#the moon and the President's wife

[causalityparadoxes]

The Moon and the President's Wife // BOOM

Bonus:

[expelliarmus]

[theangelshavethephonebox]

Ik a lot of people subscribe to the idea that the President's Daughter was Susan, but I never see anyone talking about how this clearly makes the TARDIS "the moon".

[beautifulscreaminglady]

CLARA: Since when do you care about the Doctor?

MISSY: Since always. Since the Cloister Wars. Since the night he stole the moon and the President's wife. Since he was a little girl. One of those was a lie. Can you guess which one?

THE DOCTOR (singing): I went down to the beach and there she stood. Tall and dark at the edge of the wood. "The sky's too big, I'm scared," I cried. She replied, "Young man, don't you know there's more to life than the moon and the president's wife?"

[bingqiv]

it’s just the way that the doctor still tragically loves the master despite everything.

the master has destroyed their planet and violated their people in the worst way possible and yet they’re still intrinsically entwined for eternity.

the master is who he thinks about when there’s a chance he may die and the master is who he thinks about when he survives.

missy said “my heart is maintained by the doctor” and i do think that’s mutual. the doctor’s hearts are maintained by the master, they always have been and always will be.

[twelveskidneys]

sooo do we think that mundy flynn & the upcoming companion is a “martha and her cousin adeola” situation, an “echoes of clara oswald” situation or, if the theory is true, a “susan also visits kastarion 3 and decides to take mundy’s face while regenerating” situation?

[oceanmonsters]

actually crying at this reddit post I want to believe it’s real so badly and also hope this woman finds someone who deserves her

[handern]

remember the guy who learned his visit of the docks in english using my own written script of the museum in?

not only did he fuck it up three times in a row, he has another one scheduled today with me and he doesn't know that bc he doesn't check the schedule, and I made it clear that I did not study for it

since, you know, he's been working here for 10 years and already did that visit three times :)

[cidnangarlond]

I need to write more Cid and Fortuna stuff. sorely lacking in that department

[causalityparadoxes]

I am absolutely incorporating the "Moon and the President's wife poem" into my understanding of the Doctor and the Master btw.

I went down to the beach and there she stood. Dark and tall at the edge of the woods.

"The sky's too big, I'm scared," I cried.

She replied "Young man, don't you know there's more to life than the Moon and the President's wife?"

I cant help but read it as a snippet of a conversation. The Doctor and Master talking after the incident with the Moon and the President's wife daughter. Both still on Gallifrey. Both rebels, causing so much trouble but not yet taking the step to leave.

The sky is too big. The universe too wide. I'm scared to leave. The young man on the beach, clearly the Doctor. Young and afraid, the boy who ran away from what he saw in the Schism. Who wants adventure but had stayed content to mess around with Presidents daughters. Who needed a push to steal that Tardis and run away.

Then the other. On the edge of the woods, already on the cusp of the unknown (Woods are always an adventure in stories). One foot already out the door. A dark and tall figure, telling the one on the beach to just come on. Don't you know there is more to life than the Moon and the President's wife?

The Master, abstracted through the story as Missy. The one who lied about who he stole. The figure who stood in the woods, and who fell in the woods. Just on the cusp of everything.

A promise to run, there's so much more, lets find out what lies in that big sky.

A promise that was never acted on.

A series of events abstracted through layers of fiction, shabogan rumour, and fairytale. A story that helped the Doctor calm down right before death, twice. When nothing else could.

Even now after everything, being saved and kept alive by thoughts of the Master.

I cannot and will not ever shut up about it.

[specialagentartemis]

in middle school during my Intense Greek Mythology Phase, Artemis was, as you can likely guess, my best girl. Iphigenia was my OTHER best girl. Yes at the same time.

The story of Iphigenia always gets to me when it's not presented as a story of Artemis being capricious and having arbitrary rules about where you can and can't hunt, but instead, making a point about war.

Artemis was, among other things--patron of hunting, wild places, the moon, singlehood--the protector of young girls. That's a really important aspect she was worshipped as: she protected girls and young women. But she was the one who demanded Agamemnon sacrifice his daughter in order for his fleet to be able to sail on for Troy.

There's no contradiction, though, when it's framed as, Artemis making Agamemnon face what he’s doing to the women and children of Troy. His children are not in danger. His son will not be thrown off the ramparts, his daughters will not be taken captive as sex slaves and dragged off to foreign lands, his wife will not have to watch her husband and brothers and children killed. Yet this is what he’s sailing off to Troy to inevitably do. That’s what happens in war. He’s going to go kill other people’s daughters; can he stand to do that to his own? As long as the answer is no—he can kill other people’s children, but not his own—he can’t sail off to war.

