#possesive!coriolanus snow

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

hii!! could i request a snow fic where she finds out she cheats on him and voluntarily tributes and hes trying to get her back? i loved the other fics!! I NEED MORE CHEATING SNOW FICS OMGG

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy. || Young President!Coriolanus snow x district!reader

A/n: Sorry anon I hope you’re not disappointed that I didn't fully write your request. I wanted Coryo to lowk suffer in this which is why I didn't dive into details of him getting her back. There is also one scene that is heavily inspired by a scene in the movie Priscilla! I also spent so many hours perfecting this and it was super fun!!!

Warnings: fem!reader, implied infidelity, toxic!coriolanus, manipulation, not proofread, if there's anything else pls lmk!

Wc: 1609

Divider by @firefly-graphics

The rapid clicks echoed throughout the hallway, the sound reverberating off the 12-foot-high ceiling walls. You walk with an eager stride, each step filled with anticipation as you take the familiar route to Coriolanus' office where he spent most, if not, all of his time cooped up in due to the upcoming hunger games.

There was a heaviness in your heart. You have always been the epitome of grace and composure, a woman who played her role in the political theater with finesse, albeit your brief upbringing in district 2. However, behind closed doors, the truth unfolded, resulting in you heartbroken and most of all betrayed. You couldn't ignore the letters that would pile up weekly, the gifts, all for him, from someone by the name Lysandra.

Not bothering to knock, knowing it would provoke a reaction from him, you forcefully swung the double doors open. There sat Coriolanus Snow, seemingly unbothered at your entrance. "Is there a problem?" An icy, impersonal tone carried his words, sharp and emotionless.

Your nose flared as you felt a surge of frustration, his lack of concern and emotion fuelling your anger. Besides, you had never stormed into his office unannounced before. Surely, he would question your sudden abruptness and, visibly, your anger.

Your voice, though filled with a trembling resolve, posed the question, "Who is she?" You hold a letter between your fingers, lifting it up to show him. He lifts his head up from his papers. "And why on earth is she sending my husband gifts and-and love letters?" You stammer, throwing the piece of paper with writing and a kiss—in the form of a lipstick mark in a shade of deep red—on his desk; your façade crumbling at your feet.

Snow stares at you before a scoff leaves his lips, leaning back on his chair. "You know how the people admire me, it's likely that whoever it is, she's simply passionate about expressing her feelings to me," Coriolanus shrugs. Your eye twitches at his response. Lies.

"Really? Well, Lysandra is ever so passionate about expressing her undying love for you," You recite the words from her letter as you watch a subtle glint of knowing in his eyes, "She's the only one who has described her so-called affection for you so intimately!"

As you question your husband's loyalty, an unsettling quiet settles around him. His eyes, cold and calculating, hold yours without a trace of vulnerability. The absence of words from his lips becomes a formidable response, leaving an ominous uncertainty lingering in the air.

His office echoed with a tense hush, broken only by a subtle tapping of his fingers against the armrest in a rhythmic patter. "For god's sake, Coryo. Say something! Who is she?" The slip of his nickname makes you swallow.

"I won't entertain your accusation. She's merely an admirer, nothing more! Have you finished exhausting yourself with this matter, wife?" Coriolanus seethes, abruptly standing up as he gathers his papers, opens his drawer, shoves them in, and slams it shut with such force that you swore you felt it in your bones.

"Is there something your hiding from me?" There was a tense silence that followed your question, Snow's features contorted with a mix of frustration and defiance. Avoiding eye contact, he clenched his jaw and emitted a sharp exhale. The air was thick with unspoke tension, revealing an anger that simmered beneath the surface.

"I have nothing to hide from you," He says calmly but you knew damn well there was anything but calmness within him. Annoyed and frustrated at the lack of information, you open your mouth again.

'"Throughout our entire marriage, I have done nothing but showed you how grateful I am that you chose me to marry, a district girl. You helped me build a reputation here in the capitol so that I would finally be respected, and now, I ask just one simple thing of you," As you speak your voice wavers slightly, revealing the depth of emotion behind your words. "Who is she to you?"

In mere seconds, Coriolanus storms past you, a blur of motion, leaving you momentarily bewildered as you blink, only to find yourself in the same spot. "Coriolanus!" You yell, spinning around as you follow him. "I've just had about enough of you for today y/n," He spat as he briskly walked up stairs, you following him. Servants who were around hurriedly walk pass, heads down.

He steps into your shared private chamber, adorned with decadent furnishings and overlooking the Capitol. He walks a couple steps before he just stops. His breath came in heavy, rhythmic waves, his chest rising and falling with urgency, leaving you standing frozen at the entrance.

"You know, I think you should go see your family for a little while," He turns around as you felt your heart drop. "What?" Your voice echoed with a helpless tone. "You heard me, I think your family has been missing you in the districts, go pay them a visit. Tell them how grateful you have been that I chose you as the First Lady of Panem, hm?"

He takes purposeful strides to the next room, filled from top to bottom with expensive, lavish pieces of clothing befitting both him and you. Coriolanus then pulls out a travelling trunk. The thought of you going back to district 2 sent shivers up your spine. You knew that everyone there now thinks of you as a traitor.

"What- No- Coryo, I'm not going-" Coriolanus cuts you off with a yell, tears forming in your eyes, "I think you should! Matter of fact, I'll help you start packing." A loud noise comes from the trunk making contact with the floor making you jump, a sob leaving your lips. The trunk opening as he starts aggressively pulling your clothes from the black velvety hangers, tossing them into the trunk.

"Coryo- please. Don't make me go back there," You fall to you knees in front of the trunk as your shaky hands remove the pieces of clothing from it. "Yeah, well I think a few months in the districts, away from your lavish life here, will make you realise how easy it is that I can send you back there." He forcefully takes your chin in between his thumb and index as your glassy eyes stare back at his icy, raging, blue eyes.

"Please, please don't send me back there-" Your beg becomes interrupted as he drops his grip on you and yells out the door, "Simon! Get the train ready now for Y/n to go back home!" He calls out to his assistant who answers out a "Of course Mr. President," You let out another sob as you rest your head on the pile of clothing.

Coriolanus glances over his shoulder, his breaths lingering in the air, he could hear your quiet pleas. There's a yearning within him, a desire to approach you and envelop you in a reassuring hug, to tell your that everything is alright and that forgives you. Yet, and unyielding pride restrains him, holding him back from acknowledging that what he was doing was wrong.

With one final look, he turns around, leaving you in a crying mess. Coriolanus was going to send you back to district 2 until the hunger games finished, then, he would come get you and hope that your time there made you ponder your actions, although he knew they were quite reasonable.

Your allegiance to your husband shattered when you were forced onto the train, Coriolanus stood a couple metres away from you as you squirm in the peacekeeper's grips. As you made your way back to a place you once called home, a quiet determination settled within you as you hatched a plan that would not only expose Coriolanus' betrayal, but also allow you to reclaim a piece of your shattered identity.

~

As the Reaping day approached, you made a choice that sent shockwaves through the carefully orchestrated world of Panem. With a steady hand, you inscribed your own name on a slip of paper and placed it in the glass ball, committing yourself to the Hunger Games.

On the day of the Reaping, the Capitol Square buzzed with anticipation, the districts, not so much. Coriolanus, very much unaware of his wife's hidden actions, stood in front of the dignitaries on the stage.

The customary ceremony began, the escort pulls a slip pf paper from the glass ball, announcing the male tribute who would face the Capitol's twisted version of justice.

As the tension mounted, the escort unfolded a slip of paper and read aloud, "Y/n Snow." A gasp rippled through the crowd, and Coriolanus's face contorted with disbelief. Time seemed to free as he processed the shock of seeing his wife's name called out. Surely there was a mistake.

The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer, and anger boiled within him, mixing with the shock and confusion as the crowd erupted in whispers. A woman of Capitol elegance was now standing among the district 2 residents.

You weave through the rows of people, maintaining a stoic expression. As you step up on the stage, your eyes land on the camera a couple feet away from you where you know Snow was watching back in the Capitol.

Coriolanus stared at your face and in that moment, he saw the resolve and defiance that had replaced the hurt in your eyes. The Capitol, known for its love of spectacle, witnessed an unprecedented turn of events. Coriolanus Snow, the powerful President, was rendered speechless as his own actions came back to haunt him in the cruelest twist of fate.

#fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #coriolanus snow fanfiction #possesive!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #tom blyth #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #Coriolanus snow x district!girl #district 2 #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #hunger games #hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games fanfiction #hungergamesx

[slaymitchabernathy]

Terrible & Tall

Coriolanus Snow might be a terrible man capable of terrible things, but at least he’s tall.

And he loves being taller than her.

He didn’t realize what he had was considered a “size kink” until he’d heard one of his friends talking about. It was the perfect way to describe it.

He loves towering over her, knowing that he can always look over her shoulder, grab what she needs from the biggest shelf. He thinks it’s so fucking cute how she has to get up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss.

But it’s not just his height that he loves. It’s the fact that he’s just bigger than her. He supposes some of it stems from his need to protect her from the dangers of the world.

Panem is a dangerous place after all.

Knowing he can easily shield her body with his own comforts him and it’s something he’d do without question.

But he loves being able to lay on top of her body, completely deadweight and know that she physically can’t move him. His muscle mass trumps her, his body weight also trumps her. He’s simply stronger.

