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swiftieblyth · 1 day

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Troublesome Twin:

Warning list-

hunger games warning, abusive family, mother died in childbirth with the twins, Arachne, Coriolanus Snow, Dr. Gaul, violence, and murder.

I think that’s all, let me know if there’s more!

Word count- 1075

Coryo and Y/N got out of the car to Dr. Gaul’s office. Y/N was struggling to stay awake from the dagger in her leg and the blood seeping out.

“We’re here, love.” Coryo whispered, picking her up bridal style and carrying her to Dr. Gaul’s office.

“Snow stormed down, down on his head.” Dr. Gaul let out. “It stormed down on his head, and now the boy is…” Dr. Gaul laughed then sighed when she didn’t get the response she wanted. (She hasn’t seen Y/N’s leg yet. Don’t worry she’s not ignoring her injured god-daughter. I’m not that mean) “You’ve had enough of the Games tonight, I see. Come, sit. I’ll stitch you up.”

“Take care of Y/N first.” Coryo ordered, walking over to Dr. Gaul.

“Y/N?” Dr. Gaul asked. “What happened to her?”

“She has a dagger stuck in her leg.” Coryo explained.

“Oh dear. Come on.” Dr. Gaul ordered, walking to a lab table. “Lay her down.”

Coryo did as he was told and carefully put Y/N down on the table.

“Coryo…” Y/N slurred.

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” He cooed, brushing some hair out of her face. “Dr. Gaul is going to help you.”

“What about you?”

“She’ll help me after you.”

“Alright my dear,” Dr. Gaul gently let out, putting gloves on. “This is going to hurt, but I need you to stay awake. Hold Mr. Snow’s hand.”

“O–okay.”

Dr. Gaul started to remove the dagger and Y/N started to cry in pain, holding tighter onto Coryo. “Stop! Please stop!” She begged.

“I’m sorry my dear. I’m almost done.” Dr. Gaul explained. “Just let me do one more pull and then I’ll stitch you up.”

“Hey, it’s okay, love.” Coryo cut in. “Once it’s out it’s going to feel better, and it will start to heal.”

“And you can get fixed.”

“Yeah. Once you’re taken care of Dr. Gaul will help take care of me.”

“Okay.” Y/N breathed.

Dr. Gaul was able to take out the dagger and stitch her leg up. Y/N was now laid down on the ground head resting on Coryo’s legs as she slept.

He moved his fingers around her hair as Dr. Gaul started to stitch his shoulder.

“Who could imagine Crassus Snow’s baby boy fighting for his life in the arena one day? What happened in there, that’s humanity undressed. Fueled with the terror of becoming prey, see how quickly we become predator. See how quickly civilization disappears.”

“Those tributes don’t have a choice.” Coryo let out, looking at Y/N.

“I was talking about you.” Gaul explained. “All your fine manners, education, background, stripped away in the blink of an eye, leaving a boy with a club who beats another boy to death to stay alive.”

“He tried to kill my girlfriend.” Coryo breathed, feeling the tears form as he watched Y/N sleep peacefully on his legs.

“You wanna protect people, Mr. Snow? To govern them like your father?”

“I want to keep Y/N safe.”

“Then it’s essential you accept what human beings are and what it takes to control them.”

Y/N woke up as Coryo got onto the elevator up to the penthouse, head leaning on his chest as he cradled her.

“Hey, love.” Coryo smiled.

“Hi,” Y/N mumbled. “Are we almost home?”

“Yeah. We’re in the elevator.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s fine, my love,” Coryo let out, kissing her head. “I’ve got you. Once we get home we can go to bed.”

“Okay,” Y/N sighed, resting her head more onto his chest, letting a tear fall as she sniffled.

“What is it, my love?” Coryo asked, looking down at her.

“I was so scared.”

“I know.” Coryo cooed. The elevator stopped and Coryo walked out but stopped right outside the door to their penthouse. “But I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“I thought I was going to die.” Y/N struggled through a strangled sob. “I– I couldn’t breathe. An–and–and then he—he tried to kill me, Coryo.”

“I know, I know.” Coryo cooed, holding her tighter to his chest, resting his chin on her head. “But he didn’t. I’m never going to let anyone ever hurt you again. I promise.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry my love, none of this is your fault.”

“You told me to wait, but I didn’t.”

“Hey, hey, look at me. That doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you're safe.”

“I should’ve just listened to you.”

“Hey, you’re okay. It’s okay. We’re okay. But please never put yourself in danger again. I can’t take it, darling. I need to know you’re okay.”

“I promise.” Y/N sighed. “Can we go to bed now?”

“Of course.”

Coryo opened the door, and softly closed it behind him as Tigris rushed in, feet all over her face.

“They sent us into the arena tonight, Tigris.” Coryo explained, as Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck tighter.

“What?” Tigris gasped, looking between her cousin and his girlfriend.

“To get Sejanus out,” Y/N let out, looking at Tigris.

“What happened? Are you two okay?”

“I killed someone,” Coryo breathed, tears forming in his eyes. “A boy.”

“That must have been awful,” Tigris let out, twisting Y/N’a hair gently in her fingers.

“It was,” Coryo let out, looking down at Y/N’s weak and scared figure as she cried in his arms. “But he was trying to kill Y/N. Then it felt… powerful.”

“Coryo,” Tigris breathed, trying to hide her fear. “I know you want to be like your father but what I remember the most about him was that in his eyes, it was just hate. You don’t have to pay the same price just to survive. People can be good. You can be good. You are good. Just believe in that.”

“Coryo,” Y/N let out, cuddling into his chest as he held one arm around her waist, and the other carefully holding her leg up on his for comfort on the injured leg.

“What is it, my love?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Killing him for me. He was going to kill me if you hadn’t.”

“I know, baby. But I’ve got you, yeah? I’ve always got you. I’ll kill everyone in order to keep you safe.”

“Thank you.” Y/N breathed. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more darling. Now get some rest. You need it.”

tag list here

Tag list: @uglyfish3rman, @Edb954, @joyfulyouthlover,

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neilgaimanlover123 · 4 months

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The Percy Jackson renaissance and The Hunger Games renaissance happening in the same year is something so special to me

#it’s the 2010s all over again #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #thg #president snow #josh hutcherson #percy and annabeth #percy pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show

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nunyabznsbabes · 5 months

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Katniss is like Lucy Gray this, Katniss is like Sejanus that, and yes find that's all good and true and lovely but Katniss Everdeen is also a direct parallel to Coriolanus Snow and people NEED to start talking about this because it's driving me crazy.

Think about it: they both grew up poor and deeply vulnerable, losing parents at a very young age, with a matriarchal adult (Katniss' mother and Coriolanus' Grandma'am) who fails to provide for them emotionally and physically. They intimately understand the threat of starvation, even developing with stunted growth because of it, and their narrations in the books share a fixation on food. Throughout their childhoods, both experienced constant fear and suffered a fundamental lack of control over their circumstances. Because of this, they're inherently suspicious of the people around them. They resent feeling indebted to others, especially those who have saved their lives. They're motivated almost entirely by family and deeply connected to their communities. Both are used and manipulated by the Capitol, both are forced to perform to survive and despise every inch of it, both are thrown into the Arena and made to kill. Both have a self-sacrificial, genuinely sweet sister figure acting as their conscience. Peeta and Lucy Gray - performers and love interests with a fundamental kindness and sense of hope about them - fulfill markedly similar roles in their narrative. Both contribute to the development of the future Hunger Games, Snow throughout tbosas and Katniss towards the end of Mockingjay.

It's easy to ignore these similarities because, as mirrors of each other, they are exact opposites. Katniss is from District 12, viewed and treated as less than human; Snow is the cream of the Capitol crop, given the privilege of a name with social weight, an ancestral home, and the opportunity of the Academy despite having no more money than a miner from 12. Katniss has no agency over her life, and responds by being kind whenever she's able, while Snow justifies horrendous evils in order to continue his quest for complete control. Katniss does everything she can to protect her family; Snow does everything he can to protect his family's image as an extension of his own ego. Katniss loves her District and connects with its inhabitants on a meaningful level, but Snow is indifferent at best to his peers - the apparent "superior people" - and only engages with his community for personal gain. Katniss emerges from the Arena horrified at herself and the system, but Snow takes his trauma and turns it into an excuse to perpetuate the violence with himself at the top. Katniss cares for Prim until her death and then snaps at the loss of her little sister, while Snow survives on Tigris' blood, sweat, and tears and then torments and abandons her, presumably because she calls him out on his insanity. Snow actively adds to and popularizes the Hunger Games because of his vendetta against the Districts following his childhood wartime trauma - Katniss briefly agrees to a new Hunger Games in the pursuit of vengeance, but later stops them from happening by killing Coin and choosing a life of peace and privacy. Snow is obsessed with revenge, but Katniss empathizes with the Capitolites and does what she can to keep them from suffering. He exists in a cruel system and selfishly upholds it; she exists in a cruel system and works to dismantle it for the good of her family and community, at great personal cost. And Peeta and Lucy Gray are incredibly similar, but Katniss and Peeta forge a relationship of genuine love and understanding that shines in comparison to Coriolanus' obsessive projection onto Lucy Gray.

So, yeah, Katniss is Lucy Gray haunting Coriolanus. But I bet you anything that eighty-something year old President Snow looks at her, the girl on fire, bright and young and brilliant, emerging from a childhood of starvation with a relentless hunger for success, a talented and charming performer helping her win the Games, and he sees the ghost of his own past. And that's why he's so afraid of her! Because if he sees himself in her, then he's up against his own cunning, his own talent for manipulation, his own charisma, his own genius. He's up against the version of himself that he once wished to be, with the nightmare army of his childhood at her back and her star-crossed lover at her side, spewing Sejanus' truths in his own voice. This isn't to say that Katniss ever achieved the level of power and agency that Coriolanus did during her time with the rebellion, but it is to say that Snow was taken down by what truly terrified him - his own morality, come to finish the job.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #katniss everdeen #coriolanus snow #president snow #lucy gray baird #peeta mellark #everlark #tbosas meta #the hunger games #thg #snowbaird

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etfrin · 5 months

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⤷❝Can't be Shared | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | somnophilia, mentions of prostitution (Snow was going to 'share' you) cunnilingus, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), possessive af Snow, impact play (he slaps your thigh once), ruined orgasm (you do cum in the end) | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow was going to share you with the elite of the Capitol but changed his mind halfway through only to have his way with you and make you the First Lady of Panem

⇢☾A/N: hehe, the longest fic I have writing so far, hope y'all enjoy this and reblog ;)

He thought he would be okay with it. He was sure he would be okay with it. But he wasn't. Snow's blood boiled when the rich elitist of the capitol had begun to touch you, whisper you praises, and whatnot. The only thing that was going in his mind was his, his, his.

When had he gotten so attached, he wasn't supposed to be. Letting them touch you, and play with you was a strategic decision to get them hooked and you weren't meant to be his Queen but something had changed. Something snapping in him when the Capitols’ richest eyed you like a meal.

His jaw was clenched and he cleared his throat, “I changed my mind.” He said, “I am not sharing after all.”

You are his. His property. His bird locked in his cage and now his Queen. He pulled you closer, away from prying hands. He glared, memorizing the face of any and everyone displeased, thinking of plans of how to dispose of them quickly because even if briefly they had touched you that was a sin. No one taints the Queen but a King.

He cordially finishes dinner, keeping in mind he was a president, a newly appointed one at that even if he wanted to he couldn't drag you into his room and have his way with you. But he wanted to. His free hand is on your thigh, gripping it hard enough to leave a small bruise. His hold gets tighter the more he has to smile pretty and act polite.

You hadn't said a word, you weren't sure what to say. You were ready to be shared, used, and then discarded. Snow had told you of this beforehand, but he had changed his mind and you were grateful.

Even as he marked you, made you whimper with his grip, giving your thigh a warning squeeze to be quiet. You were relieved that he decided not to share. You were his, you liked that you were his.

Dinner took longer than you would have preferred, but when it finally came to an end, Snow leaned into you and whispered, “Be on my bed wearing my shirt and nothing else, my bird.”

You didn't reply. You get up, walking into his room, heat choking your veins and making your pussy ache and wet. You close the door as you reach the master bedroom of the manor.

Going into his closet you picked on a red shirt, knowing that it would match your skin tone well. You had taken everything else off, your panties and previous clothes on the floor. You were in full display as you didn't even button up the shirt. Your breasts are exposed to the cold air making your nipples harden.

You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come. One minute bleeds into ten and you laid down on the bed. One hour turns to several and your eyes close up. Sleep catches up with you.

You woke up with a gasp. Sleep at the edge of your mind but your mouth lets out a moan wantonly as several things hit you at once.

One. Snow was here.

Two. Snow was between your thighs, his hands keeping your thighs wide and spread for him.

Three. His lips were on your clit, sucking it vigorously making you arch your back and wanting to flinch away from the intensity.

And you tried to move away, your bud sensitive more with pain than in pleasure. How long was Snow like this, sucking at your clit. Your pussy was now impossibly slick and throbbing, wanting to be filled.

A slap was delivered onto your thigh, a hitched moan leaving your lips because of the delicious pain. “Behave,” Snow sneers at you, his blue eyes looking ravenous, his face smeared with your arousal. This was Snow? You thought for a brief second. For once he felt like a man brought down to his knees by a woman instead of something untouched.

“Sorry,” you gasp out as he dives into your cunt. His tongue drew circles onto your clit as your cunt clenched around nothing. You never thought Snow would be sloppy at anything, you thought wrong because his breathing was loud, warn air of his pants grazing your sex. His stubble brushed against your sex as all of his attention was overstimulating your clit.

He finally lost interest as you cried out that you were close just by him playing with your clit for who knows how long. It hurt. It felt good. Perfect, delicious pleasure and pain. You were dizzy, your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. Leaving no parts of your cunt untouched by his mouth. He was licking every drop of your juices, all the while he made you wetter.

Your hands were fisted into the sheets, your hips subtly moving for friction. A notion that was stopped with a squeeze of his hand on your thigh. You were brought to your high, so close to the edge you would fall in a second as moans spilled from your lips.

Only for that to be snatched away as Snow moved away. You cry out, “No! Please!” But Snow merely raised an unamused eyebrow while his hand wiped his mouth. “Snow, please,” you whispered, feeling the heat and the high of your lost orgasm.

He lets out a scoff as he sees your desperate state. “My meal is finished,” he merely said. His hand takes off the red suit, the same color as your (his) shirt. His fingers unbutton his white shirt, revealing his toned physique. Those same hands now unzipped his pants, his boxer down to the floor revealing a hard cock. The well-rounded tip leaking pre-cum.

“But I am not done with you yet,” he muses, as he moves in closer. You were sitting up now and his hand was on your nape.

“I don't think I'll ever be done with you,” he whispers, the words sealing a promise of forever. “Don't be,” you whispered back, leaning to catch his lips. Your arms around his shoulders to pull him on top of you, to feel his weight, his skin against yours.

Primal instincts take over you both as you kiss. Desperate whimpers and deep groans could be heard and his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Making it bleed and making him suck your blood into his mouth. He pulls back with a gasp, his eyes wide, his lips swollen. His taste was of a dessert you couldn't name. Addictive and delicious.

His left hand was on your cheek, another still on your nape. His thumb brushes your cheek in a manner of caring. “You're the Queen of Panem now,” he announces, making your heart jump in surprise. “The First Lady of Panem.”

With that, he seals his words with a kiss. Soft and ravishing, his tongue explores your mouth. Your hand is in his hair, the blonde locks between your fingers as you kiss back with everything you have.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing with yours, “My bird in a cage. My property.”

“I'll make sure everyone at Capitol knows it,” he said, his eyes looking at you with the ferality of an animal stripped to his bare instincts. “Is that understood, my bird?” He asked.

The answer couldn't be anything but yes. So you replied exactly that and he grins. He looked beautiful in that moment, his charms coming out making you even more needy.

You pulled him in for another kiss, his lips smiling against yours as both of your tongues tangled. His hand lowered itself and cupped your cunt. His fingers trace your entrance and you whimper into his mouth but he doesn't breach in.

He gathers your arousal on his digits, and he pulls back from the kiss to take the digits into his mouth. After sucking his fingers clean, he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself.

His hands pushed you down on the bed, your legs on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, taking you in, his bird being such a pretty mess.

He placed a kiss on your thigh that was unbelievably soft that for a moment you didn't believe it was action done by Snow's lip but the harsh bite of his mouth marking the skin of your inner thigh proved otherwise.

He leaned down, his hand in your hand above your head. Your free hand dug into his shoulder, forming crescent marks that made him groan, a choked-off desperate sound that you wanted more of.

All the while he placed his cockhead right at your entrance. You gasp as you feel the tip slip inch by inch into your velvety warmth. You wondered if he was going so slow because he wanted you to adjust to his length. However, one look at his face told you were wrong. His blonde strands clinging to his forehead, his lips parted and letting out hot breaths all the while his eyes closed shut, his eyebrows furrowed as he buried his dick into your cunt with the slow pace.

The reason he was going slow was because he wasn't sure if he could last and fuck, that got into your head. Birds are little teasers and you were no different so you clenched around him. His length half pushed in and felt your pulsing cunt wrapping itself tighter around him.

His eyes fall open as he lets out a grunt of surprise and pleasure, “Fuck.” His icy eyes glare at you, “Don't.” Your pussy only clenched further in reply and his hold gets harder, pressing your hand into the mattress as he sank in completely without a warning. “Ah!” You let out in surprise, the stretch painfully perfect.

“Take it,” he whispered to you, his lip biting your earlobe before he dragged his mouth to the pulse of your neck to mark you up properly as his property. His hips now beginning to move, calculated and controlled just like every other action of Snow. Every thrust hits your g-spot relentlessly, making you gasp and moan, back arching in pleasure.

“Gentlemen make their women cum but you're not a woman. You're my property but I am merciful so cum. Cum on my cock untouched, my bird.” He groans into your ear as his pace gets faster, a tad bit of desperation creeping in as his hips slam into you without a care. You could only moan in reply, truth is you didn't need to be touched to cum. His cock, his skin against yours, his mouth sucking your neck, and placing love bites were enough. More than so.

The heat was already forming in your stomach, waiting to be released and spread all over your body. The final push hadn't come long after. As you and Snow shared a filthy open-mouthed kiss, he had thrust so hard and deep, a small bulge had formed, your cervix being kissed with his cockhead.

You cry his name and your pussy comes on his cock, milking his length with repeated squeezes. “That's it, my bird,” he praises as he continues to abuse your cunt with his dick. Your nerves are oversensitive making you whimper and teary-eyed. He found his release with a whimper, his hot cum filling your womb. He pulled out with a small gasp and you wanted him again.

His hand ran through his hair, pushing the sweaty strands up. “First lady of Panem,” he stated, looking at you and then your body, his cum falling out of your cunt.

“First Lady…” you whispered, in disbelief and for whatever may come in the future.

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thalissateixeira · 1 year

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it’s the hunger games renaissance so i just want to remind everyone that donald sutherland (who played president snow) was on a cia watchlist for anti-war activities. he fully understood the role and message of the books and in an interview literally said “he runs a totalitarian state, he’s an oligarch- we have them here” during an interview.

#the hunger games #donald sutherland #president snow

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safirefire · 5 months

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The ending of the Hunger Games movie with Snow reluctantly crowing Katniss a winner and brushing aside her hair only to see a mockingjay pin is so fucking funny after reading tbosas and knowing exactly who and what is haunting him at this moment and Katniss explains “it’s from my District” yeah lmao he knows babe he’s been

They were the first things he could never control and they’ve absolutely haunted him to think about ever since

#hunger games #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #katniss everdeen #president snow #coriolanus snow #mockingjays #safirefire

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peetapiepita · 5 months

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In the end, he became who he hated the most, an old man beefing with a teenager without the teenager even knowing the reason.

And it's really just beef carried on from the previous generation. The teenager didn't even exist when the reason happened.

#hunger games #the hunger games #thg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #president snow #coriolanus snow #dean highbottom #katniss everdeen

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finnicks-elbow · 5 months

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i feel like these posts get a sprinkle more deranged every time i upload

#the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #president snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #thg #tbosas #lucy gray baird #lucy gray x coriolanus #coryo snow #mic #iz

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let-me-sleep-or-die · 5 months

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Yeah Katniss Is Lucy Gray’s greatest revenge on snow

But Peeta is how she haunts him.

Katniss is Lucy’s anger. She’s the retribution.

Katniss is fire. Katniss used her songs as a warcry. As a call to arms.

Katniss is the fight.

Katniss is the revenge.

Peeta is Lucy’s kindness. He’s the reminder.

A boy in love with a songbird. A boy obsessed with with a victor from twelve.

Peeta is the good that Lucy was. Peeta believes in that fundamental kindness Lucy gray did. Peeta is her memory. The reminder that Snow crossed that line into evil.

Even after being high jacked, peeta warns people. He tells them to flee the danger. Run like Lucy did.

Peeta knows how to hide. He can disappear in the woods.

Just like Lucy did.

Peeta is charismatic, someone the capitol fell in love with, like they did with Lucy.

Peeta is the memory.

Katniss was there to end Snow, to stop him to make sure everything he built was burned.

Peeta was there to torment him. Be the ghost of Lucy. Make sure Snow was in pain over the woman he lost.

#tbosas #tbosbas #the hunger games #hunger games #lucy gray baird #lucy grey #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #coryo snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #Lucy gray #president snow #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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musenilla · 4 months

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‘You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same.’

Theyyyy more art of them again. I think about how tragic they are almost ever hour.

#the hunger games #the hunger games fanart #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas fanart #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #coriolucy #coryo snow #president snow #lucy grey #katniss everdeen #fanart #clip studio paint #thg

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diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls · 5 months

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The first real conversation Katniss has with Peeta is when he tells her that he wants to die as himself, that he doesn't want the games to change him into something he's not, and that he wants to keep his identity and prove he's more than just a piece in their games because that's the only thing he has left to care about.

The first time we see Lucy Gray she sings a song that basically says that nothing they could take from her was worth keeping. "Can't take my past. Can't take my history... You can't take my charm. You can't take my health."

The capitol has taken everything from them both, but at the same time, they could never take away who they are.

They are both likeable charismatic and funny, with the kindest hearts, and incredibly loyal to the people they care about.

At the same time, everything they do before the games, and during is calculated. Lucy Gray singing a love song and winning the hearts of the capitol. Peeta confesses he's in love with his district partner, therefore cementing her identity as desirable. Both of them know how to sway people with words, how to charm people, and how to manipulate crowds. Neither of them has any problem doing so to keep themselves, and the people they love safe.

Lucy Gray's song The Old Therebefore, about learning how to love and live her life to the fullest before death, a final and calculated stroke in a last-ditch effort to save herself from the arena. This evokes enough emotion in the watchers to get them to rise to their feet and plead for her life alongside Snow.

Snow, watching the 74th and preparing for the 75th Hunger Games sees Lucy Gray in Katniss. A young girl, from the 12th district. Unafraid at the reaping. Selling a false love story, manipulating a boy who loves her in order to get out and supporting the revolution with the mockingjay as her symbol.

He threatens her family to get her to sell that she and Peeta are in love, to prevent the revolution, because obviously, she's pretending. He's had experience with a girl just like her before. He has no doubt that she has the acting ability to sell this story because clearly, she manipulated the first Hunger Games in her favor, the same way Lucy Gray manipulated him.

Watching the interviews for the 75th Hunger Games he realizes-

Katniss is just an impulsive girl, in a Mockingjay dress she didn't know about, made by someone who supports the revolution.

Peeta is a boy who has the ability to move people with just his words. He made Katniss desirable, he was the one who sold the love story, and he was the one to make their romance seem real. Katniss only started the revolution because she would rather risk dying with him than live without him. A concept President Snow was completely unfamiliar with. And it is with all these realizations crashing around him Peeta drops the baby bomb. He knows the baby's not real, and so does Snow. But it evokes enough emotion in the watchers to get them to rise to their feet and plead for the lives of the tributes.

Is it Lucy Gray or Peeta?

By the time Snow realizes he's made a mistake, it's too late.

Peeta is still charming and manipulating the capitol. Katniss is in love.

He goes up against a kindhearted boy expecting to beat Sejanus again, only to find out that it's Lucy Gray he's fighting; knowing he will never be able to escape their ghosts.

-from a conversation i had with @grandtyphoonpoetry breaking down every character in the hunger games.

#I have so many thoughts about this #they are so powerful with their words #i will never get over how many different kinds of power fueled this revolution #everything came full circle #peeta mellark #lucy gray baird #katniss everdeen #coriolanus snow #president snow #the hunger games #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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mockingjay-sings · 5 months

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“Well, as they said, it's not over until the mockingjay sings.” ― Suzanne Collins, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

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shellxrls · 5 months

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SFW

lovedrunk!snow who loves to fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent to lull him into a restful sleep. freeing him of the paranoia that you might leave him in the middle of the night.

lovedrunk!snow who wraps his entire arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, burying his face into your hair and peppering kisses along your hairline.

lovedrunk!snow who ignores his capitol duties in favour of letting you sit in his lap and tell him about your day.

lovedrunk!snow who lets you call him an assortment of cutesy nicknames - "babe", "coryy", "coryoo", - that he would rather die than hear coming out of anyone else's mouth.

NSFW - mdni | 18+ content cw: explicit smut, unprotected PinV, breeding kink, cockwarming

lovedrunk!snow who fucks you sloppy n dirty against whatever surface he can find, desperate to get his hands on your hot skin and ravage you with his mouth, his fingers and his cock.

lovedrunk!snow who lets you dig your nails into the muscled flesh of his back and claw red and raised marks because he wants to be able to carry lasting reminders of you with him.

lovedrunk!snow who prefers fucking you in missionary bc that way you get to lay there all pretty, hair spread in a halo, while his abs tense and he fucks into you as hard as he can.

lovedrunk!snow who'll let you ride him just so that he can bottom out every time and watch your combined fluids dribble out onto his pelvis and stick to each other with every thrust.

lovedrunk!snow who wants to breed you - "ah f-fuck baby im gonna cum inside you, 'm gonna push all this cum deep inside, you're gonna look so beautiful pregnant."

lovedrunk!snow who lets you cockwarm him when you wake up in a restless fit, holding your back tight against his chest while he does his work.

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wireddless · 5 months

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pairing: Coriolanus Snow/Reader

cw: 17+ hate. fucking. dubcon, possessive behavior, corio is emotionally abusive, vaguely implied Plinth reader, p in v, unprotected sex, nsfw below the cut,

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i just know hes so hung you guys i want him so bad

Living in the shadow of Lucy Gray was never an easy feat. That’s all she was after the erasure; a shadow, soon to be only a whisper on the sleeping breath of Coriolanus. The closest he could ever feel to real love was with the District 12 songbird, and had she been more than just a district animal, a member of the Capitol, there was no doubt in your mind he would have married her instead.

Your days at the academy, a few years his inferior, were spent in the naive mindset that he was fully capable of love. However, the only true love he would ever feel was towards the power in his cold-handed grasp. After your graduation, you continued living with your family, their prized figurehead of poise and beauty, until they managed to propose your hand to him, only a year or so before he became president.

Coriolanus, living on top of his family’s hidden debt and poverty, accepted nearly immediately, driven by the thought of the millions that came with your name. Your family, so charmed by the icy man, was manipulated into paying for the lavish ceremony. A Capitol wedding was a spectacle to behold, a sea of colored heads and garments, textiles in unique patterns decorating the spectators in a myriad of colors. An insipid eye-sore, in his opinion.

And there you were, the pale lavender of your dress cascading down your body like the drapes that covered a window in a lonely mansion, baby fat gone. The bright light in your eyes that has now long-since faded, the happy expression you held, truly believing the facade he had put on to convince your family that he was a perfect match, it all fueled a fire of satisfaction in his psyche. He remembered the young girl from their studious days, the sneaky glances shot his way from a face framed by baby fat, it was so easy to take advantage of a schoolgirl crush, to charm his way right into your heart. He’d never go hungry again, and he could finally focus solely on his rise to power.

Or so he thought. When you managed to pick his intentions apart and discovered the cunning and manipulative nature of the man, you became defiant, fucking petulant. Your once tender and loving gaze, seeking to nurture and care for him, hardened like the calcium deposits on the well pumps in the poorer districts of Panem. He heard in passing from the workers of the house about your violent fits of tears late at night. It wasn’t like he cared, hell, the idea of your reddened face damp with tears and snot amused him to no end. But fuck if it didn’t annoy him when Tigris became your closest friend and confidant.

Coriolanus kept you locked away in the golden cage of his home, not permitting the men of his staff to go near you, forcing you to discuss with him the simplest task of visiting your own family. You were still the key to his now inherited wealth, a prize that he had won with cunning and malicious tactics, and the thought of you straying into the arms of another man, who could take you, who could take even a bit of the control he held, it infuriated him to no end.

It took almost a year for you to realize that without your family, he was completely broke, and it took almost two to realize he never once held even a glimmer of fondness towards you, that he was using you. Tigris, who had spoken to you during her regular visits, had become the arms you fell into when the agony of your situation first befell you. Her hands wrapped around your body as she shushed and hummed quietly were a solace to you as the pain dawned on you. Three years after your marriage, you would speak in hushed tones over cooling tea, not bothering to hide your glare when Coriolanus bothered joining. He was no longer the subject matter of your conversations with Tigris, instead discussing gossip that had spread through the yammering mouths of Capitol citizens, and the newest trends to pass around them. She had become your dearest friend, one he couldn’t find a valid reason to hide you from. Though he never would admit while his heart was still beating, despite your shared animosity, you were still his favorite accessory.

The Reaping ceremonies for the next annual Hunger Games would begin soon, which became a sensitive topic between you and Coriolanus. It was no secret to you who Lucy Gray Baird had been, who she had been to him. What the hunger games meant to him. You resented her. Not for the place she held near his heart, but for managing to escape him before he had caged her.

The fire of your arguments was always sparked by her name, the tinder and fuel having already been prepared by the years of building resentment. Almost always in his office, your hands would shove him back as he rapidly approached you after you provoked him with harsh and unforgiving words, only fanning the flame of hatred he felt towards you. Then he would corner you, your back against the wall as one hand found your neck and the other found your hair, his fingernails digging at your scalp. His minty breath falling out of his mouth in heavy gasps as he fought the urge to kill you right there. You made him feel as though he was an animal from the districts, dirty and foaming at the mouth. And he hated that.

“You know I would never harm you.” He’d always reassure you when his grip on your throat finally loosened, his eyes taking in the way you would suck in air he had prevented from reaching your lungs. Coriolanus considered what little he allowed you, even the air you breathed, a favor. He thought himself generous, benevolent even. He wasn’t of course, and you were always quick to point that out.

Today's argument was only different in setting, within the walls of your shared bedroom rather than his office. You had shoved him, predictable, and turned to storm away, wanting to find a guest room to sleep in instead. But before you could reach the door, his hand had yanked you by your hair back towards him before nearly throwing you on the bed. When you sat up to scramble away, he shoved you back down by your shoulders and crawled on top of you, effectively pinning you to the mattress, an echo of your frequent taunts. It was rare that you two would actually be in such a position, as neither of you particularly craved intimacy with one-another, yet the way one hand slid up your negligee and gripped the curve of your thigh conveyed a much different message tonight.

“I just wish you’d shut up for once, you know that?” He growled. Coriolanus Snow was an aggressive lover. He put all his weight on his forearm strung across your chest to keep you pinned down as his fingers left their place on your thigh and slid up to the junction of your legs, cupping your heat rather aggressively before shoving them aside and sliding his fingers over your folds to find the sensitive and rather neglected bundle of nerves. You could hardly hide the shudder that overcame you as you responded.

“Fuck you!” You spat at him, writhing under his touch. Your head fell back on the luxurious sheets and you bit back a moan as he swirled his fingers in a circular motion over your clit, stirring the lust you had repressed to life. How he loved to see your eyes rolling back into your skull as you fought surrendering to his ministrations. The edges of his mouth lifted in a smug little smirk when your arousal became more evident, making your cunt slick and pliable.

Oh, how he adored to see his poor, neglected wife fall victim to her own human nature. It made him want to consume you whole, like you were a treat he got all to himself. Coriolanus’s mouth fell to your collarbone and his teeth scraped over the thin skin as he slipped his middle finger inside your sopping hole, earning an earnest mewl from your normally argumentative lips. He bit down rather hard at the junction of your neck and shoulder as he slowly, teasingly pumped his finger in and out. This would be easier than he thought.

He tilted his head back up to take in the sight of your demeanor flickering to something more vulnerable, before taking your mouth with his. He kissed you like you provided the air he needed to breathe, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate. You’d be a fool to say you didn’t still crave him after the years of strained marriage. His teeth clashed with yours as you both attempted to deepen the kiss. When he pushed another finger inside of you, hooking them and speeding up, your mouth fell open with a shaky moan, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

When your mother described to you what sex was like, she explained it like an intimate dance, where two souls would merge with love and passion. But it was never like that between the two of you. It was always a battle, aggressive and antagonistic as one of you sought to take something from the other. For Coriolanus, it was a display of his authority and control. His fingers quickened in pace and your hips bucked up into his hand, searching for more friction that would aid in your release. And he was benevolent wasn’t he? Who would he be to deny such a rare and primal pleasure? His fingers continued their attack on the spongy roof of your walls, pushing you closer and closer until your hand tore at the skin of his back with the intensity of your orgasm. Still seeing stars, he pulled his lips from yours and hovered them over your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, damp with tears.

“See how easy everything can be when you just stop resisting me at every turn?” You opened your mouth to respond, to bite back when the arm that pinned you down quickly shifted so his hand could cup over your mouth. He loved shutting you up. His silent voice hissed in your ear with a lingering promise. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

So focused on his words and hot breath on your ear, you almost didn’t notice when he pulled his fingers from inside you to tug down your panties, discarding them somewhere behind him before fumbling with the breeches he slept in, the cold air of the room hitting his stiff cock. He brought that same hand up before him, spitting in it and spreading the wetness of his saliva over his hardened length. Barely giving you a second to process all that was happening, he pressed himself inside of you, his eyes squeezing shut and his brow furrowing as your tight, wet heat engulfed him entirely.

Having not been intimate with him in so long, it was like he was splitting you open, and you cried out with pleasure into his hand, your own lashes pressing together as you took his total length. Coriolanus didn’t remain still for long, and his hips soon began setting a bruising pace, his balls slapping against your ass as he fought the urge to moan himself, not wanting to appear any less in control than he was. Your muffled gasps spurred him on, practically driving him mad as he pummeled into you. The volume difference when he removed his hand from your mouth and forearm from your chest was quite noticeable, and his fingers wove into your hair once more, holding your head back against the bed as he swallowed your moans with his mouth.

The stinging pain of your nails in the skin of his back when they flung around him was dulled by the sheer thrill he felt taking you like this. The hand that coaxed your orgasm out of you found its way to your thigh again, pushing it up over your torso to rest on your shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper inside of you as his fingers dug into the hot and tender skin. You nearly screamed into his mouth from the change in sensation as his hips came flush with yours over and over again. For a brief moment, he pulled away from the kiss to bite and suck at the skin of your neck, letting you sing out unmuted by his hand, as he imagined his songbird would so many years ago.

Coriolanus hated you. He hated almost everything about you. He resented you the way you resented him, but he was still addicted to you. Addicted to the control you allowed him as he fucked you stupid, to the way your pitful moans were brought about by him, to the dumb fucking look on your face as your body managed to make his hips stutter and falter as he came inside you with a low moan. He didn’t care about pulling out. You were his wife, a state figurehead, it was part of the job description to give birth to his children. Maybe getting you pregnant would even do him the favor of shutting you up. He didn’t bother helping you clean up as you readjusted your nightgown, instead opting to wipe the sweat from his brow and tuck himself back in the satin pants he intended on sleeping in.

Coriolanus Snow was not capable of real love. All those close enough to him were well-aware of that fact, including you. But when he crawled into the bed and pulled you, still breathless and trembling, up next to him, when he tucked your head into his chest in a possessive manner, your hands pressed against his heated chest, when he fell asleep holding you like you’d run away too, you momentarily convinced yourself he might have been able to love.

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