toward your chest. His face smooths, holding his hand out, palm up. “Give me the pin.”
Wordlessly, you unhook it from the cloth and place it in his hand. “I didn’t want to lose it.”
“That’s fine.” He says, closing the distance between the two of you. He directs your chin up carefully, raising his eyebrows. “You know I love you.”
“I know.” You whisper. “I’ll be more careful.”
He presses a kiss to the middle of your forehead. “That’s all I ask.”
this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!! everyone is welcome to join :)
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Who was the worst in The Hunger Games, snow or coin?
Why?
Thank you. @curiousnonny
Oh, man.
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I have a *lot* of feelings on this particular subject (one of my favorite things about THG trilogy is that it places in the antagonist role two good examples of my most loathed types of villains: politicians kidding but not really), so thanks for the ask!
Coin:
While I personally despise her subtle, lay-low/don't-strike-until-you-see-the-whites-of-their-eyes approach, I respect her commitment to winning, and I love that she was the one who got to unseat Snow.
That being said...I can't forgive her for the win-at-all-costs mindset that led her to use some of the most morally-reprehensible tactics I can think of when it comes to fighting (torturing citizens, trying to send a possible political rival to their death, sending the family member of said possible rival to an all but certain doom simply to eliminate the rival's will to live, treating The Other Side's children as expendable, etc.). I think she represents one of the most dangerous types of villains you see (both in fiction and in real life) because she presents herself as the sane, moderate, People's Champion type of leader who stands in opposition to oppression and brutality, but the regime she presents is simply severe and restrictive in different ways she's not advertising, and she is every bit as willing to sit back and watch people die as long as they are not her people...also, she truly doesn't care who she steps on, kicks aside, or ruins in her (quiet) quest for power.
[I also have this theory that she's named Coin because she and Snow have this two-sides-to-the-same-coin duality and we're meant to understand that while she's coming at things from a different angle than Snow, she has the same hunger for power and ruthless desire to maintain stability no matter the human cost.]
Snow:
[Another quick side note: I am a huge proponent of TBOSAS. It's my favorite villain origin story (Marissa Meyer's Fairest is probably the only other book that comes close for me), and I personally think it's Suzanne's Collins' best work and everyone should read it because it shows the fine line/slippery slope between a mindset of understandable self-preservation and the sort of arrogance-driven inhumanity that leads people into committing atrocities against each other or standing back and allowing the atrocities to happen. I will literally never NOT recommend this book but, that being said, I'm not going to reference Snow's actions in this book as they occur outside the realm of THG trilogy.]
While I allow a grudging respect for his logic, strategic efficiency, and commitment to being straightforward/open with Katniss about his dislike for her, I hate Snow's cruelty with a burning passion, and his utter contempt for people he deems "lesser" makes my blood absolutely boil. Yes, pragmatism is a thing. Yes, it is difficult being a leader. Yes, leaders do sometimes face a choice between saving the lives of many at the cost of a few.
But the thing about Snow is that he is simply intent on maintaining power whatever the (human) cost and to me, that crosses a line. No, he isn't the creator of the Games, but he does hold the power to end them. Does he end them? No. Instead, he not only chooses to keep them going, but deliberately finds ways to change the rules in his own favor, thus making an already-unfair, practically hopeless situation that much more unfair and hopeless. To intimidate the districts/instill fear in all citizens outside the Capitol, he makes sure they remember that they are only allowed to exist because of the Capitol's mercy, and that if they want to be allowed to keep that existence, they will have to abide by the Capitol's terms. Sending children into the Games as a form of punishment would be barbaric enough if it were just after the districts' uprising but, as we know from the books, that's not even the case...the children who are being killed in the games are the descendants of the original rebel districts, so forcing them to pay for the supposed sins of their grandparents/possible great-grandparents is beyond evil.
Also, there's this other thing his actions ultimately engineer/shape, and that's the twisted Capitol reality. Like all smart-but-evil dictators, he doesn't just rely on the weeding out of his enemies/the intimidation of the group he has declared "lesser." He also uses the Capitol citizens and their (very natural, very human) desire for peace and prosperity to create allies for himself by reinforcing this idea of Us vs Them, by drawing a distinction between Capitol children (precious, must be protected at all costs) and District children (expendable, animalistic, Other™ ). It's not a new tactic; it's one all kinds of groups/armies/organizations/governments use to engender hate and distrust, but it's a highly effective one in a world like the Capitol, where everyday life is so shiny and fun and distracting that it's easy for people to detach themselves from the reality that they're watching 24 children murder each other every year. And the thing about that, even if the Capitol citizens don't know it (or pretend not to know it), is that Snow encouraging them to celebrate the Games and view the districts as less than human is also costing the Capitol citizens their humanity in return (aka, panem et circenses, where you shelve or hand over your morality in exchange for food/comfort/entertainment etc.). So, altogether, while Snow is not actively getting his hands dirty by killing people himself (excluding those poison deaths, possibly), he is routinely arranging the murders of innocents, recruiting and corrupting (or destroying) everyone he possibly can, and he's doing it all in the name of peace.
All of those things combined pretty much enrages me, so ultimately, my opinion boils down to this:
Both Coin and Snow are effective leaders and terrible people whose desire for power and control push them into crossing lines that should not be crossed. But out of the two, Snow is the worst.
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faetreides · 2 months
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i’m thinking about modern!coryo again… ‘n the way he’d just love humiliating you. when you’ve been particularly bratty (let’s be real, any time you tell him no he thinks you’re being defiant… no matter the circumstances), he loves to shove your face into the mattress so your ass is facing him, and grip your hips, teasing his cock against your entrance until you’re whining and begging for him to fuck you. but he doesn’t! he just lets his cock slap against your clit and tease your slick hole until you’re soaking your panties. his favourite thing though, is filming you take his cock, because even though he’d never let anybody see the videos (besides maybe his friends), he gets off on the way you’re whining for him to put the phone away as he fills you up, pearly cum sliding down your soft thighs. but he won’t, because he just loves the way you’re absolutely humiliated at the thought of somebody seeing how much of a whore you are for him
CW: anal, sejanus mention (throuple au tease), typical coryo type warnings, yandere/possessive & obsessive behavior, gn reader but there is feminization (reader calls themselves a "good girl", coryo calls your pussy "sweet girl" & assigns it she/her pronouns), blood (coryo has a fantasy of you tearing), accidental slight pet play/dumbification, my modern coryo's typical inability to understand/care about poor(er) people, the ending is inspired by ghostface's finishing move in dbd, implied plus sized reader (who's afab) he loves you really.
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So true, you could do something as small as say “i want to be alone in the bathroom for 5 minutes” and he’d lose his shit. Something about that arrogant rich boy behavior turned up to 100 because he’s inherently a psycho….. like he loves you deeply but wdym his prized possession has a mind of their own (if you just decided to do everything he wants, he’d support you making your own decisions). His whole vibe was being untouchable and unavailable but now it’s coming apart. Like do you know how much he planned to hoe around when his family inevitably made him get married??? But now you’ve fucked it all up and made him feel like he’s constantly writhing around in every circle of hell fr.
So yeah, he can’t take it if he feels like you aren’t “putting in as much effort” as he is. And i don’t mean that he’d be pissed if you’re not cooking or cleaning, i mean that he’d be peeved if you weren’t matching his energy (batshit balls to wall insane). He’ll do a little cute open palm wave like “Hi, baby 🥰” when you look at him over your shoulder with tears in your eyes. King of false sympathy with all the cooing and mocking your facial expression (which you wouldn’t even have to make if you were behaving). His weird ass is completely naked even though he made you keep your clothes on, and he tore a hole in your leggings with his teeth for easy access.
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He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.
The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.
You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.
A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.
"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"
"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.
Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.
It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.
C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)
"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.
The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.
Welcome Home.
The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.
"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."
His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.
Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.
"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.
You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.
You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.
You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.
Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.
"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."
Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.
You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.
Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.
You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).
His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.
He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.
"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.
It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.
But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.
"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"
His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.
You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.
"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."
You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.
He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.
"Smile, petal."
The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)
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faetreides 2024. request rules. please consider tipping/reblogging if you enjoyed!
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softchouli · 1 year
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kvtnisseverdeen · 5 months
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It's okay. I am gonna get you out of here. I promise. Back to the Covey, okay?
THE HUNGER GAMES: THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES (2023) dir. Francis Lawrence
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delete this if you find it weird or confusing 🙏
But headcanons of what snow (old) would act like if he saw the granddaughter of his first love that he betrayed or something , like she looks exactly like her and she’s been chosen for the games
Reminder of His First Love | Coriolanus Snow Headcanons
Warning/s: Old!Snow, mentions of death, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: OMG THIS IS AMAZINGG!! I really tried and I truly hope that I did this justice it deserves and I'm sorry if this is not what you had on mind. Enjoy!
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So you're a granddaughter of one and only songbird, Lucy Gray Baird.
After she escaped form Snows clutches, she made it look like she was dead just so he could leave her alone forever.
Her heart broke from his betrayal.
She moved to the furthest part of the District 12 once she returned back home.
She tried to live her life to the fullest after everything that happened.
Later on she married a nice man from her District and they had a son.
She sadly passed away not long after.
However, her spirit lived on and passed itself upon her dear granddaughter who she sadly never met.
She would've been proud if she knew you.
Your father always told you that you were your grandmother's clone.
And boy was that true.
Your face, your hair, your voice, the way you carried yourself... everything was just like Lucy Gray.
Your mom always used to joke that she was reincarnated in came back as you.
And just like your grandmother, you got picked for the Hunger Games as a female tribute from District 12.
President Snow was sipping on his tea as he watched the reaping ceremony and he could swear that his heart stopped beating for a moment once he saw you in a colorful dress as you stepped up.
He tried to not think of Lucy Gray Baird for a long time, now imagine his shock when she stepped onto that stage once again.
Once the interviews came and you were interviewed by Caesar Flickerman a usual question came up.
"What is your talent?"
You stopped to think for a moment and answered without hesitation.
"I can sing." You smiled at him and then looked at the crowd. "I know that it may not help me much in the arena, but I'm really good at it."
Snow thought that you proved that, alright.
You formed alias whith Foxface in the arena.
As she died you held her in your arms as you sang her to sleep.
"No, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping..."
Snow was frozen in his seat.
During the games, he found it hard to watch them somehow.
It was perfectly clear that Lucy Gray came back to haunt him and destroy him.
And boy did she do exactly that.
He never would have thought that Lucy Gray's daughter would become the leader of the rebellion.
He should've explained it, though.
The rebells won and you were supposed to be the one to execute Snow.
The words that you told him once you met up with him before his execution echoed in his mind until the moment he died.
"I am absolutely repulsed by you."
With that, Lucy Gray's clone left him speechless.
He couldn't believe that after all those years she still affected him.
But you now what they say, you never forget your firsts.
Pretty soon he was tied up against the pole as you stood a few feet away from him.
"You're as pure as the driven snow." You mocked him before you let the arrow fly, ripping through the air.
It seems like Lucy Gray's mockingjays did harm him after all.
->
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TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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moon-mirage · 11 months
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“No, wait,” says Finnick. “Let's do it together. Put our faces right in front of his.”
Well, there's so little opportunity for fun left in my life, I agree. We position ourselves on either side of Peeta, lean over until our faces are inches from his nose, and give him a shake. “Peeta. Peeta, wake up,” I say in a soft, singsong voice.
His eyelids flutter open and then he jumps like we've stabbed him. “Aa!”
Finnick and I fall back in the sand, laughing our heads off.
When I recently reread the series, this moment was just pure gold. It was so funny and silly but it also felt so earned among the rest of the books and it’s such a great way to start off their alliance. They deserved this moment so much.
Also, it’s not mentioned that they’re making faces but I couldn’t resist and had so much fun with it. :D
EDIT: OMG I just realised I screwed up the reading direction!  I have no idea how that happened and I noticed just when I was about to post it. Well, it’s a manga now?! 🙈
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