She likes it too. Likes when he comes up behind her and wraps his big strong arms around her body, easily picking her up. Picking her up is probably his favorite thing to do. Whether it be sexual or playful he always wears a smirk.

If he’s being playful then he’ll spin her around, listen to her giggle as she chides him and whines to be put down. Even though they both know she doesn’t want to be put down. And heaven forbid her feet ever hurt from walking in those heels. Coriolanus has scooped her up one too many times, slinging her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing.

If he’s being sexual then it’s an entirely different story. He loves picking her up when she’s being a little brat. She might think she has the upper hand and for the most part he lets her think that. But when it’s time to teach her a lesson he wastes no time in grabbing her by the waist, ignoring her jabs or kicks.

He’ll throw her onto the bed, his body on top of hers in an instant, holding her down with his sheer body weight. She’ll try to push herself up, get him off her back but they both know she can’t. He’ll bite the shell of her ear while he chuckles, “You know you can’t fight back doll,” he’ll say, wrapping his large hands around her small waist.

That’s another thing he loves. How big his hands are. She loves his hands. Loves holding them, loves playing with them and the rings he wears. But she loves them the most when they’re buried in her cunt. The way they stretch her out makes her let out the sweetest sounds. She can’t get enough.

He likes wrapping his hands around her neck, watching her eyes get that far away look in them, nearly glazing over. He also likes grabbing her waist, in public it’s to keep her close to him, can’t have her wandering off. He’ll do it at galas, letting everyone know she belongs to him.

In the bedroom it’s a bit different. If she’s riding him— a rare occasion — he’ll wrap both hands around her waist to gain back some control, set the pace she’s going at. If she’s lying on her back then he loves to grab her waist while he pounds into that sweet little cunt of hers, squeezing it harder when he gets close. When he fucks her from behind he grabs her waist and pulls her tight cunt back onto his cock over and over again until she’s crying.

His cock is large too. Something he’s quite proud of. He loves watching her take it over and over again, knowing she can’t do anything about it. She has to be his good girl. He loves watching her eyes get teary after so many rounds, her cunt so sore but yet so willing to take it. When he fucks her from behind he can see how tightly her walls wrap around him, barely able to take all of him. She’ll whine and cry about it, how she’ll be so sore in the morning.

He loves it most when he fucks her stupid. She loves it too. Loves when he’s grabbing her waist and pounding into her so fucking hard that she can’t even spell her own name. He loves fucking her while she’s on her back, getting to see her little face so dumb with pleasure. He’ll smirk when he sees her stomach bulging and make her watch it. She gets so flustered whenever she sees it. He’ll tease her, taunt her, all while pulling her back onto his cock over and over again.

“So pretty for me baby. You like being on my cock? Aren’t you my good girl, taking it so well? Look how dumb you already look, all you can think of is me hmm? This is where you belong, stuck on my cock, taking my cum like the good fuckdoll you are. You’re gonna give me one more right? Gonna lie there and take it.”

He loves how perfectly she fits into him. Fits into his lap, his hands, his arms, his hold.

They’re both aware that he isn’t perfect. That his temper gets the best of him and then him being so big isn’t fun for her anymore. It’s hard to fight back against someone twice your size. All she can do is lie there and take it until he’s gotten his frustrations out.

Then he’ll try to be kind. Be gentle. A gentle giant.

Coriolanus Snow is anything but gentle.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

#coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #hunger games #slaymitchabernathy #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #ao3 fanfic #wattpad #soarynn snow #soarynn nightingale #coriolanus x soarynn #coryo snow #staywithmealways #coriolanus x original character #coriolanus x oc #coriolanus drabble #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fic #coriolanus oneshot #possesive coriolanus #size difference #size k!nk

[anti-herostan]

it's kinda ironic how you people consider coryo's "his love. his lucy gray line" line as his red flag or ultimate proof of possessiveness as if your favorite book boyfriend doesn't say something similar or almost close to that line as well...

#coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #snowbaird #tbosas #thg #i thought possesiveness was normal for book boys #its a different thing in tbosas i guess

[dotieeee]

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Masterlist

Fandom and pairing: TBOSAS, Dark!Young!Coriolanus x Named!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Premise:

Welcome to The Game!

There are no strict rules to The Game, and you only have one objective: to avoid capture. So you have to use your smarts, rely on your instincts and carefully plan ahead if you want to win. Outsmart the enemy, it loses a point and bides its time; get outsmarted by the enemy, and you get twice as close to getting captured. You may have to face multiple enemies at once. You won't die in The Game, but others might. You are at risk of losing yourself and compromising your core values as The Game progresses.

Will you prevail, or will the enemy ultimately land on top?

Overall warnings, take heed:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, ​possesiveness, drugging, somnophilia, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, Slow burn!! and other stuff that may be added

Special thanks to @honeybeezgobzzzzz 🌹🌹🌹

AO3 link here

Links to the Chapters (styled as Levels):

Level 1, Level 2, Level 3, Level 4, Level 5, Level 6, Level 7, Level 8, Level 9, Level 10, Level 11, Level 12, Level 13, Level 14, Level 15, Level 16, Level 17, Level 18??

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #dark themes #dark fic #18+ only #tbosas fic #tbosas

[fictionalihavebrainrot]

im begging for more young snow hcs 🙏 maybe jealous ones? like how he'd act if he saw you talking to someone a little to flirty? or comforting him after a nightmare bc i feel like he'd get lots but be kinda embarrassed about them? idek but i love ur work and he's so fine it hurts 😭

AWOOGA so im gonna write the nightmare thing very soon cause i eat that trope thing up every time but for now jealous snow hehehehe

Jealous Coriolanus Snow hcs

I tried to keep it kinda pg but slightly suggestive under the cut

This man is the most jealous lover its not real at this point

Is it because he's possesive or insecure maybe a bit of both but mainly possesive cause come on

So lets just say any man you talk to is suddenly being death stared by him

He does that tounge against his cheek thing

He would walk over to you and whatever person he was jealous of and his jaw would be TENSE

He would either put his arm around your waist or stand behind you in a guarding manner

The only person he would not be jealous of is Sejanus and that's only because he kinda trusts him

Not that anyone wouldn't know you two are together because hes always with you or talking about you

Also because of the incredibly visable hickies he would put all over your neck

He's jealous even if someone isn't flirting

If they were flirting tho mans is PISSED

He would absoultly never admit to being jealous

Just "I want to protect you"

His ego is to high and he thinks you don't know

How could you not know?

Please for the love of all gods above tell him your only his

If you were out to dinner and someone was flirting with you he would grasp your thigh

He is hella hot all the time but especially if hes flustered

so tease him about how hes jealous

"Someones jealous" " I am not" "it's okay Coryo" He would just roll his eyes

Now if you were jealous thats an entire different story

because the only reason you would be is because he purpusly wanted you to be

BUT do that shit to him flirt with someone infront of him and he is number 1 livid but number 2 prepared to leave bruises on your wrists from holding them up

Hes just a jealous man what can I say

Requests are open <3

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus hcs #coryo snow #tbosbas

[mitsuki91]

Okay but you know what could really destroy Snow?

Seeing Lucy Gray slowly starting to fall out of love with him. Lucy Gray knowing him so well she starts to be repulsed by him. The pain and disdain and the masks she has to wear (expecially if they are in the Capitol and she depends on him) in order to survive... With him because she has no other option. Lucy Gray, who put trust above everything, slowly starting to lie to his face, to hyde the fear and the pain behind fake smiles to make him happy with her.

And he will see this. He will see because, as always, as they are connected by the stars, as they are both performers, he can read her as she can read him. He can see her pulling back from their love story.

So. He may think that he want her to be caged, because so he can feel safe. But in reality he can not. In reality, he needs her to choose him. Everyday. They have to be a team. They have to be alone against the world (even if that means they have to perform to find a place in that world). He has to know, to feel sure, to feel warm about the fact that his Lucy Gray wanted him and wanted to be with him in the same way he wanted to be with her.

He has to be sure they truly love each others.

Or he is going to be insane. After all, he already did. One trace of doubt - he lost it. He lost it so bad.

But betrayal in a so giant way is a thing; a thing that set him in a rage, that make him spiraling without control and do despicable things in a matter or seconds.

Slowly see your only love slowly fade away? This is another type of pain who can drive one mad in a more subtle way, because he still had hope he can just fix things and surerly he will do it. Just a little time. Just a little patiente. He will do it. But in reality she fade. More and more far away. And panic arise, day by day.

So yeah, Coriolanus Snow was a boy in love, and as a boy in love (the first time I must add) wanted to cage her loved one, to control her. It's normal to feel this way when you love someone, because you want the other one to love you the same. But it's a passing thought, not a real one, because physical possesion doesn't mean owning someone's feelings, and he knew this. Deep down he knew. And he wants Lucy Gray's love above everything else.

Seeing her simply perform their love story to him will be too much.

#coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #meta #snowbaird #this is why everytime I read him as a cold and possessive bitch who only wants to own Lucy Gray's “body” I feel so much ooc #this is not him #he will never be satisfied only to close her behind a door and fuck her #you all are overanalyzing one possessive thought one teen have once the first time he fell in love #and foget that everyone at some point thought something like this #expecially as a teen #in a first love situation #if you deny it I know you are lying #no one is so pure not all the love is platonic or an agape love #coriolanus snow meta #I have strog and deep feelings about this #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #rant #coriolanus snow rant

[prettybrunette3]

stargirl 𝜗𝜚

hello everyone! im currently snowed in, so what else is there to do besides write? this was something quick i thought of, i hope you enjoy :)

warnings: mentions of sex (non-descriptive), possesive!coryo, fem!reader, use of Y/N, use of she/her pronouns, and i think that is all.

please let me know!

she was an aristocrat, daughter of the president, grossly rich, delicately beautiful, the list could go on. she always slept with her pink silk pajamas, hair in a long braid, floral sheets keeping her warm. the only thing she desired was to go to the academy.

y/n ravenstill was lovely, when she was seen. her father kept her hidden from the world, preserving her innocence until he felt she was ready to be introduced to society. she was homeschooled by a prestigious tutor, one who was security checked every time she entered the home. y/n’s safety was always the upmost priority.

no one was really allowed to come visit her, but nobody really knew of her either. except for coriolanus snow, of course. y/n and coriolanus had grown up together, friends since they were children. so, when y/n batted her eyes at her father and begged him to let coriolanus in the house, he couldn’t say no. his little girl always got what she wanted.

now, the president didn’t need to know what is was that they were doing, but by the noises coming from y/n’s bedroom, he didn’t want to ask.

he felt comfortable leaving her with coriolanus. her father had known crassus snow, and he now knew tigris and coriolanus’ grandmaam. he didn’t feel the need to be so overprotective of his daughter when she was around her ‘friend’.

coriolanus was the only one at the academy who knew miss y/n. people knew of her but they didn’t really know her. not like he did. y/n was his girl. only his. he couldn’t imagine others seeing the way she looked at him, or the way she would look in her red uniform. even he can’t imagine how she would look in an academy uniform. the red would make the blush in her cheeks stand out, the uniform itself making her seem more within his reach.

he loved y/n, he really did. he loved the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the new capitol fashion trends, he loved the way her long hair sat just below her shoulders when she would sit on her bed and talk to him. he loved when she would smile so wide when they solved a math problem that even he struggled with.

everything was perfect in y/n’s life. she loved coriolanus, she loved staying at home, she loved her silk pajamas and she loved her father. she always envied the other people her age though, how could she not? she fantasized about the academy, about all the students and the uniform and the cafeteria. she wanted all of it. so when she asks her father to attend the academy, she begs him with all her heart.

he was hesitant of course, not fond of his little girl being exposed to the academy students and their perverted minds. however, he is not hesitant when he calls coriolanus over to discuss the change with him. the president knows how coriolanus adores his little girl. he knows that he will keep her at his side and protect her.

he tells coriolanus that she will be attending the academy with him, and he will need to stay with her at all times. he arranges a car to pick them up in the mornings, her classes to be the same as his, and for a car to bring them both to the presidents estate after class. coriolanus insists on this, telling the president that they must ‘study’ at the end of every day.

y/n is ecstatic. she wakes up on her first morning of school, showering early and making every detail about herself perfectly clean and dainty. her gold pearl earrings are dangling, her braid pigtails are adorning with ribbons at the end, and her eyelashes are coated with a small amount of mascara.

when coriolanus exits the car to escort her, all he smells is vanilla. all he notices is the way her pink luscious lips pop when she talks to him, or the way her hips are swaying with a newfound confidence in her uniform. it’s entirely too distracting, but he must endure. after all, he is already promised her hand in marriage.

of course the academy can’t get enough of her. who could? coriolanus snow’s girl, with her pretty eyelashes and girly voice and innocent pigtails. she answers every question correctly in the class, quite possibly giving everyone, including coriolanus, a run for their money.

he doesn’t mind of course, anything for his girl. he holds her hands in the halls, pulls her seat out for her at lunch table, pulls her into empty classrooms to remind her who she belongs to, etc. she is his prized possession.

she knows this, too. she sees the way that clemmie, her newfound friend, looks at him in class. she notices arachne crane’s seductive change of tone when she speaks to him. she would do anything to make it stop, but their empty classroom fucking reminded her she had nothing to worry about.

she’s making great grades, making new friends, and she’s quickly climbing the social ladder. coriolanus is next to her through all of it of course, he’s already proposed to her 2 weeks before graduation. he’s promised her she’ll have everything, including the title of the first lady of panem.

not that it mattered to her anyway, she didn’t need any convincing when he asked her. she immediately told him a yes, knowing he didn’t like being on one knee for her. she knew he loved his power over her, and she admired that he actually let his guard down to get on one knee for her. it made her feel equally as powerful.

lord knows she had waited to feel powerful with him.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #tom blyth #billy the kid #corio snow #coryo snow #coryo x reader #tbosas #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coquette #coriolanus x reader #young coriolanus snow #president snow #the hunger games #academy coryo

[victoriablyth]

songs that radiate sejanus, coryo and lucy; the holy trinity (based on my music taste) songs that give coriolanus snow: • new tank - playboi carti • role model - brent fiayaz • on sight - kanye west (idk abt lyrics but the vibe of the song just radiates chaos and coriolanus is ofc, chaos) • all mine - brent faiayz (coryo is possesive asf with lucy so this fits him so well) • for free - interlude - kendrick lamar songs that give lucy gray baird: • everything she wants - wham! • your teeth in my neck - kali uchis (the capitol ruined lucy gray's life) • just a girl - no doubt (she acc radiates this song sm) • everywhere - fleetwood mac (song has same themes of you cant catch me now, like being everywhere) • murder on the dancefloor - sophie ellis bexter songs that give sejanus plinth: • undone - the sweater song - weezer • custer - slipknot • punk tactics - joey valence and brae (if you think about it, he's very punk in tbosas) • all apologies - nirvana • bigmouth strikes again - the smiths (sejanus knows how joan of arc felt)

if you have any other songs, pls lmk in replies ty pookies luv u

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth #panem #the hunger games #emo

[ystrike1]

Can I recommend you Coriolanus Snow from "The ballad of songbirds and snakes" book? He's actually very possesive and obsessive on the book, even wishing to trap his love interest just so he can know where she is all the time. He goes crazy when paranoid about the idea of her leaving him, and even gave all of his saved money just so he could follow her when exiled. The movie is good but it doesn't capture all of Snow's creepines and evil.

No he sucks

#katniss everdeen #is the only good part of the main cast of any of these books #snow always lands on top smarmy weird boy isnt it #i dont think the yandere community should claim him. we can do better

[s6ngbird]

flowers from beneath — ACT IV

series masterlist || navigation

[ warnings ] — NSFW, dub-con, mentions of oral (f. receiving, p in v, your mother going crazy, coryo being possesive kidnapping, lmk if i missed anything

[ pairing ] — hades!coriolanus snow x persephone!reader

[ a/n ] — sorry this one took a while, i've been having exams all week and barely have any time to write, so this one is shorter, but i promise act v will be long since it is the last part

[ beta read by my savior @etfrin ]

life wasn't as miserable in the underworld as you had made it out to be

either that or coriolanus had been slowly brainwashing you

he had showed you a great deal of care these past few days and even let you out of his room more than once

unfortunately he still chained you or tied your wrists, his newest form of torture for you was the chain on your ankle that still allowed you to roam his room but stopped you a few feet before the door

he also had been fucking or going down on you at any moment he could find, frantic to feel you at all times

and you let him, growing more accustomed to his touch and letting him kiss you, even kissing back at times

as much as you were growing to love this horrible man who kidnapped you, you longed to be up on earth again and feel the sun's warmth

you often told coriolanus about this at night, when he was lazily going down on you or just stroking your hair while you laid on his chest

he always told you that as much as he loved you, he couldn't allow you to go up there because he might lose you

you didn't understand why that stopped him, couldn't he just come with you up there and watch while you played how you used to

what you didn't know was that your mother was going absolutely ballistic, frantically searching everywhere for you

she had first asked the nymphs and once they told her that they actually had no idea where you could've gone, she went mad at them, cursing them to become hideous creatures 

she then looked for clemensia, as she had also been seen last with you, but once the nymphs had informed clemensia of what your mother had done to them, she fled, fearing your mother would do worse to her

as your mother continued her long search, she neglected taking care of the earth

the plants were dying and the flowers were withering, this is exactly why coriolanus did not want to let you up there, knowing it would break your heart to see all of your hard work put to waste 

“do you think i'll be able to visit my mother at least?” you ask, looking up at him with those doe eyes he could never say no to

“maybe…only if you're good though” he replied with a smirk, letting his hand trail down your back

you giggle, trying to get off of his chest and he laughs, grabbing you and holding you close

“i'm just kidding, if you don't want to fuck right now, it's all good…but you owe me later” coriolanus says, tickling you as you start laughing 

were you really falling for the same guy who kidnapped you and tied you up? the same man who made you give him head just because he fed you dinner?

certainly not, you would never forgive yourself, but this form of him that you saw him turn into over the past few days was more vulnerable, more willing to care about what you thought before he did anything that may hurt you

and if that was the man you were falling in love with, then so be it, you had no problem with that

he showered you in gifts, even bringing you the same pretty flowers that you had grown up in the meadow, unknown to you, they were also the same ones that were now dead

and at night he'd fuck you slowly, kissing you and telling you how much he loved you 

“y'know you're mine forever right?” he asked, thrusting into your cunt in a lazy manner as he attacked your neck with kisses and hickies

you giggle, but urge him to go faster, disliking how slow the pace had been for about ten minutes

he stops his thrusts entirely, making you whine and try to get him to move, but he stops you, holding your jaw painfully to get you to look up at him

“answer me dove” he demanded, his jaw clenched while his fingers clenched yours

you felt your pussy clench around his cock, eliciting a groan from him that quickly turns into a laugh

“fine you don't want to answer? you don't get to come” he said, smirking at your wide eyed expression and how quickly you succumbed to his wishes

“i know, i'm yours coryo! please please let me come” you begged, tears in your eyes and that seemed to do the trick as he started thrusting again, slamming into your cunt at an ungodly speed

“mine, mine, mine” he kept repeating, even after you both came and you had fallen asleep in his arms

unfortunately you being his wasn't going to last long, especially after he found out the next morning that your mother had went to zeus about your sudden disappearance

#tom blyth #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #young coriolanus snow

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader

Summary: Coryo's friends have always been and probably will always be condescending towards you. When you refuse to stay home when he invites them over for dinner, you become aware of the intricate control that Coriolanus has skillfully woven around you, highlighting a sense of submission in your actions.

Warnings: reader smoking, age gap (r is 18 and Coryo is 25), manipulative, controlling, toxic!coryo, power dynamic, condescending behaviour,

Wc: 740

A/n: crap summary but i kinda got inspired by Priscilla and I lowkey imagined cailee as Priscilla in this but u don’t have to. I LOVE THIS MOVIE SM 😭 also pretend Arachne is still alive.

"I want to visit my family later today, Coryo," you mention, casually flicking the ashes from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. Coryo looks up from his newspaper, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”

"I want to see my family later today," you repeat, "I haven’t seen them in weeks." The sentiment is laced with a tinge of longing. With a cigarette delicately held between meticulously manicured nails, your painted lips articulate the words, the smoke swirling into the air.

A hush settles in the air until Coryo’s voice breaks the silence, his tone void of emotion. “You can’t. Not today,” he asserts, his attention returning to the newspaper. Your eyes fixate on him. “And why not?” You try not to raise your voice, but a hint of urgency slips through.

"Because, sweetheart, we have guests coming over for dinner." You roll your eyes. "And I want you here, yes?" he adds, pointing to you. “Who’s coming?” Coriolanus sighs deeply, dismissing the question with, “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does matter. Who’s coming, Coryo?” Your tone grows more agitated. He casually shrugs, “Just a few of my friends, that’s all.” The harsh stubbing out of your cigarette emphasizes your displeasure.

"Your friends?" you question, annoyance evident in your tone. Sensing your irritation, he casually discards his newspaper to the side. “Yes, does that bother you?” he spat in response, his words carrying a tinge of defiance.

You let out an exasperated laugh, “You know how I dislike your friends, Coryo. They’re horrible to me!” You grip the armchair tightly, leaning towards him. You can practically feel the irritation radiating off you.

Coriolanus dismissively rolls his eyes. “Please. They’re not horrible to you. You’re being dramatic—” The room is charged with tension as your hand forcefully slams on the table. “Yes. They are. They belittle me, Coryo!” The weight of your words hangs in the air, your chest heaving from the emotional intensity of the outburst.

It's true. Whenever you're around Coriolanus' friends, it's hard not to notice the condescending vibe they throw your way, the snarky comments about anything and everything about you.

The memory of your wedding day remains vivid in your mind, etched with indelible images of raised eyebrows and skeptical glances from all of Snow's friends as you walked down the aisle. The collective gaze left you with a lingering sense of embarrassment. You were only 17, and he was 24.

You were well aware of the swarm of thoughts buzzing through their minds every time they saw you with Coriolanus. According to them, you were too young, too naive, too quiet, and perhaps even too unintelligent to hold the title of First Lady.

The unsolicited opinions seemed to echo a common sentiment: Coriolanus should have chosen someone closer to his age, someone who shared more similarities with him.

Conversations with his friends were always filled with subtly belittling comments that Coryo either didn't notice or chose to ignore.

Arachne stood out as the harshest among them all. Her comments, in particular, were cutting and had a way of driving you out of the room, often leaving you with tears streaming down your face.

In their eyes, you were just weak. A wife who sat there and looked pretty. But you were more than that, you knew that, hell, even Coriolanus knew that, but he never spoke up.

"They just like to tease you. Don't be so sensitive," he scoffs, the nonchalance in his tone amplifying your frustration. You gnaw at your lips as Coriolanus rises with a sigh, leisurely stretching his neck before heading to the nearby table to pour himself a glass of alcohol.

"I don't want to be here," you whisper loud enough for him to hear you. "I want to see my family, Coryo," your voice trembling with the urgency of your plea. "You can't deny me of seeing my own family," you exclaimed, the words escaping your lips with an urgency that surprised even you.

His response was swift, harsh. He took hold of your chin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. "You are to stay here, do you hear me?" he commanded, his voice cutting through the air.

The forcefulness of his grip left you momentarily breathless. Your attempt to pull away was futile as his gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and expectation in his eyes. Tears welled up, blurring your vision as a wave of helplessness washed over you.

As your gaze meets his with glassy, doe-like eyes, Coriolanus can't help but be overcome with a sense of remorse. His hold gently eases, his fingers transitioning from your chin to delicately trace the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and stay, hm?" His voice was softer now. You swallow hard and you find yourself nodding, silently surrendering to the intricate web of control that Coriolanus deftly wove around you.

Coriolanus tenderly brushes away a stray tear that had dared to escape, his touch as soft as a fleeting whisper. Leaning in, he draws closer to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. The warmth of the kiss lingers for a brief moment, a delicate embrace, before he gently withdraws. "Now, go get ready," he says, his back turned to you as he pours himself another glass as you wordlessly leave.

#coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #young president snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tbosas imagine #tbosas x reader #coryo snow #president coriolanus snow #fanfiction #tom blyth #possesive!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #tom blyth imagine #hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #priscilla movie #coriolanus snow smut #president snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Type of Man

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man who loves towering over his girlfriend. Being tall has always had its advantages, he can easily scan the room, come off as more intimidating by his sheer size, reach the highest shelves with ease.

But being taller than his girl is probably his favorite advantage.

The fact that he can look over her shoulder to see what book she’s reading, what page she's currently on. How he can always be the hero who gets her favorite pair of heels down from the high shelf in her closet. When he can simply scoop her up whenever he pleases because why not?

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man to love letting his girlfriend wear his clothes. Maybe it's because he’s possessive—he doesn’t think so—or because of how adorable she looks.

How his button up shirts fall past her thighs and she has to roll up the sleeves. And whenever she wears one of his pullovers she’s practically drowning in them, burrowed in his scent of roses. If she ever forgot her mittens then he gladly let her borrow his, ignoring how they engulfed her small dainty hands.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man who loves teasing his girlfriend. Whether in the bedroom or just day-to-day, he loves to tease her, poke her, rile her up.

He loves calling her little pet names that he knows will get a rise out of her. Little mouse, doll, bunny, angel. They get a completely different reaction in the bedroom but outside of it, they get little glares and huffs. And he loves it. Loves seeing her roll her eyes and remind him that she does have a name.

In the bedroom she loves it as much as he does. How his low, timber voice drawls them out while he pounds into her, the words dripping out of his mouth like thick, warm honey. That’s when she loves it. And he loves the way she moans when he says them, how her perfect little cunt tightens around his cock whenever those names strike a nerve.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man who despises tears. Happy ones or sad ones, pleasurable ones or painful ones. They’re all the same to him. In his eyes, it’s a sign that you lack control of your emotions.

How can you possibly go through all those feelings internally and still feel the need to cry? To physically prove what you’re feeling is true? But when his girlfriend cries?

When she cries from being sad he’s all over the place. He’s bringing her roses, kissing her all over, giving her hugs—and he’s very selective on who gets hugs from him—singing her songs. The man will do absolutely anything to cease those tears.

When she cries from pleasure he’s cocky. He knows he’s good in the bedroom, but to make someone cry from pleasure? Well, there’s a sick sadistic side in him that enjoys it. He loves knowing he’s the only one who will see these tears. Knowing that the shape of his cock, the tempo of his thrusts, the overwhelming feeling and sensation of him is causing these tears is a great boost to his ego. He’ll wipe her tears eventually. First, he’ll tease her about it, degrade her a bit. “Already crying doll? Too much for my sweet little mouse? Is my cock too big for you angel?”

It’s when she cries from pain that he truly despises tears. For who could ever cause harm to his sweet, precious angel? They’d have to die. Simple as that. It’s more difficult for him to manage when it’s something like a menstrual cramp or if she stubbed her toe. For what can he do? Yell at her uterus? Chide the coffee table for being in her way? He’d do anything to make the pain go away, he’d take it on himself if he could.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man who absolutely needs sex. He craves it honestly. And he needs it from her.

He needs to hear her little mewls of pleasure. Needs to watch her eyes roll back when he hits that sweet spot inside of her. He needs to watch her take it over and over again, absolutely dumb with it. He needs that control, that power. Even if it means tying her up. He’s willing to make that sacrifice. He loves watching her struggle to free her wrists from the confines of his necktie while he fucks into her right little cunt, hard and deep.

Knowing that she’ll be sore drives him mad, so sore that he’ll be the one to bathe her after they’re done and be the only one who knows why she’s limping the next day. He loves when she gets overstimulated, sobbing and begging for him to stop as he continues fucking her stupid. It’s only then that he’s truly got her where he wants her, stuck on his cock, his little fuckdoll.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man to be selective with the kisses he gives out.

On the lips is for certain times of the day, moments in both their lives where it’s simply expected. Like waking up. That deserves a good morning kiss, doesn’t it? Before he leaves for work calls for another, they won’t see each other for quite some time and he needs all the motivation he can get.

On the nose is for when she’s simply too cute for her own good. These kisses are quite rare in the grand scheme of things. He feels a little silly pecking someone’s nose of all places. But he adores the way she giggles when he does it, the way her eyes close and her smile widens. He indulges in those every so often.

A kiss on the cheek is casual yet calculated. He saves those for when he’s out in public with her. For when he needs people to know she belongs to him. He does it when they’re all some fancy gala and quite a few men are eyeing her up, too much for his liking. He enjoys it when she gives him a peck as well. Mainly because she has to get up on her tiptoes to do so and you won’t ever catch him bending down so she doesn’t have to.

A kiss on the neck is a question. Will she or will she not let him fuck her into the bedsheets until she’s a screaming, withering mess? It’s a simple question really and he’s mastered asking such a thing by pressing light kisses to her neck. It’s when she leans into them that he knows he’s got her.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man to promise to burn the world to the ground should anyone ever hurt his precious girl.

If only he knew he’d get burned in the process.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

#coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #hunger games #slaymitchabernathy #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #ao3 fanfic #wattpad #soarynn snow #coriolanus drabble #possesive coriolanus #coriolanus x soarynn #coriolanus x original character #coriolanus x oc #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fic #staywithmealways #soarynn nightingale #coryo snow #coryo smut #coryo fluff

[brknmnds]

Movie Muses

The Invitation

Walter de Ville

Lost boys

David

Dwayne

Paul

Marko

Edgar Frog

Alan Frog

Scream

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Noah Anderson -OC

Child's Play

Charles Lee Ray (Pre doll possesion)

The Hunger Games: A Ballard of Songbirds and snakes

Coriolanus Snow

Tigris Snow

Polaris Snow - OC

House of 1000 corpses

Otis Driftwood

#muse list

[minhos-harness]

hi! for the send me a fandom ask game, could i please inquire about the hunger games (and if not, the classic maze runner)? hope you're doing well!

hi there! ahh, I love the hunger games so much, it's one of my all-time favourite series!

The first character I first fell in love with: Katniss! Like the series itself, Katniss is very important to me and has stuck with me through the years. Katniss, to me, is a very meaningful character. She's incredibly strong, resilient and determined, and consistently displays acts of bravery and compassion throughout her journey. Despite her hardened exterior, she also has a vulnerable side.

I appreciate that Katniss posseses realistic attributes as well (something I find other YA protagonists often lack). Katniss can be stubborn, appears cold at times and struggles to make friends. She keeps her distance from others and is even viewed as "unlikeable." It's refreshening and, in my opinion, makes her more relatable.

All in all, I adore Katniss Everdeen and through the first person perspective of the story in which we hear her thoughts and experience everything alongside her, I was quick to fall in love with her during my first ever read through of the books.

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Oh, Effie. Her development is wonderful; as the story progresses, we witness her growing past her initial Capitol attitude to becoming aware and empathetic of the Districts and their reality. It's fantastic growth and we love to see it!

I'd like to say Haymitch as well. He's an intriguing character to me and I love the depth behind him and his actions. His backstory is really sad and I enjoy seeing him grow closer to Katniss over the course of the series.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: Hmm, I'm not sure... Although I do love him, I suppose I don't love Peeta to the degree that everyone else seems to. That's not to say I hate or even dislike him, though - it's quite the opposite, really. He's a great character and I appreciate his kind nature (something we need to see applied more often to male characters), but again, I feel as though the fandoms love of him is much more intense than mine. So it's not that I don't love him, I just don't love him as much.

Does that count as an answer

The character I love that everyone else hates: I can't think of any characters this applies to for me.

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Same answer as above, really.

The character I would totally smooch: Finnick, for sure!

The character I’d want to be like: Again, Katniss. Ever since I first read the series when I was younger, I've always admired her. As I mentioned before, she's a very strong person who does whatever she can to protect those she loves and cares about. She's a survivor who, despite all her hardships, continues to fight.

The character I’d slap: I think Coriolanus Snow deserves a nice big one. Do I really need to give a reason why?

A pairing that I love: Finnick and Annie. Their relationship is very sweet and despite what Suzanne Collins says, they definitely had a happy ending in which they lived out the rest of their lives peacefully together with their little baby.

Also, I won't lie, I actually really like Haymitch/Effie, haha. I love their dynamic and seeing Woody and Elizabeth bounce off each other in the films is really fun.

A pairing that I despise: I don't despise it as such, but I'm not a fan of Katniss/Gale romantically. I can see why people ship them, but I could never see them being together, much less lasting. As Katniss points out in the epilogue of Mockingjay, they both have fiery spirits and Katniss doesn't need or want any more of that.

Thanks for the ask and an excuse to talk about The Hunger Games @sunny-reys!

Send me a fandom and I'll tell you...

#it's six in the morning and I'm making an essay out of a little ask game ajksflghjnds #I'm sorry if my opinions suck haha #also I'm happy to do one for the maze runner as well if you or anyone else wants me to #feel free to drop an ask and I'll do it! #sunny-reys #ask game #ask

[dotieeee]

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 1

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, will have canon inconsistencies, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 1 Warnings:

Graphic depictions of gore, death, creative depiction/signs of untreated PTSD, some bullying, subtle hints of Sejanus x Reader, mentions of going hungry (poor Snowball 🥺), mention of bribery, otherwise a light chapter

Ready? Level 1 Start:

“Nellie, we’re going to play a game.”

You groan audibly at your dad’s playful tone. You always hated his games. He’d always jokingly cheat and say he’ll let you win this once, and the prizes at the end would always be something you could’ve gotten from the cupboard yourself when propped on a booster chair.

Grinning from ear to ear, your dad shakes a tiny paper bag in the air. He says he has a handful of caramels, a rare treat these days, which he had been able to get his hands on in exchange for one of his golden pocket watches.

“Come on, little plumcake, humour your dad?” your mom pipes in just as cheerfully. “He really liked that pocket watch, you know.”

“The fastest to the car gets two pieces after dinner!”

Your dad hops across the parking lot, leaving you and your mom behind, with her laughing lightly and you pouting at the thought of earning dessert by something as trivial as getting to the car first. Your mom walks ahead and follows him at a leisurely pace.

You contemplate whether running in the midday sun across the parking lot was worth two measly pieces of rancid caramel. You had just come from an apartment of one of Dad’s friends. A friendly visit, Mom had told, but you’ve been on many of these visits to know they were buying food from these so-called friends. Food is hard to come by, you know that much, so you’re thankful. It was better than in District 3, they would say, because Dad would make so much more money working for the Capitol.

“The fighting will be over soon, and you’ll be able to eat as much candy as you liked once President Ravenstill fixes everything.”

You wonder how long ‘soon’ would take, and whether it’ll arrive just as soon as Dad opens the car door and gets inside.

“Nellie, I’m getting the keys to the car! Last chance, plumcake…”

Mom beckons you to follow before letting out another chuckle. “Nellie, come, dear, we have to be quick, dad’s winning! He’s getting the keys, he’s about to open the car!”

It was unfair, really, this stupid game. Dad’s got really long legs. But you take a few steps forward. Besides, it had been a while since you had heard them laugh like this. You don’t get far when you realise you had dropped your pink stuffed rabbit.

“Mommy, wait! Bunny is missing,” you call out.

“You must’ve dropped Bunny, plumcake. Oh, there it is, just right behind you. Go pick it up, I’ll wait.”

“Okay,” you sidestep to where Bunny is, making sure you could still see your dad. The game is still on and once you get Bunny, you’ll be running as fast as you can to the car. You’re getting those caramels and you’re demanding four.

But you don’t even reach Bunny. You get thrown back as you feel little bits of something hit you and whizz past your ear. The wind is knocked out of your lungs, and you hit the ground hard. Your left side takes the brunt of the fall. You could’ve screamed at the pain, but you concentrate on your breathing. The first greedy gulp of air you take is used to let out a pained scream, because even breathing hurts, and you don’t hear it. Instead, all you hear is this ringing in your ears, unbearably loud and louder than the raid shelter alarm that blared all over the streets of your home. The first thing you call for is your mom, so when your vision clears, you try to spot her, but you see nothing in front of you through a thick cloud of dust, except for a raging fire where the car had been just seconds ago.

“Mommy!”

Your arm is hurting so bad it hurts to even move your fingers. You remember Dad’s words to you as he was bandaging your first scraped knee: be brave no matter how much it hurt. You had learned since then to dress and bandage your own wounds when they’re not around. With his words replaying in your mind, you limp forward, covering your mouth so you can breathe through the thick smoke. The dust is now clearing slightly and there’s a lump of something just a few steps more from where you are.

Another sound starts coming through amidst the ringing: the faint sound of car alarms. The lump is moving, slowly rising, but it doesn’t get to its feet. It just lies back down, trying to use its arms, bent awkwardly, to get up. The glint of the watch on the wrist catches your attention.

“Mom?”

Your voice is faint and muffled, but you rush to her side. You try to ignore the distant screaming you hear around you and the throbbing pain around your arm reverberating through all your muscles. Mom needs your help. Concentrate.

With great effort, you turn her over. You find it odd that her legs don’t move with her body even as you turn her torso. She’s wet as you hold her. The liquid coats you and seeps through your soiled clothes – thick, pungent, metallic, dark.

“Mommy?”

She tries to open her mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a gurgling sound, along with blood, which trickles freely down her skin. That’s when you realise what you’re drenched in.

Right where her stomach should be is gaping nothing, where the blood is coming out in spurts.

Her legs are no longer attached to her torso. You stare at the exposed, bleeding flesh and begin to feel the panic creeping in. You try to gather her, and what’s coming out of her stomach, together.

This had to hurt. The last time you saw blood from a careless nick of a sharp kitchen knife, it had stung like hell and it made you cry out so loud your dad had to rush to you. But your mom...she hasn’t a made single noise since that awful sound she made. She’s unable to speak, so she must be mouthing you something. Now desperate, you search that normally animated face, those bright eyes that would crease around the edges when she smiled – but the face you know so well isn’t moving at all, and her eyes: they were empty, glassy, unseeing. Something in your mind clicks in an instant. Somehow, you know. You just know you couldn’t help her anymore. There is no amount of bandages you can place that could make her right.

You aren’t going to cry, no sir, not now. You had to find your dad. He can help, right? He’s much better at bandaging wounds than you could ever be. You place your mother back down on the pavement as gently as you can and tumble closer to the burning car. Dad is right there, you think. Your pace increases, and then you trip over something.

You scrape your knees on broken glass. It should hurt, but the pain does not come. Not anymore. You find that strange, but before you can try to find out why everything in you stopped hurting despite the pain you had just dealt with when you came to, your eyes land on the object you tripped on.

A hand.

There’s an arm that’s supposed to be attached to it. Except it isn’t. In an instant, somehow you know whose hand it is. Or was. That gentle hand had bandaged you so many times more than you could ever remember. That hand had admonished you on the many occasions you got too curious and landed yourself in trouble. That hand had ruffled your hair every chance it got as a way of saying it was proud of you and it loved you.

That hand had just been holding a paper bag full of caramels just a few seconds ago. You know that hand.

Just like you know whose hand it is waving right in front of your face.

“Hey, Nellie. Prunella. Nellie!”

Your eyes focus on Sejanus Plinth, who had taken the empty seat across the library table.

“I’ve been calling your name several times now. Ms. Metzer’s been giving me the side-eye.” He jerks his head at the old woman arranging books not far from your table. “I was wondering where you were, we’re about to start. What are you doing here?”

What are you doing here? Clearly, you had a book spread open on the library table, which you seem to be reading. You’re on page twelve, it seems, and your open notebook seems to indicate you had attempted to scribble notes, except you had seemed to abandon the attempt and resorted to doodling on the paper instead. Vaguely, you remember rushing to the library after that dreadful announcement: that twenty-four of the best of the best in your senior class were to be chosen to actively participate and be complicit in the murder of twenty-three innocent human beings for the sole purpose of discouraging the Districts against rebellion and entertaining the minds of sick, superficial Capitol pigs. You remember seeking peace and quiet, but all you got were flashes of chaos no child deserves to ever witness, and Sejanus wrenching you out of both. It’s welcome, nonetheless.

“Studying, in case the open books, the notes, and the fact that we’re in a library don’t give the hint,” you finally respond with a bit more sarcasm than you had intended. “Start what?”

Sejanus merely laughs at your clipped tone. He’s used to it, after all. It’s the kind of banter your friendship has taken to – one interlaced with dark humour, witty remarks, and a genuine care for each other’s welfare. He makes a quick swipe at the notebook you’re writing on. He purses his lips comically when the librarian stares at him pointedly with her hands on her hips for the laugh he let out that had absolutely no place in her sanctuary.

He responds with just as much bite. “So studying just means doodling a bunch of creepy-looking hands on paper, wow. Is this some sort of new fetish?”

You reach across the table to snatch the notebook back in mock irritation, unable to hide your grin of amusement. “What’s about to start?”

“Most of the class is brushing up on their Hunger Games knowledge, starting with watching the past ones in the projector room. I’m obligated to ask, but I already know your answer,” he shrugs. It’s nonchalant, the way he brings it up, but the mention of the games tenses the atmosphere between you two. Out of all your classmates, he’s the only friend whom you share an open disdain for the Games with.

“I mean, we can just hang out if you’d like…not here though,” he says in an attempt to lighten the mood. He tilts his head in the ageing librarian’s direction and whispers, “Not with that old crone breathing down on our necks. The coffee shop, maybe?”

“No, you go watch with the class,” you say as you absently run your fingers on the macabre drawings. “You’re a sure pick at that mentor thing, you’re going to need that more than I am.”

With a scrunched-up face, Sejanus asks, “What are you talking about? You’ll be there, too, you’re third place.”

“Not for long.” From your periphery, someone tall and blond is making his purposeful way in your direction. “Oh look, there’s your boyfriend. You should go with him, Janus. He looks cross.”

Sejanus whips his head behind him, only to roll his eyes at you. “He always looks like that,” he mutters under his breath.

Coriolanus Snow finally reaches your table and without a preamble, questions, “Are you coming or not?”

Ms Metzer shushes him loudly.

Coriolanus completely ignores the warning but lowers his voice. “We’re not waiting for you, they’re putting the films in the projector.”

Sejanus’ brows are raised questioningly as he stares at you.

Come with? He says with a look.

But you simply cross your arms to drive the point.

“Fine,” he sighs in defeat and gets to his feet. You wince at the noise his chair makes as it scrapes the floor.

“You too,” Coriolanus nods in your direction.

“Nah, I think I’m going to stay here,” you flippantly reply. “Have fun watching heads blow up, I guess.”

Coriolanus opens his mouth to speak, but Sejanus drags him away, waving you goodbye as he does. You notice Coriolanus’ jaw tick for a fraction of a second just as Sejanus grabs his arm. He could be an elitist little prick sometimes, manifesting in subtle ways just like you witnessed. Maybe it’s what makes it hard for you to trust him like you do Sejanus. Maybe it’s something else you can’t see yet, something in him that is yet to surface. It’s stupid sometimes, the way your instincts refuse to give him – and other people for that matter – a chance, despite being presented with no proof of any wrongdoing. Sometimes you wonder if that’s your fate: keeping him, and other people, at arms’ length because you’re so damn scared of what’s underneath those masks they’re so fond of wearing. If only you could get to peek underneath without being wary of injuring yourself in the process.

Except you know that isn’t how the world works.

With a sigh of resignation, you pack your books in your bag once they're gone and decide to go home. There isn’t any point studying for the final terms now when you can barely get past three sentences and the thought of getting soaked in your own mother’s viscera is heavy on your mind.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

Juno’s mocking voice floats to you from across the locker room as you retrieve your stuff. The entire senior year seems grateful that the teachers are being so generous with handing out free periods, and there is an overall sigh of relief that the finals are over. A whoop of victory for some, especially for those whose names have topped the finals result chart on the senior bulletin board.

Strolling past you with a taunting tone, Arachne’s annoying pitch calls out, “Hey Nellie, did it hurt? When you landed at the bottom?”

You ignore the loud guffaw she lets out as she exits the locker room with Juno in tow, who joins along with her laughter.

Festus pokes his head out of his open locker door, clearly miffed at two. “Hey, cheer up, Nellie. Grades don’t matter,” he says with a shrug, before adding with a more playful tone, “You still get to pull the pretty face card. That should count for something. Hey, got any of those fruit mints left?”

“Nice pick-up line, Festus. Try not to use that one on Persephone, though, I don’t think she’ll like it very much,” you tease back as you throw him the entire bag of candy from across your locker.

“Hey, shut your mouth!” he whispers, almost missing to catch the pack of sweets. He looks around nervously to see if anyone has heard you. Another wave of your classmates enter, with Persephone among them. He is momentarily distracted by her entrance, then glares at you and hisses, “How did you know?”

But you’re already leaving with a book in tow as you reply, “Have fun guessing!”

Of course, you know. You had an inkling, then, even before you saw the way his face lit up in your third-year History when he learned they’d be partners for a two-month-long project. There are things that you just know.

And it irritates you at times how irrational, yet correct these instincts could be.

You hurry as much as you can to your favourite hidden spot in the Academy. It’s the shadiest tree in a grove south of the Academy, where other students rarely go, even for romantic trysts. Probably because there are rumours of a dead peacekeeper's soul wandering among the trees looking for his missing lover from the districts. It’s hidden from view, but you could spot other people coming from a long way away, giving you enough time to leave (or run if absolutely necessary) before they even reach you.

It’s the perfect location to get some reading done now that your mind is oddly clear of ghastly flashes of dead parents and disembodied hands. Before Sejanus finds you and begins interrogating you for what he would call self-sabotage.

As if on cue, your eyes catch the incoming blur of brown curls and red uniform.

You let out a groan to yourself. You’ll never finish this book at this rate. Sejanus doesn’t even bother to sit down.

“Twenty-six,” is all he manages to say. “Twenty-fucking-six.”

“Problem?” You glance up at him from your book with an innocent wide-eyed look. He rubs his face with his palms and furrows his brows.

“Look, I know you’ve been distracted lately, I get it. But if you were having trouble with anything, you could’ve said something,” he rants flailing his arm. You keep yourself from commenting on how dramatic he’s being; it’s not like you betrayed his deepest secrets. “You could’ve asked me, borrowed my notes, or some shit.”

Instead of your normally clippy tone, you opt to try and calm him down. “Don’t worry about it, Janus. I’m perfectly fine. Best I’ve felt in days. Honestly, I didn’t think it’d work, but it’s exactly how I predicted.” You give him your best reassuring smile. He doesn’t seem so convinced.

“Well, enlighten me,” he presses. “How exactly is dropping from the third place to the twenty-sixth going according to your pla- oh.”

“Finally caught up, have you?” You flash him a grin while you watch his brows unfurl and his features relax, your purpose dawning on him.

Sejanus does not offer any more words to confirm his thoughts. He sits cross-legged right in front of you and simply takes your hand in his. His gaze is soft, as is the squeeze he gives the hand he’s holding. It’s the same look of understanding, the same squeeze of reassurance he gave you the day you allowed him to get close.

You were in a bathroom stall hugging a toilet as you emptied what little contents of your stomach you’d managed to down for breakfast. You had just run away from the class, a free period graciously given by Professor Demigloss in favour of watching the 7th Hunger Games being broadcast live on TV. You had not even lasted an hour, and what drove you to excuse yourself was a tribute hacking another tribute in half with a blunt machete and dragging the severed torso across the arena.

It had made you see red.

Your classmates were quick to call you a wuss. A crybaby. A chicken.

Honestly you had not known what you had expected then. Your Uncle Cas had always been transparent about what the Games were when you were eight and had not spared you of its horrific nature. You had actively avoided watching then until Demigloss.

The urge to vomit had finally died, and you had been readying yourself to get back to class with nerves of steel to endure the other kids’ taunts. But then you heard him call your name.

You thought he was there to make fun of you.

“Nellie? Nellie, I know you’re in here,” he had called, knocking on every bathroom stall. Before he reached yours, you had spoken up.

“Sejanus? Go away.”

But he didn’t. “Nellie, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“You’re in the girl’s bathroom, that’s what’s wrong,” you had said in a biting tone, already on the defence.

He had seemed just as stubborn as he is now.

“Well, I’m not leaving until you come out and tell me what that was all about.”

It took you a while to budge.

“Nellie? Please?” his voice had seemed so genuine then. “Or, I could just stay here all day, get caught peeping, and eventually be branded a freak and a pervert...”

You nearly laughed at that. Maybe it’s what made you emerge from the stall. You wiped your mouth with a handkerchief and ignored him as you washed your hands.

Eventually you reveal, “No one ever comes here. They think it’s haunted.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Any place the students claim is haunted is a good place to be alone in.”

And that’s when you had burst into tears and sat on the cold, tiled floor.

Sejanus followed beside you, awkwardly patting your back.

He never left your side then, waited until your sobs died down. You had spilled everything to him. How there was nothing left of your father you could hold close, how your mother died in your arms as you desperately tried to cram her innards back into her, how you got so soaked in her blood and guts it had taken a week for you to get rid of the pungent scent, how you often wake up screaming and thinking you’re still soaked in it, how at the present you couldn’t stand seeing a single drop of it without getting sick to your stomach...

Everything.

And then you laughed, because you had found it ironic how you’re being called a chicken for not wanting to ever relive that day in any way.

“They can call me a wuss all day, I don’t care. But no one in the right mind would willingly watch more of that over and over, especially not on TV, advertised as a show like it’s a fucking primetime, family-friendly sitcom.”

And you had talked about so much you had forgotten to read him, what he thought of all of it. Would he judge you just like the others? Call you a weirdo?

But he never did.

He had taken your hand in his. You didn’t know back then what his expression meant, so were gauging whether it was a farce or not.

But then, he squeezed a little, and then you understood: that look he had on, the same look he has on now, told you everything he couldn’t put into words: that he wasn’t, he isn’t going anywhere. The corners of your mouth curled in a small, thankful smile.

The same smile you’re showing him right now.

Your corner vision spots a glint in the horizon, of warm yellow rays hitting platinum blond curls. You let go of Sejanus’ hand and abruptly get to your feet as soon as Snow reaches the cool shade of your tree.

He has on an annoyed expression, just like he does when things don’t go his way, except he normally tries to mask it with cold indifference. Today, he doesn’t bother keeping up that appearance. He associated with you in some way, after all. A friend, one might conclude at a glance. Maybe he does consider you as one, and the hint of disappointment in his eyes means he expected better of you?

“What kind of game are you playing?” he snaps, clearly directed at you.

Sejanus is immediately at your side in an attempt to intervene, but you shake your head at him once. You can fight your own battles. “In case you haven’t connected the dots yet, Coriolanus, I’m trying not to play at all.” You ignore his look of realization and affront and continue, “And it worked. Twenty-sixth means I have two places worth of buffer zone in case a couple of you lot backs out. I’m not trying to rebel, I just don’t want bloo-“

You pause as flashes of shrapnel whiz past your ear and loud ringing invade your senses, your hands coated in a thick, red, sticky substance –

You swallow that lump in your throat to regain composure. “I’ve seen enough of that.”

Maybe that’s a flash of understanding in those calculating eyes you see, and he hides it well with a squint. Maybe you imagine it. Maybe it’s a look of contempt. Maybe he couldn’t comprehend the fact that you were arrogant enough to throw away an opportunity he wanted so badly merely because you hate the sight of blood. Maybe it’s all those all at once.

“You’ve lost your mind,” he said simply as he puts on a blank mask and purses his lips.

“Yeah, and everyone here is the textbook definition of sanity.” You do not wait for their reaction to your retort. You waltz past the two of them, but you could feel Snow’s stare burning holes at the back of your head even from a distance away.

Monday rolls by. The day of the Reaping. A day when district children are gathered, and from among them the chosen twenty-four who would go on and forced to become adults overnight, face gruelling horrors they’ve likely never seen before – which is funny in its own, dark right, seeing as some of them had already endured hunger and abuse and loss even before they’re thrown into a pit to kill each other for survival.

In other words, a special Monday morning in the Capitol most of these pigs look forward to.

Speaking of pigs...

A classmate of yours, Livia, had just emerged from the girls’ bathroom. As soon as she sees you, she comes marching to you in her pointed heels clacking against the floor, wearing a fine suit dress with gold trimmings on the neckline.

“Nellie. You’re wanted at the Dean’s office,” she says with a sneer. “Hey, don’t be nervous! If they ever kick you out, you can always go back to being the district trash you always were.”

Livia, ever the lovely Capitol lady she is, is somehow attempting to be meaner today, you observe. Snow appears from around the corner and follows right behind her, looking smart in a double-breasted waistcoat over a crisp, white shirt. The red rose clipped on his vest completes the look. To you, it’s no wonder why some of the younger girls at the academy fawn over him. Odd, however, that despite how good he looks today, he keeps glancing around him and fidgeting at his collar. What could Coriolanus Snow possibly be unsure of?

He seems to hear Livia’s backhanded comment and raises a single eyebrow. “The name Innis has been consistently topping in the quarterly Math and Sciences Hall of Fame charts since our first year. I’ve only seen Cardew thrice on that list, barely scraping top ten.” He tips his head slightly in your direction and adds, “You’ll be fine, Nellie.”

A compliment? From Snow? The world has truly gone mental. Perhaps another effect of this so-called anticipated Capitol Monday. Maybe it’s like a fever and it’s spreading among your classmates. You might have to wear a hazmat suit tomorrow if this goes on.

“Tch. Whatever.” Livia dismisses him with an eye roll. “Excuse us, the top performers are needed at the Heavensbee Hall.”

He doesn’t follow suit, though, smoothing over non-existent wrinkles on his vest. As soon as the sound of Livia’s heels fade, you address the other classmate before you.

“Thanks, Coriolanus. You too. At the Games, I mean. You’re good at that kind of stuff.” Crafty. Cold. Calculating. That’s him. You know. He’ll be just fine. Hell, he might even win, too. He blinks at your compliment and lets out a subtle sigh as his shoulders relax a little.

“Thanks.” His eyes roam on your uniform-clad state with a small frown. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I forgot,” you reply with shrug. “Works just as well. I think I’m just about to be suspended.”

Coriolanus just scoffs, a corner of mouth lip tugging upwards. “High-as-a-kite-bottom can’t suspend you. No matter how thoughtless and ridiculous what you did was.”

There it is. The old Coriolanus you know. You find yourself grinning back at him and peering into his face a little better. Handsome, truly, but you could also tell he’s paler than usual and his cheeks have never been hollower. Has he had anything to eat?

“Again, thanks for the vote of confidence. I’ll see you around, Coriolanus.”

You both proceed the opposite ways with a wave. You catch a faint whiff of roses as you pass by him.

Before darting over to the Dean’s office, you had to make a detour. The senior locker room isn’t too far off and you had done this too many times to count. You reach the locker labelled ‘Snow, Coriolanus,’ enter the lock’s combination (he’s never bothered changing it since Sejanus figured it out) and from out your bag you fish a box of chocolates you had taken from the fridge this morning.

Using one of Coriolanus’ post notes and his pen, you write “Don’t let Festus see this or he’ll eat all of it,” and place it on top of the box. Remembering you had a pack of lollipops in inside your own locker, you move quickly to get it and leave it beside the chocolates, labelling it “for sharing.”

Maybe that Capitol-Monday-fever had finally gotten to you, too. But no matter what your insides seem to keep telling you, he does not deserve to go hungry.

Satisfied with your handiwork, you take long strides to Dean Highbottom’s office to greet your fate like a martyr. Or a lamb leading itself to slaughter. You get past the empty reception room and softly knock on the carved wooden door. The door swings open to reveal Acacius Innis.

“Uncle Cas?”

Your puzzled look is met with a raised eyebrow from him. He steps aside to let you in, revealing Dean Highbottom sitting behind his desk with his fingers laced together. Your uncle takes a seat at the opposite side, his chin propped on his hand.

“Good morning, Professor. Uncle. I was told to come here.”

Highbottom points at the empty seat beside your uncle. You sit, folding your hands on your lap.

“Let’s make this quick, the Reaping is about to begin.” As the Dean fishes out something from his drawer, he adds, “I invited your uncle over to help get to the bottom of this. He’s an extremely busy man, what with the Games and all, but he was willing to come here because of this.”

He throws a test paper across the desk unceremoniously.

“Care to explain that?”

It’s your test paper for Literature, with barely any writing on it, and a big fat ‘F’ scrawled the in middle and encircled in red. You lower your head slightly and fidget at your sleeves in feigned embarrassment.

“I reviewed the wrong set of notes, sir,” you begin softly.

Dean Highbottom’s eyebrows raise as he slowly repeats, “You reviewed the wrong notes.”

Nodding, you explain further, “Yes, sir. I was under the impression that we were going to write short essays on 16th century literature and its impact on 21st century multimedia. But when I read what it was about, I kind of...blanked,” you end, trailing off at the last word. “I’m very sorry, it was my fault. I should’ve listened better.”

Highbottom releases a weary sigh and starts tapping his glass desk. “I guess there’s a first for everything,” he concludes finally. “Ms. Innis, in the history of the Academy, there are very few who have shown such aptitude for all advanced branches of mathematics the way you have. Minds like yours have great potential to shine at the University, which is why I am disappointed that you would make such a careless misstep at this crucial point in your academic career. Do you realise, if it wasn’t for this, you’d be in the gala right now? Placed in the mentorship program for the 10th Hunger Games?

“Simple mistakes can make you miss great opportunities.”

You know it isn’t a mistake, but his disappointed tone gets you nonetheless. You bite the inside of your cheeks, unable to find words to say.

“If I may, Professor,” your uncle starts, businesslike in manner. He leans forward on his seat with his palms on his lap. “I’d normally argue that grades don’t really matter in the end, here, but Nellie,” he turns to you with a rigid expression, “Dean Highbottom is right. The University would look at this gap in your records and think you got complacent.”

Dean Highbottom points his finger to him, showing he agrees with your uncle.

“Well, in any case, what has been done is done.” The Dean gets to his feet and pours himself an amber coloured drink from the mini bar cart on the corner, before adding a small vial of clear liquid that you suspect is morphling. He holds out the bottle to your uncle as an offer, which your uncle politely declines with a “no, thank you.”

“Ms. Innis, if you’d kindly wait outside my office so your uncle and I can discuss a solution to this quandary,” Highbottom says in an exasperated tone after a sip. “Also, I’d admonish you for not looking your best for the Gala, but, I suppose it’d be beating a dead horse, at this point. Dismissed.”

You bow lightly in thanks and do as you’re told.

Within ten minutes, your uncle emerges from the office like nothing happened. He waves his forefinger in the air and points to the office exit, beckoning you to go with him.

Acacius Innis, or Uncle Cas as he likes to be called, had been your guardian since your parents’ death. Before the accident, he and his younger brother, your dad, had already made a name for themselves in District 3 for being excellent inventors. The Innises had always been drawn to innovation, people kept saying. They established Innis Tech together and sided with the Capitol during the war, providing them with the technology they needed to quell the rebellion and eventually put an end to the fighting. Just like the Plinths, they were allowed to move from the Districts to the Capitol, only that your parents made the move while the war was ongoing. They hadn’t even lived in the city for two years before the rebels decided they were a threat and had them taken out. Your uncle has since then taken responsibility for you and managing the company alone at the same time. He often claims it was your dad who had a flair for business, but he grew Innis Tech to what it is today: the biggest tech company supplying the Capitol with its much-needed technological advancements.

As soon as your Uncle was satisfied with the company’s growth, however, he turned over the management to a distant Innis relative in District 3 and kept the majority of the company shares, so he could focus on his other passion besides computers: teaching. The University welcomed his tech know-how despite his lack of formal education. It was through his efforts that the University established a Computer Sciences College, to which he became the Dean.

Your Uncle Cas is a force of nature, and you love him for it.

The only thing that doesn’t sit well with you is how he became involved, inevitably, with the Citadel as a gamemaker.

He’s involved in designing the Hunger Games.

He knows you don’t approve of it, too, and out of respect for you, he tries as much as he can to keep you away from that part of his work, despite your shared interests in computers.

As soon as you get inside the car, Uncle Cas releases a heavy sigh. He instructs the driver to take the both of you home.

“Guess who’s been suspended for a day,” he says lightly to break the quiet. Mild mirth dances in his eyes as he leans heavily against the car seat, muttering to himself. “Fucking Highbottom getting high on the job...”

This is the Acacius Innis only you get to see.

“Ah, and you’ll be taking a remedial test tomorrow. So, think of it as a study-at-home kind of thing. And because I’ve so kindly promised to donate a state-of-the-art computer lab so the Academy can begin training kids like you a little earlier, they will overlook this misstep, erase that failing grade from your record and let you pass with high honors. No harm done, it seems.”

This is exactly the outcome you have been expecting, but you were hoping that your uncle wouldn’t have to shell out any money in the process.

Perhaps he’s confused as to why you’re being quiet, so he looks at you questioningly.

“What’s with that look on your face? You look like somebody just died. This is about the money, isn’t it?”

You nod, looking at him sombrely. He never had to clean up your mess before, so why was he acting like there was nothing to it? He hums to himself, glancing at you sideways with a thoughtful look.

“So, let me ask you this: you think manipulating your grades so you could avoid mentoring in the Games was worth spending a fortune and getting yourself into trouble?”

Your uncle never misses anything.

“Yeah...” you admit.

He raises a skeptical eyebrow at your tone. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you snap. It’s getting on your nerves a little how nonchalant he is about all of it. If he’s angry, he should be telling you outright, instead of whatever the fuck this is supposed to be. You’re not twelve, he doesn’t have to be this condescending. “Yes I am,” you repeat with a firmer tone.

“There you go.”

His softness surprises you. You peer into his face curiously, expecting to see disappointment, but all he has for you is the gentlest, most affectionate smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“That’s the spirit. Nellie. You fought for what you thought was right, and there should be no shame in that.” He places his hand on your head and ruffles your hair fondly.

You may have lost your dad, but your Uncle Cas more than makes up for it.

“I’m proud of you, little plumcake.”

Your eyes start to burn with tears of relief. You had not disappointed him, after all.

“Thank you, Uncle Cas.” It means the world to you. “I was scared I’d embarrass you, though.”

“Yeah, you should be,” he says with a chuckle. “That could’ve easily blown up on our faces. Loathe as I am to admit, image is placed a high degree of importance in this city. So, next time you think of pulling another stunt like that, consult me first and we’ll put our heads together to come up with something better, yes?”

“I will.”

Your uncle nods, clearly satisfied. “Well, since that’s settled, why don’t we get some ice cream?” He chirpily declares, and instructs the driver to stop at your favourite creamery.

“I thought they needed you back at the Citadel?” you ask.

He just dismisses your concern with a small shrug. “I told them it’s a family emergency. Besides, it won’t take us fifteen minutes.”

“So ice cream is a family emergency,” you make a mental note to yourself out loud with a hint of amused realisation.

Your uncle hears this, and jokingly narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t get smart.”

Enter Level 2

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!!!

I'll work on putting this on Ao3 when I get the chance. Work is supposed to be hectic rn but the Muse wanted to feel loved today 😅😆

More of Corio next chapter, I promise. I just had so much fun giving the reader so much trauma 😈😈😈 all the more broken and delicious for our little Snowball 😈😈😈

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

[fictionalihavebrainrot]

Coriolanus snow x victor!reader (like when he’s starting to be important to the running of the games) and she has pure Stockholm syndrome. He implements the “if a victor is desirable…” rule for the first time and watches over her as she “performs” but he still insists on showing her who she truly belongs to!

Decided to make this a blurb cause im not doin full stories <3

President Coriolanus Snow he was exactly what he wanted to be. Of course he was he always got what he wanted. He wanted you so he had you the first lady of Panem even when he went crazy you were there by his side. Was it absoultly mental of you to do so? Yes thats exactly why it worked. When Coryo annonced that if a victor was desireable enough they were to be used in any way to make money it was almost if he forgot what his darling first lady was.

A victor. You had won the tweleth annual hunger games that is how Snow knew you in the first place. He didn't forget about the fact you were a victor it was all according to his plan. He had set up a "meeting" between you and some pink haired man from the capitol. You were not stupid by anymeans you knew what he meant.

Prepared to do whatever he wanted to make him happy to any extent. When you went into the room the pink haired man was grinning almost sinisterly at you. A protective hand rested on your back. Coryo was pushing you towards the man. So you inched closer. As the pink haired man grabbed your arms to pull you into him you squeaked uncomfortbly.

Thats when your lover finally had something to say. "Stop it" was all he said. The pink haired man let you go and you leaned back into the wall. "Leave" and so the man did. He thought he could do it. He thought he could sell you off to some rando for an amazing some of money. But seeing the man grab at you made him ill. You were supposed to be only for him. You were only for him so why would he share. He gently kissed your forehead and gave a weak apology.

Sorry if this isnt how you wanted it to go i just thing Coryo is way way way to possesive for that but yk i tried

requests are open for blurbs and headcannons <3

#coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas