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?
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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.
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Another thing I really liked about TBOSBAS is it shows how short history can be. Like in the original trilogy, we know that the games have been happening for 74 years, but by going back to the 10th games, and getting flashbacks from the war, we see that it really has only been a few generations. And (some of) those people are still around in THG. Mags won the 11th games, literally months after TBOSBAS. obviously Snow is still around, and Tigris, but there’s countless others too that turn the whole “this is how things are and always have been” ideology on its head. The inception of the games is actual living memory for people when Katniss volunteered at the reaping.
It’s the difference between looking at black and white photographs of Ruby Bridges attending school in a history book and seeing an interview of her now at 69 years old.
History does not exist separate from the present, and we’re not as far from it as we think.
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this has been said before in a myriad of ways but i have to say it again. i am obsessed with how his traitor’s ass thought he won, how he genuinely believed he’d wiped their memory from the face of the earth as if they’d never existed. only to watch a fierce, unlikeable misfit of a girl sprinkle flowers like precious breadcrumbs over a fallen tribute’s body in compassion, to honor their life in the midst of bloodshed. only for her to inspire rebellion with the very song he thought he’d silenced forever. only for her lover, a kind boy with a perchance for performing for & winning over the crowds, to possess a goodness so true that nothing could poison & weaponize him, not for long, not for good. retribution did come for coriolanus snow. sejanus & lucy gray & the districts were avenged tenfold & i fucking love that his doom & destruction was wrought by two children unknowingly carrying their ghosts.
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