Which casts Artemis is a fascinating light, compared to the other gods of the Trojan War. The Trojan War is really a squabble of pride and insults within the Olympian family; Eris decided to cause problems on purpose, leaving Aphrodite smug and Hera and Athena snubbed, and all of this was kinda Zeus’s fault in the first place for not being able to keep it in his pants. And out of this fight mortal men were their game pieces and mortal cities their prizes in restoring their pride. And if hundreds of people die and hundred more lives are ruined, well, that’s what happens when gods fight. Mortals pay the price for gods’ whims and the gods move on in time and the mortals don’t and that’s how it is.

And women especially—Zeus wanted Leda, so he took her. Paris wanted Helen, so he took her. There’s a reason “the Trojan women” even since ancient times were the emblems of victims of a war they never wanted, never asked for, and never had a say in choosing, but was brought down on their heads anyway.

Artemis, in the way of gods, is still acting through human proxies. But it seems notable to me to cast her as the one god to look at the destruction the war is about to wreak on people, and challenge Agamemnon: are you ready to kill innocents? Kill children? Destroy families, leave grieving wives and mothers? Are you? Prove it.

It reminds me of that idea about nuclear codes, the concept of implanting the key in the heart of one of the Oval Office staffers who holds the briefcase, so the president would have to stab a man with a knife to get the key to launch the nukes. “That’s horrible!,” it’s said the response was. “If he had to do that, he might never press the button!” And it’s interesting to see Artemis offering Agamemnon the same choice. You want to burn Troy? Kill your own daughter first. Show me you understand what it means that you’re about to do.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

In Boom, the Doctor recites a poem about the moon and the President's wife. This is intriguing, considering that Missy told Clara that she had cared about the Doctor "since the night he stole the moon and the President's wife" in The Magician's Apprentice. However, in Hell Bent, the Doctor claimed that that story had been a lie. Instead, it had been the President's daughter and that he had lost the moon.

Later on, in Rogue, we saw an image of the Shalka Doctor among the Doctor’s other faces. This is relevant because the Shalka Doctor had fallen in love with the President's daughter while he was on Gallifrey, but she had been killed by an alien race. The Master had aided the Doctor in repelling this alien race but had lost his physical body in the process, leading to the Doctor building him an android body. As a result of the President's daughter's death, the Doctor and the Master were sent on dangerous missions by the Time Lords that retreated into the Matrix. The transfer of the Master's consciousness into an android body ties into The Time of the Doctor, when the Doctor mentioned that he had had an android boyfriend. In this essay, I-

[kaetor]

Um. Missy with the gender-fluid flag. If you would be so kind

hi i put these two together because i've been having emotions about the moon and the president's wife bit from boom

[lqveharrington]

Holidays | C.S.

summary: your first holiday/christmas outside of the districts

pairing: politician!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: mainly fluff, reader is from district 12 (this is very important in this one-shot), coriolanus is manipulative in this (not a lot, but still), angst if you squint.

a/n: happy holidays 🎄

Despite living in the Capitol, your spirits were up when the holidays came around. Those living at the Capitol had many decorations up and participated in festivities that would certainly get those in the districts in trouble.

As the chosen wife of — the sudden rise to power and wealth — Coriolanus Snow, you were also put into the impression that you were to make this holiday season the best for you and your husband.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Coriolanus told you that he was to work late, strategizing to help his campaign as he was running for president next year. Of course, you were used to this and gave him a kiss bye as you started your day with the festivities that you used to do back in your home.

By the time Coriolanus came home, it was late and he assumed you were sleeping already. What he did not know was that you were still in the kitchen baking cookies and decorating gingerbread house while playing music from your record collection.

“Why are you still up so late?” Coriolanus wrapped his arms around your hips, resting his head on your shoulder.

You grin at his presence, shifting to meet his eyes. “I wanted to surprise you with cookies and a pretty gingerbread house.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” He kisses your cheek.

“I would like to think so.” You pop a gum drop into your mouth, taking one of your earlier cookies you made from the counter. “Want some?”

He hummed, opening his mouth. You broke a piece off and gave it to him, waiting for a reaction of some sort.

“Well?”

“It’s delicious.” He swallowed, reaching for the rest of the cookie in your hand. “I think I should take them all.”

You let out an airy laugh, handing him the baked good. “I think you should help me decorate this house so we can go to bed. I’m sure you’re tired, Coryo.”

———

“What are you doing now?” Coriolanus asked you as he got out of the bathroom, hair still wet. He brought the a towel to his head, watching you stand outside on the balcony. “My love, you’re going to catch a cold staying out there.”

“I know…” You mess with your silk robe, rubbing the sleeve with your thumb. “Just give me a few more seconds. I want to check off the last thing I used to do back in 12 for Christmas Eve.”

He refrained from scoffing at the mention of District 12, slipping one arm around your waist. “You don’t remember how bad it was back there before I saved you? Why do things that bring back memories of those days being treated like a peasant?”

You stayed quiet, listening to his words intently.

“I believe you should be grateful you aren’t spending time in the freezing weather and instead participate in the fun activities in the Capitol. Where you belong.” He pecked your cheek. “Unless you want to go back… Then that can easily be arranged.”

“No, don’t.” You frown, looking up at the shining moon. “I love it here. A lot. And, I’m really grateful for it, really.”

“Good answer.” He runs his hand up to your chin, tilting it so you would face him. “Just this one thing and then come to bed, okay?”

You nod, pecking his lips. “Thank you… Love you.”

Coriolanus smiles at you, pressing one last tentative kiss to your lips and leaving for the bed, not bothering to take the time to understand what you were doing.

Leaning against the cement railings, your focus moves back to the bright moon, smiling sadly at it.

“I promise I’ll be back and see you again…” You whisper into the crisp, night air, the wind lightly blowing at your skin. “We’ll be okay. Just watch over mom for me. I’ll see you both again.”

You check your watch for the time, the second hand hitting the twelve. “From your somewhat cool older sister: Merry Christmas, Dante Everdeen.”

read more about coriolanus snow here !!

a/n pt2: MING BLOWING 🤯 she’s related to katniss, isn’t that silly :)

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[anisangeldust]

Pretty when you cry 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: feelings are hard.

Pairing: young politician!Coriolanus x Fem!reader

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Coriolanus is stressed and needs you, emotional vulnerability, mentions of parental loss, crying.

A/N: just some heart-achy fluff bc I’m in the mood to coddle someone rn🎀

Masculinity and Bravado were drilled into the brain of Panems president since the day he was born, festering like an infection, multiplying like an invasion, until all he could feel was shame for feeling.

So often he’d find himself teary eyed, chanting soliloquies of “Men don’t cry, you aren’t weak, crying makes you weak.” like mantras around his apartment, such nonsense that those superior used to undermine his naturally empathetic soul.

It wasn’t until many moons later that he crossed your sacred path, your mere presence a soothing compress on his aching heart. Little by little, you cleared his night skies from its once insurmountable peril, the darkness that had consumed his soul was no longer seeping through his core, instead it soaked through his eyes, salty drops of crystalline water flowing down his milky cheeks.

At the moment, he was being comforted by his ever so generous and loving wife. The emotions he buried so desperately were now flowing like a river in front of his own personal Aphrodite, a tsunami of emotions flooding his soul, lapping at the weak spots of his delicate being. Never would anyone describe Coriolanus Snow as vulnerable, but right now he was. Your tenderness akin to the mother he lost so long ago, and his trembling frame that of a little boy. This is love in its rawest form, the ability to express vulnerability without judgement, the thing Coriolanus so clearly craved his whole adolescence.

Heaven was breaking down in your arms, having a rough day and coming home to you, the woman he loved with every ounce of his being, to have you hold his face and tell him it was all going to be okay; your murmured words like a warm compress on his aching heart.

So often he reminded himself that he was allowed to have bad days, being president was draining, and the cracks in his mask were deepening, he could no longer hide from the flood, he had to just make sure he didn’t drown. Luckily you were his life boat. Despite all his hard work, sometimes the darkness prevails, dawning cloaks of false serendipity, only to shed its light and consume your dignity. The darkness that clouds his vision, creeps into the corners of his mind, dampens his thinking, the darkness only you can cut through. He beam of light, his saving grace.

Coriolanus was a blubbering mess, your fingers running in his platinum curls a reminder that he was safe, that he was going to be okay. Slowly, he lifted his head from your chest and sniffled.

“I don’t deserve you..” he murmured, eyes red and puffy from crying so hard.

“Shhh, just lay on me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you” you cooed, pressing his face back into the soft fat of your chest. As to which he happily complied.

The muscles of his shirtless back were relaxed, melting into you and your warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around your middle and hugged you like you were going to disappear if he let go, you were his most precious gem, a beauty unmatched by the most divine beings, a goddess amongst men, and Coriolanus was your most devoted apostle.

Slowly, his breathing regained stability, his pink lips no longer quivering, chest no longer heaving. You peppered his teary cheeks with kisses as he calmed down slowly. His mind slipping form consciousness as he fell asleep.

“I love you” he croaked gently, voice rough and tone uneven, the most vulnerable state Coriolanus Snow could be in, the one reserved for you.

“I love you too baby boy, so much. Now sleep, it’ll all be okay” you mutter as he flutters his eyes closed and lays on you completely, your own personal weighted blanket.

Coriolanus was truly sculpted by the gods, how else would he be so pretty when he cries?

[slutforsnow]

*evil laugh*

imagine president!coryo with a bratty!reader. Coryo hates when people talk back to him or tell him what to do.

Since he's president, nobody tells HIM what to do. expect reader🙈

"don't talk to me like that."

"aw, did i make you mad? didn't know the president was a little cry baby."

then he fucks readers brains out <3

Hold Your Tongue

Cw/TW: Coryo is his own warning tbh 💀, spanking, slut shaming? (HE WOULD), inappropriate use of piss, mean!Coryo, president!Coryo

As much as Coryo loves his dear wife, she could be a bratty bitch. Thinking she could run her mouth off to her little friends about how much their sex life had gone down since he became president and now had to attend all these fancy balls, galas, parties, and whatnot. Sure, it was nice to see his wife all dressed up like a doll and looking sexy, but running her mouth off? That was over the line.

That's how the couple landed in this situation. She had begun to run her pretty little mouth again, and one of her friends had said something along the lines of divorce.

The second the young president of Panem had ensured all the guests had left, he had bound his wife to their shared bed by her wrists, using the special handcuffs he had made for them; engraved with his last name to make sure she understood her punishment. She was also stripped of her dress and lingerie she had worn underneath it.

"I cannot believe you would allow your friends to say something so stupid," He began, slowly unbuttoning his red corset-vest. "Of all the things you had to let slide, it was a topic of divorce?"

"What's so bad about it? She was joking and drunk, I doubt she'll remember it, Coryo," She retorted, pouting a little and tugging wrists forward to try and free herself. Coryo had a tendency go purposely leave the cuffs loose enough for her so she could claw at his back, leaving red marks and little crescent moons from her nails. This time, however, the cuffs were tight enough to where she could barely wiggle her wrists. "Now, loosen the cuffs, I wanna get my makeup off!"

He didn't take lightly to her demanding tone. "Don't talk to me like that," He spat, dropping his vest on the floor, which was soon followed by his dress shirt.

"Awh, did I make you mad? I didn't know the president was a-" She was cut off by a sharp THAWCK against her skin.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. She knew Coryo was pissed, but to spank her with his belt on her thigh?

"I told you not to speak to me like that. Now look at you; crying like a little whore because I punished you like one. Don't you dare cry because there's going to be a lot more where that came from," He threatened, glaring down at her. Before she could think, Coryo raised his arm again and another thwack echoed in their bedroom.

"Now, I think we need to revisit a certain setting," He added, tossing his belt to the side and kicking his dress pants to the side, along with his black boxers.

"Wha- huh-" She questioned, semi-dazed from getting spanked only twice. Whatever strength ran through his veins really knocked the wind out of her and replaced it with dopamine.

"Don't play dumb," He chided, slamming his leaking member into her tight cunt causing her to let out a loud cry of pleasure. He continued his harsh pace while pinching and twisting her hard nipples as he marked her neck and collarbone with hickies.

All she could do while he overstimulated her body was moan, mewl, and scream his name. He was fucking the brattiness out of her, reducing her into a brainless whore, but did he care? No, he didn't care. She was going to learn one way or another.

Feeling her walls squeeze and grip on his cock, he smirked, pounding faster into her, pressing a hand to her lower abdomen. Something felt off about it this time; he could feel the bulge, which was normal, but it happened.

As Coryo was fucking his wife's brains out, she pissed while she came and he stopped his ruthless fucking. As y/n was coming down from her sex high, babbling utter nonsense, Coryo watched piss and cum leak from her folds leak onto the bed.

It was... entertaining.

Smirking to himself, he decided to continue fucking himself balls deep into her cunt, which resulted in more cries of pleasure, well more of pain this time, as he fucked y/n harder than ever before. He had to watch it again, no matter how many times it took.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings