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etfrin · 2 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | canon typical violence, cunnilingus, Coriolanus Snow, cumming untouched | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus Snow gets punished and then he gets himself a reward

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 so here's another update guys! I hope y'all will like it! Thank you!

beta read by my darling 😽 @nowitsmissing

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Coriolanus didn't know what to expect from you. You were beyond his logic. He liked that about you, but he couldn't help but get paranoid because of it. So many truths were revealed yesterday. His love for you confessed shamelessly, horribly. He had expected it to be romantic, it was raw and monstrous.

Not a tale they could tell their future children.

But it was on brand for them, he knew. He couldn't expect anything less. Snow already felt himself going half insane with the punishment you said you'd give him. He couldn't bear guessing, knowing that you'd prove him wrong anyway.

Then he realized… you hadn't spoken a word to him since this morning. Not a word, not a single glance, nothing… Much like his reaction when he saw you yesterday. His face was blank, he kept quiet until he was alone with you.

Was the punishment silent treatment?

Huh… it's not the worst.

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He lied.

It was much, much, worse. Coriolanus Snow wasn't a jealous man. He simply thought that some people were worthy of more, and he is those people. And therefore, only he is worthy of the teasing smile you were giving to some of the Peacekeepers! They were worthless. You have his name carved on your skin, he was disgusted by the expression you were giving them.

Maybe, he was overreacting, but he saw no need to be this friendly with them. However, he knew a logical sense that being on their good side especially while staying in the district is important. That doesn't mean you have to smile at them, pay attention to them, and converse with them!

You were driving him insane.

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Sejanus was getting attention from you, but not him? This wasn't punishment any longer, it was torture. Sejanus asked you about why you didn't reply to his letters. It wasn't a lie when you said you didn't receive them. And Sejanus believed you easily enough, his attention more directed in showing his gratefulness when you pulled out some of his old books.

Your ma gave them to me, you had said.

Coriolanus believed it. He wondered if Tigris gave anything of his to you, he wondered if you were still connected to his family the way you were with Sejanus.

Coriolanus Snow wanted you to be a part of his family, he wanted you to be closer to his grandma’am than Sejanus Ma.

He revisited the letters from Tigris, and there wasn't a single mention of you. But he had found out they had lost the damn penthouse, however they had enough for food and other necessities through Tigris. It was thanks to the small business she had managed to stand up after she had designed clothes for you.

He didn't try to suppress the guilt he felt as he found out about this right now when it was addressed weeks ago. Coriolanus slowly but surely replied to each letter of Tigris individually. It took all night, but Tigris was family. She didn't abandon him and Coriolanus will be damned before he does the same.

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Coriolanus' jaw was bruised from the punch he had taken. It wasn't his fault, really, getting into a fight with his fellow Peacekeepers. He was frustrated, he wondered just how long you'd keep this stupid, childish behavior up.

He punched back, and he was sure that he had broken the jaw of his opponent. He built up much-needed strength after being here for months after all. It was a silly fight. The boys were talking about you. It was typical of men, but with how quickly the words turned crude he didn't tolerate another word.

He was quick to punch the man that started it and surprisingly Sejanus didn't play the mediator for once. The Plinth boy joined in, helping Sejanus beat up the man. They both got a punishment from Commander Hoff.

It was worth it.

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Coriolanus couldn't take it anymore. It had been days. Specifically, 96 hours to be exact. Not that he was counting or anything. He marched you to your room, he even knocked.

He received no answer. He lets out a sigh, knocking till his knuckles hurt. “Come on,” he said, knowing you will be able to hear his voice. “Open the door,” he commanded.

You didn't open the door.

“Open the door,” he said, his tone softer.

Nothing. He couldn't hear anything from your side either.

Then he lets out a shaky breath, his palm pressed on the wood. “Please, please, please,” he begs, his voice low, “please, please…”

Nothing.

Finally, he tried the doorknob, ignoring the sting of tears in his eyes. He was breaking down, and the room was empty. You weren't even here.

He may or may not have cried.

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After Coriolanus had showered, he learned that you and Sejanus were at The Hob. The Peacekeepers were given the day off, and while he spent it crying inside of your room, you were having fun. That's fucking enough.

Snow couldn't take it anymore.

When he went there, he could see Lucy Gray and several others performing a song. Another day, he would enjoy it, but it was different because he couldn't find you in the crowd and he grew agitated.

His eyes were red, his jaw bruised purple-blue. It hurt, even after the cold shower. But it didn't matter. He will have you look at him tonight. He will have you speak to him. The world be damned. Coriolanus is much more fucking significant.

Wasn't he?

Coryo pushes through the crowd to find himself at the corner of the warehouse The Hob was in. He stopped as he saw you leaning on the wall. You weren't alone. But you weren't with Sejanus or any other Peacekeepers.

You were with Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray's infamous ex and the boyfriend of the mayor's daughter.

You were smiling at him, both of you were so incredibly close to each other that Coriolanus wanted to tear distance between the both of you. Coriolanus could hear the thump of his heartbeat, every other sound quiet in his mind as he walked towards the both of you.

He catches you and he sees your lips form a smirk, as you pull Billy Taupe closer. And closer. Oh, fuck no. He reaches at the right time, pulling him off you and pinning him to a wall.

“That's my girl, motherfucker,” he growls.

He throws the boy on the floor, gathering the attention of several around him. Snow didn't care, he was seeing red. He was beyond pissed. He was seething. He vaguely noticed that the music had stopped as he straddled Billy Taupe, pinning him to the ground with his hand on the shoulder. He used his free hand to repeat punches, again and again until his knuckles were more red than anything.

Coriolanus could hear the screaming of Billy. He heard the cries of Maudy Ivory; he heard the plea in Sejanus' voice as he begged him to stop. Sejanus and a few others tried but couldn't get him off, he was feral. He was going to kill Billy Taupe. He was going to enjoy it.

“Coryo, stop.”

He stills. Of course, he does.

Anything for his love.

“Get off.”

He obeys, his chest rising up and down as he turns towards you. He offered you his hand, not caring that blood was dripping off of it. You take it, intertwining his fingers with yours. Smearing the blood on your skin, taking half the blame for it in the metaphorical sense. Coriolanus was glad he wasn't alone anymore.

He couldn't survive being alone.

You take the lead as both of you walk away from the scene. None of the spectators dare to stop you. Coriolanus and you walk, it's dark and no one can see as tears fall from his eyes again. The saltiness in the air could easily be mistaken that it is due to the blood.

If you hear him sniff, you don't say anything. He is grateful for that. Soon, both of you reach the room you were staying in. You walk in, still holding Snow's hand. Coriolanus follows you without a question.

He lets go of your hand. He gets on both of his knees, he gasps, more tears falling from his eyes. He looks up at you and sees you looking down at him. The only light was from the moon coming through the window in the corner. You were being showered in it.

“Never again,” he whispered, his voice raspy.

More tears fall. He can't help it. He's so overwhelmed by the anger of what you did and the attention you were finally giving him.

“Never again what?” You demanded.

He tries to swallow his pride away. Besides you, it was the only thing he had left. He can't do it. He can't so he looks away. What was he supposed to say? ��I'll never misbehave?’ He wasn't a dog in training. He's not supposed to bark when you ask him. Yet he was. It was humiliating being stripped like this. And you didn't even ask for it, he volunteered because there was no other choice.

“Tell me what you won't do again. You'll never punch Billy? You'll never choke me? You'll never kiss another girl?”

No, no, and yes.

“I wo- won't ever kiss anyone except you.”

“Good…” You clearly expected a sorry but Coriolanus couldn't give it to you. ‘Just forgive me,’ he wanted to yell. Instead, he gets up and walks towards your table. He opened the drawer to take out a knife. The same knife he had used to carve his initials on your skin.

“Not today,” you said before he could press the sharp edge on his skin.

“Why?” He said shocked, more tears burned his eyes. Wasn't he forgiven? Wasn't this enough?

“Just…” you walked towards him, pressing him onto the wood and taking the knife from his hand. You place it on the table before your hand gently holds his jaw. You tilt his head to look at the bruise on his face. “You're hurt enough for today.”

“Then give me something else,” he said.

“What?”

“Your taste.”

It took you a moment to understand what he meant. When you did, your eyes went wide and your breaths fastened. He certainly enjoyed the reaction that meant a yes. He still waited for a verbal answer before he took any action.

“Okay,” you whispered.

He quickly switches places with you before he guides you to the bed and makes you sit down on it. You follow his lead. Coriolanus gets on his knees again. This time to make you scream his name.

He takes off your black stockings with great care. Make sure not to cause an accidental tear on the delicate fabric. He even takes off your heels. You raise your hips so your skirt and panties can slide down past your legs and onto the floor.

He breathes in much-needed air to calm his heartbreak as he takes in the view in front of him. He dreamed of this for so many nights that it didn't feel real. He parts your legs with his hands, creating space between your thighs. He leans in, caging himself. If he dies from suffocation, then he dies happy.

He felt your hand on his buzzcut, your nails gently scratching his scalp. He lets out a whine, his nose pressed to your thigh. He breathes in the scent of your arousal and lets out a groan. Coriolanus could feel his pants getting tight.

Snow closes the gap between your wet pussy and his tongue with a slow, languid lick. You moan above him, already sensitive. He sees your cunt clenching around nothing. He sharpened his tongue and pressed the tip to your leaking slit. Up, and down he moves the wet muscle, his tongue sliding inside of you and you encourage this action with your thighs tightening around his head.

He digs into his meal, letting his tongue wander all over your sloppy, wet cunt with wonder. He moans as your juices coat his tongue. He loves the taste of you. He knew he would find himself addicted to this. He finds something like a bud as his tongue wanders. When he flicks it, you cry out of pleasure. So he lets his tongue work, his hands on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh.

He flicks the pearl with the tip of his tongue again and again, until he knows it's swollen. Then he takes the bud in his mouth and sucks, it was too rough. He knew because you cried out, your hips pushing up and he had to press you down.

“Coryo!” You cry out and he lets your clit pop out of his mouth. He kisses the swollen, abused, and oversensitive bud before he returns attention to your folds. He broadly licks making sure to have all of your arousal on his tongue only, he didn't want to miss a single drop.

He snakes in a hand between your legs, his thumb finding your clit. He used his other hand to make sure your leg was spread wide and nice for him to feast. He pressed into the bud with the pad of his finger. The pressure gives you pure bliss in your veins. He feels your pussy clench again, oozing out more arousal. He licks it all up, his tongue fucking into your walls. His thumb begins to draw rough circles on your swollen clit. You whimper and whine.

The sounds are music to his ears. Quickly enough you begin to warn him, “Gonna cum, Coryo!” He only fastens his actions, getting rougher, sloppier and so much more needy to have you cum on his damn face. ‘Cum, cum, cum,’ he chants in his head, utterly and pathetically desperate for you.

You scream out his name, the coil in your tummy snapping as your pussy spasms and cum all over his face. His tongue slows down, leisurely tasting your release. You have to push him away when he doesn't stop and you could feel yourself getting tired. Your bones turn to jelly.

Coriolanus leans back, wiping his mouth. He looks down at his pants and frowns as he sees a wet spot on his pants. That explains the relief he felt. He had come inside of his pants. He doesn't let the embarrassment take him over. It was too dark to see anything after all.

He stands up and sees you all crossed-eyed. He grins, and he gently pats your cheek trying to get you to your senses. “Bye, dove,” he whispered with a smirk.

As he walks down the hallway he wonders who truly won this round.

After all, he was the one who got what he wanted and you gave it to him just like that.

NEXT PART

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lqveharrington · 5 months

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Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

1: Reaping Day (masterlist for series)

summary: Reaping day has arrived, and the new rule for who wins the Plinth prize has everyone on their toes.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestiveness, loads of fluff, your father and arachne are dicks, coriolanus being slightly jealous again, let me know if i missed any !!

word count: 3.2k +

a/n: heads up, i did change the reader’s last name because i needed it to be more cohesive with the writing! don’t worry, i changed the prolouge to have it say ‘Lovett’ instead of L/N. Speaking of which, if you haven’t read the prolouge yet, it’s linked here !!

You sat with your arms wrapped around Coriolanus’ bare torso, cheek pressed against his back. It was early in the morning, and you weren’t supposed to be there. Your father hated when you stayed over at their home, leading you to sneak out at night. The truth is, you almost always slept over at the Snows’ place. You felt more comfortable with them than your own manor.

But, that night you had to stay over as the day was more important than ever. They were announcing the winner of the Plinth prize and the tributes for the tenth annual Hunger Games.

You rubbed soft circles into the male's back, hoping to ease the anxiety building up.

“You’re going to win the Plinth prize, Coryo.” You whisper as you feel him start to rub your calf. “I know you will.”

Coryo messed with his father’s old compass. It gave him a sense of order in any time of need. “For you and my family.”

He felt you grin and plant faint kisses on his back. “Dean Highbottom will have no choice but to give it to you. You are by far the smartest one in our grade, no doubt the one with the best grades and attendance.”

“Besides you, beautiful.” He pulled you around to his side, tilting your chin up with one delicate hand. “If you win, do you think your father will still let me date you?”

“I highly doubt that, but you’ll win, Coryo. I believe in you.” You say as he takes your chin, guiding you into a gentle kiss. “It’ll be over in a few hours, and we’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine.” He murmurs against your soft lips. He leans his forehead against your own, his nose softly nudges yours. “We always will be.”

You stay in that position for a while, soaking in the warmth smiting from one another’s body. Your skin was soft against his making the moment more intimate, soothing both of your racing hearts.

When the clock read six AM, you knew you couldn’t stay any longer. You do your best to untangle yourself from him, earning a defeated sigh.

“I have to go.” You slowly stand from his bed, stretching out your body. He pulled you in by the waist, chin resting on your exposed abdomen.

“You have some time, right?” He raises his brows, nodding toward the direction of the bathroom.

You run your fingers through his blond hair, pretending to contemplate his question before answering. “If I ever say no to that, I think I would’ve gone insane.”

“Okay, I actually have to go now, Coriolanus. My father will have our heads.” You attempt to pull apart from his kisses, your school uniform on from last night. “I have to get home and get changed.”

He pulls you by the waist, shirt missing still. “Okay okay, I love you.”

You place one last kiss on his lips, patting his chest. “Love you too.”

You find Grandma’am in the other room, offering her a smile. “I’ll see you later, Grandma’am.”

“Bye now, darling.” She rubs your arm in a loving motion.

Glancing at Coriolanus one last time, you open the door to find Tigris standing there. You smiled brightly at her, opening the door wider.

“Coryo, I found your cousin!” You call out in the apartment.

“Were you just about to leave?” She stepped inside, Coriolanus’ shirt hanging from her hands.

“I am, I have to get home before the reaping.” You silently admire her handy work for the dress shirt.

She nodded and called for her cousin. “Coryo!”

You took one step out the door, but Tigris caught your arm. She lowered her voice when talking, hoping that you would be the only one to hear. “I would cover up those hickey marks if I were you, Y/N.”

You gasp, holding onto your neck. Your eyes search for the male who gave you such markings, glaring at his smirking figure.

“Coryo.” You flush red, realizing what he has done. “I don’t have— You know what? I’ll deal with it. I’ll see you soon.”

You leave their flat with a quick pace and head to your own home. You never took the car, knowing it was obvious where you went if you did. Instead, you had to walk back, leaving your hand by the marked-up area on your neck.

Upon reaching your room, you quickly changed into one of your mother’s old dresses for the reaping. It was a slightly puffy long-sleeved, black satin dress with a v-neck that tied in a bow by the high waistline. You clipped on your silver rose earrings, and silver bracelet, and adjusted the silver necklace already adorned on you; The necklace that was given by Coriolanus on your birthday. Your hair and makeup were swiftly done, thankfully remembering to cover the prominent hickeys. You slipped on your platform boots and rushed down the manor’s stairs, grabbing your bag by the door.

“Good luck today.” Your father comments, nodding at you. “Hopefully you get a good one.”

You flash a weak smile before heading out the front door and into the car where your chauffeur was waiting. Your thoughts flickered through many things, but your father’s words stuck with you.

A few minutes later, you arrived at the Capitol building. You thanked your chauffeur and met up with Clemensia by the front, discussing the Plinth prize when an arm pulled you away from her; Probably for the hundredth time.

“Don’t you look beautiful.” The blond spoke in a straightforward yet amiable tone, leading you inside.

“And you look handsome as ever, Coryo.” You briefly look at him, arms still looped together. His father’s shirt fitted on him with Grandma’am’s signature rose pinned to his black vest. “You have to stop pulling me away from Clemmie. We were actually having a good conversation today.”

“Hm, she can deal with it. I’ve been taking you from her since we were children.”

“You’re as pure as the driven snow.” You tease, earning an eye roll.

The both of you saw and met up with your other classmates: Felix Ravinstill, Arachne Crane, and Festus Creed. Each one having a different emotion plastered across their face.

“Finally, the couple of the hour,” Arachne announced before she took a sip from the drink in her hand. She complimented your dress in a dismissive action then directed her attention to Coriolanus. “That’s a snazzy shirt, what are those buttons? Tesserae?”

“Oh. That’s why they remind me of the maid’s bathroom.” He messed with the shirt in response, earning a subtle slap on the arm from you.

“Have you tried this lamb? It’s scandalous.” Felix commented as he ate.

You raise a brow, “What an odd choice of words, Ravinstill.”

“It’s delicious, thank you—“

“Only the vulgar eat with their fingers, Felix,” Festus said in disgust. “What? Daddy not teach you table manners?”

“Maybe he would’ve if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” He shot back. Felix shifted his gaze between the group. “Hey, they called us here for the Plinth prize, right? Because I hear Dr. Gaul is in the building.”

You shuffle uncomfortably at the shared information, picking at your nails.

He scoffs as his gaze finds the Plinths. “Plinth. I mean, look at his spawn. Who would’ve thought that you could buy your way into the Capitol.”

“Well, you can’t buy class. Did you see his mother’s outfit? Sorry, his Ma’s.” Festus corrected himself in a way Sejanus would speak.

“Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it’ll still beg to be mashed,” Coriolanus added to the conversation through calculated words.

“Don’t do that.” You mumble toward him, taking a drink off of one of the server’s trays.

“We all know that you like him,” Arachne spoke to Coriolanus.

He retorted back, “I don’t like him, Arachne. I tolerate him.” He lightly shrugged. “He’s district.”

You frown at his words but say nothing, opting to sip on the drink while waiting for the reaping to start.

“Tolerate him, just don’t encourage him,” Festus replied as Arachne mouthed words of distrust. “If I hear one more time about how immoral these hunger games are, I’ll put him in the arena my…”

Sejanus came over, silencing the current conversation at hand. You gave him a small smile, earning one back.

“Sejanus, you made it to the reaping—” You were cut off by Festus.

“For once.”

“And you made it to graduation, Festus. We’re both shocked.”

You and Coryo let out a breathy chuckle at the comeback as Arachne starts to question him about the winner of the Plinth prize.

“Oh no, I’m not going to ruin my father’s big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money.” Sejanus answers her, looking around the room. “You know what that’s like, right Arachne?”

“Funny.” She scowls, leaving the group.

The men try to hold back their laughter whilst you roll your eyes at them, leaving the side of your lover. By leaving, you had him following you around like a lost puppy; Eventually letting him wrap an arm around your waist. You both make rounds in the extensive building. You greeted those who talked to you or had a familiar face while Coryo simply observed your social manner.

As you left the conversation with your other classmates, you brought up Arachne, finding her sulking in a corner. “You would think she could handle that insult from Sejanus since she dishes out half of the others in this place.”

He hummed in agreement with you, “She never stops talking.”

“Never does.” You place your empty glass down on one of the tables.

Music started to play through the speakers, announcing that the reaping was about to begin. Coryo led you to your seats, helping you up the platform before taking his seat.

“Good luck, Coryo.” You squeeze his hand as you take the seat beside him, Clemnsia taking the seat to your left.

Coriolanus let you take his hand into your lap, letting your fidgeting soothe his never-ending nerves.

“Clem, does it feel like something’s off today? Usually, the reaping and Plinth prize doesn’t require Dr. Gaul’s presence.” You strike up a conversation with the raven-haired girl. “Something is going to happen, and I’m not too sure it’s a good thing.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine, Y/N. Besides, we all know Coryo is going to win that Plinth prize.” She crosses her legs at the same time as you. “You’re going to be drowning in the money.”

“Well, it’s not mine.” You squeeze the blond’s hand again, his thumb rubbing small circles on yours. “It’s his to spend in any way he wants.”

“You’re his—“

Clemensia was interrupted by Dr. Gaul’s sinister laugh, silencing the entire room.

“How tantalizing to see all your shining, young faces on this auspicious day.” Dr. Gaul starts, Coryo lacing your hands back together. “I am Dr. Volumina Gaul, your humble head game maker, in charge of the war department and all its affiliated conserves. I’ve broken free of my laboratory today…”

Her voice cancels out in your mind, your heart racing a million miles per hour by her ominous nature. Something was definitely wrong. From Dr. Gaul being here to Coriolanus being nervous to your father’s words, your gut told you that everything would go downhill from today’s reaping. With each passing second, the drumming in your ears got louder and the world around you blurred, blinking furiously to rid of the mush of colors.

Coryo noticed the shift in your small actions, bringing his thumb to the pulse on your wrist. He started to trace shapes, calming you down to a certain degree.

You return to the present conversation when Dean Highbottom mentioned the Plinth prize. You sat up straight and held your breath, glancing at Coryo.

“However,” he pauses, looking down toward the floor. “I am here to tell you there’s been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth… Because the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the games and simply aren’t watching anymore. And if the games are to continue at all, there must be an audience. So, head game maker, Dr. Gaul has stepped in to incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flare; Starting with you.”

Coriolanus met your concerned eyes when he took a glimpse at you, looking down at your fiddling hands.

“The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades—“

“Excuse me?” You and Arachne say at the same time, frowning at his words.

“—But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games.”

Your calmed self faltered by his words. The drumming and blur of the world in front of you returned with each word that came out of Highbottom’s mouth. Coryo squeezed your hand, trying to regulate your breathing, but it wasn’t working. The careful wall built around your true emotions, which only a select amount of people saw, chipped away. You didn’t want to mentor an innocent person to their inevitable death just to win the Plinth prize. No, you wanted the male to your right to win the Plinth prize through his intelligence, zero deaths included.

“This is a brand new rule.” The dean continues. “As the reaping progresses live, I will allocate each district tribute a Capitol mentor behind the scenes; One who must, you know, just persuade them to perform for the cameras.”

“Obviously, the best mentor will be the one whose tribute wins the games,” Festus added fuel to the fire currently burning at your skin.

“What if I get a pathetic mark girl from one of the poor districts like eight or twelve? They’re just gonna die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before.” Arachne complained once more, irritation bubbling inside you.

“Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Miss Crane. Not survivors.” Dean Highbottom answered her with an unidentifiable undertone. “Victory in the games is only one of our considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project.”

A beat passes.

“Oh, and I must tell you that anyone caught cheating, to give their tributes an unfair advantage, will just have no future at all.” He shrugs, looking at the twenty-four best students in the class.

The music for the reaping blasts through the speakers, making your head snap up at the two screens displaying the tributes. This time, Coryo takes your hand and brings it to his lap, making it easier for him to calm your figure down as the dean assigns each tribute to each one of your classmates.

For you, the only things you saw were innocent people who didn’t want to fight. With every child passing the screen, your heart broke. You never wanted to be placed in a situation where you either lived or died for the entertainment purposes of those wealthier than you.

“Eleven,” Highbottom speaks loudly, looking at his paper of names. “Boy, Clemensia Dovecote. Girl, Y/N Lovett.”

Your eyes focus on the poor girl walking up to the stage. This was your absolute final straw. The girl was clearly sick and needed medical attention before performing such demanding tasks such as the Hunger Games. Your heart shattered as the peacekeepers took her away.

You would be damned if that girl died in vain, and it was your task to protect the girl, not turn her into a spectacle of entertainment.

“Twelve. Boy, Vipsania Sickle. Oh, you’ll be happy about this Miss Crane.” Dean Highbottom walks off the platform, gesturing to the screens. “The runt girl, District Twelve, belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

The screen flashes to the girl from District Twelve as she makes her way up the stage. Something about her aura made you believe she was not the runt girl Highbottom made her out to be. Her rainbow-colored dress gave an interesting twist to the reaping, district people never wore such bright colors together.

“What is that dress? Is she some sort of clown?” Arachne insults the girl. Her words clicked something in your mind, having enough of her for the day.

“I think her dress is beautiful, Crane. Unlike the way you dress daily, you could be mistaken for a district girl.” You fire, Coryo tightening his grip on your hand.

She sneers at you but turns her attention back to the screen when screaming is heard from the speakers.

Coriolanus jumps out of his seat, dropping your hand in the process. You’ve never seen him react in such a way, shocking you at most. The only other time he acted like that was when you nearly slipped down winding stairs during winter.

He remained standing as the girl, now known as Lucy Gray, started singing, earning murmurs from the crowd in the building.

“Singing.” Arachne hums. “Is she out of her mind?”

You whip your head toward the girl, “For the love of everyone in the Capitol, shut up, Crane. Our ears bleed each time you speak.”

She snaps her mouth shut, face red from the embarrassment you caused. You hum in satisfaction, earning a small smirk from Coryo, something you didn’t see before screaming can be heard once more.

“YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!” Lucy Gray screams with all her emotion.

Everyone in the building started to laugh at the tribute’s actions, a few murmurs going around about the young woman. You grin at the girl’s fearlessness but remember your own tribute, your grin fading. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, let out an airy chuckle, a small grin making its way on his face at his allocated tribute.

Lucy Gray takes her bow on stage and gets escorted out, along with Jessup. The screens flash to black and it seemed like all anyone could talk about was Lucy Gray. About how she was possibly crazy or mentally ill. Or about how she presented herself in such an interesting way. She was by far the crowd’s favorite at the moment.

You look up at your boyfriend, finding him already staring at you.

“What?” You give him a puzzling stare.

“Let’s go.”

Your arm was looped with Coriolanus’ again, silence filling the empty halls as you left the Capitol building.

“Are you okay?” Coryo lowered his head by your ear, pulling you beside one of the pillars.

You shake your head, “Don’t worry about me—“

“My job is to worry about you.” He placed his hands on your shoulders. “What’s going on in your mind?”

“I…” You searched his eyes for something. You didn’t know exactly what you were looking for, but you couldn’t find it.

A voice cleared their throat behind the both of you, alerting you of his presence. You tilt your head to the left, seeing Dean Highbottom wait expectantly, most likely for Coriolanus.

“Are you staying over tonight?” The blond asked, rubbing circles into your shoulders.

“I don’t think so…” You murmur close to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you.” He pecked your forehead, letting you go.

You give a weak smile, “Love you too.”

Clutching your bag by your side, you finally exit the building, finding your brilliant chauffeur waiting for you.

“Miss Lovett, your father informed me to tell you to start picking out a new suitor.” He said as he opened the car door for you.

You took a deep breath. Reaping day was finally over, but the mentoring had just begun.

taglist: @peterparkerluvvbot @nathaslosthershit @springholland @psychicpuppyarcade @emma-andrea1 (ask for taglist on comments or dm !!)

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uzurimisery · 5 months

Text

chapter 4: the bluff. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Rating: Explicit

WC: 6746

Warnings: MDNI, rough sex, he's still insane and possessive, PIV, unprotected sex (this guy is never wearing a condom ever), angry sex, he's not a good guy but he's hot, not beta read

AO3 version | Series master

You slammed the dressing room door shut. “What the hell was that , Coriolanus?” pacing the length of the room, anger seeping out of you. “Did you forget what we were supposed to do? We were supposed to play it off, say we were too young. That was not playing it off! That was proposing!”

In your rage, you stumbled in your heels. He watched you curse under your breath, undoing the strap on them and throwing them across the room. Coriolanus didn’t move, cemented in his spot just past the door.

“Listen to me Y/N,” his tone was stern, like a parent scolding a child. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course you did!” you interrupted your voice tinged with sarcasm. “You always do whatever you want, don’t you? Here, the gala, the dinner. Always regardless of the consequences!”

Your words were sharp, digging in the fact that whatever was going on between you two there was meant to be a unified front, a single storyline. You were meant to be partners in the power play, both of you using each other to further your positions. All the work that went into constructing the next five years of the act was undone in an instant.

“I thought we were on the same page, Coriolanus. There was a plan for what we were going to do, but you just fucked it up!” He was always hypercritical of himself, internal monologue pointing out his every mistake, but you doing the same set him off.

“Can you shut up for five seconds! Or are you so self-obsessed that you can't let anyone else get a word in.”

“How dare you try and talk to me about being self-obsessed you narcissistic, unthoughtful-”

“There you go! Proving my point. You can’t even get off your high horse for a minute so I can explain why I did that.”

“You want to explain? Fine then, explain.” you spat.

Coriolanus’ jaw clenched. You were so hot and cold with him. He could never gauge what you really wanted in all of this, and you would never just tell him either.

“I saw an opportunity.”

“For what?”

“To play the part, to make the story so much better. Picture it, Coriolanus Snow, a man who has always been so organised and timely there are articles on how to put your life together like him, rushing into something. He’s so in love with his mentor’s daughter that he proposes to her on stage in front of all of Panem, and he doesn’t even have a ring on him because at that moment he realises that he can’t live without her.”

Your eyebrows were drawn, scanning over his face like you were looking for a fault in what he said, as you dissected it. There was nothing wrong with it though. The show was exactly how he described it. It painted him as a kind and caring man, beyond his known abilities at game making.

“You should have told me ahead of time.”

“I didn’t have a chance. I thought of it while getting ready.” he was lying, and you could tell. Seeing through lies was your speciality. He hadn’t thought about it while getting ready.

You called him on his bluff. “Bullshit. You didn’t have any plan, that was all impulse.” you were digging your finger into his chest to make your point. “You could have ruined everything we’ve been working on, made the past year pointless. What if I hadn’t followed along? What if I lost my composure for your little outburst? It’s not just your future on the line here Coriolanus. I’m leaving.”

Your shoulder bumped into his as you moved to walk out of the room, but his arm wrapped around your waist pulling you back and lifting you off the ground.

“Y/N,” he started.

“Let me go!”

“You don’t get to walk away from me. You need to listen to me.”

“I’m done listening to you, put me down!”

“Well, I’m not done talking!” Coriolanus pushed your back against the wall, pinning you in place.

Why couldn’t you just listen to him like you normally did? Why were you so upset with him? What he did was off-script but it still looked good, and it still achieved your shared goals. You didn’t get to walk away from him when he was right.

You slapped him, still able to move your arms. “I told you to let me go.” He tasted blood in his mouth. When he smiled at you, you felt your blood run cold.

“Are you done?” His teeth had traces of blood on them.

You weren’t about to be intimidated by him. You didn’t cower or beg anyone, and that included Coriolanus Snow. “Let. Me. Go.” your demands fell on deaf ears.

His smile only widened, eyes glistening with a sinister light. You thought he’d be furious with you, and hated that you were out of control, but it seemed more like he enjoyed it. That he liked it when you fought back.

“I told you Y/N, I’m not done talking.”

You moved to slap him again but were met with your wrists being grabbed and pinned above your head, utterly defenceless for whatever happened next. The expectation for him to strike you back weighing in the air. But he didn’t. Instead, his lips met yours, forcing your mouth open and letting his tongue in. You tried to fight back but he bit down on your lip and stopped you. His tongue only became more insistent. Copper on both your tongues.

You didn’t hate it. You were still mad at him, obviously, but the sexual tension that always between the two of you beckoned, its tendrils wrapping around you. Who said some angry sex wasn’t the solution to your being mad at him?

Your teeth clacked against each other as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his midsection. Coriolanus’ free hand moved to support you. Standing like this he was able to grind his hips against yours, the friction delicious. The kiss was messy, both of you trying to prove something to the other with it.

When you pulled apart for air you spoke. “Let me go.” His breath was laboured, just as yours was, the rough makeout session leaving the both of you breathless.

“Not a chance, sweet girl.”

His grip on your wrists loosened, letting you slip free to pull at his hair, connecting your mouths once again. Your moans mixed with his own, body rolling to press your clothed pussy over his erection. Even though he had picked you up a multitude of times, it was always surprising how strong he actually was. His slim build did not give away how strong he actually was.

Everything between you was primal, driven by lust and anger.

Coriolanus brought you over to the couch, dropping you on your back. He liked you best like this, on your back and needy. Your high horse forgotten, and the only thing you rode him. The both of you took care to remove your clothes carefully, neither wanting to deal with a lecture from Tigris as well as knowing you had a dinner to attend in them after this. But that was where the caution ended.

The moment you were naked he had his fingers stretching you open with his thumb toying at your clit. His mouth was all over your skin, biting your breasts, adding to the marks already covering you. He was so rough with you and made you feel so small. But god did he know exactly what to do to you.

Your moans were sharp as he brought you to an orgasm. Everything you did drove him up a wall. Every time he thought he could move past it, ignoring the feeling, your pussy sucked him back in. It was your fault he made a mistake, that he lost his composure, that he went off script. He wanted access to your warmth whenever he wanted.

No matter how much he consumed you, he was still hungry, the type of hunger he hadn’t felt since the war. The one with claws that tore at his insides, teeth grinding into his bones. A bottomless pit that could never be filled. It clouded his mind with thoughts of you, your breasts and hips, the pout of your lips. He could almost always feel the sensation of you against him, biting into your soft flesh. It made him emotionally volatile, willing to risk everything for just a crumb. But every time he got a bite it filled him with dread.

Your perfume, boozy and peachy, a reminder that the only thing that would ever fill this hole was you. That when he was on the brink of death, starving and empty, it was you who would nourish him. Your being the very source of all his problems and all his solutions at the same time. A double-edged sword driving into his heart with every step he took towards you.

“See? Look how good you have it when you just behave.” you weren’t out of it yet, still able to spite back in vitriol.

“Fuck you.”

“Already have.” Coriolanus flipped you on your front, positioning you on your knees with your chest pressed against the couch.

Like this, he got to spread you open, look at what your body could offer him. Why did you have to be you? Why did you have to rival his mind and have such a perfect body? It ruined everything.

His fingers pressed back into you. He could watch you drip down them for hours, whiny and whimpering from his actions. Begging him to fuck you. No matter how you tried to act like you weren’t. You were just like him. Hungry and waiting.

Coriolanus lined up his cock with your entrance. Instead of easing into you, he thrust in fully, jolting your body forward. He wanted it to hurt, to make you feel sorry for blowing up at him. To show you that no matter how you acted out he could fuck you back into place.

He fucked you hard and fast, pulling your head back by your hair. It forced you up and to put your hands on the back of the couch. Your back arched, your shoulders almost against his chest. His other hand pinched at your nipples and tugged at them. It hurt, the perfect mix of pain and pleasure.

Moving his hand out of your hair, his fingers hooked into the side of your mouth. “Your mouth can be used for better things than being disrespectful.” your drool pooled around them, dribbling out the side of your mouth as you spoke.

“I’m gonna cum.” your speech altered from his fingers.

“I don’t care.” he did care, but he couldn’t let you know that, not right now. The biggest ego death to him would be if he was unable to make you cum. It fed his ego every time you clenched down around him, pussy fluttering from your orgasm. He didn’t slow down or let up, fully intent on taking his frustration out on you.

The air between you was hot and heavy, thick with the smell of sex. With his hands free, your waist became his new hold stone. Coriolanus didn’t even have to pull your hips to meet his, you were doing that for him, bucking backwards in time. Each trust had you panting little praises for him.

He wanted to see your face. You felt him pull out of you and then sit down on the couch next to you. “Ride me.”

You shifted, placing your knees on either side of him as you sunk down on his length. When you got to the base, you took a moment to recollect yourself, head tucked into the crook of his neck. Coriolanus’ lips found the crown of your head before he even recognised what he was doing. It was odd. This intimate act in the midst of all of this. He wanted to show you that he cared, that he wasn’t mad at you anymore. Why wasn’t he mad at you anymore? He was the type to let his anger fester, angry with infection. He waited until the moment was right and then he spread his sickness, cutting down whoever upset him. You were more useful than being cut down; however, he felt strongly towards you. The one thing he wouldn’t do is name those feelings.

The drag of your hips cut off his line of thought. He watched as you rode him, your thighs shaky but not letting it stop you. When you pulled your head out to kiss him he met you, enjoying the feeling of your lips against his. Hair and makeup would have a hay day with the two of you but the way you went all the way up, his tip the only thing inside you, to then your ass flush with his thighs made their annoyance worth it. Wanting to feel you cum around him again, his thumb began circling your clit, working you up to another orgasm.

“I’m close.”

“I know.”

Your hips slowed as you came, exhausted from riding him. But Coriolanus wasn’t done. His hand wrapped around your waist, moving you to an elevated position with his dick still inside you, and he began thrusting up into you. “Hold yourself just like that sweet girl.” You did as he told you, your head lulling to the front pressing your forehead against his. With a few final thrusts, he came inside you. You were winded, your eyes closed as he guided your bodies apart and grabbed a disposal west wipe to clean the both of you up. Finally, with that done, he could lay down and settle you on top of him, both of you naked and sweaty.

Neither of you spoke for a while, just listening to each other breathe, your head on his chest.

“I’m sorry.” apologises always felt like he was trying to speak a foreign language, his tongue struggling to make the sounds. “I shouldn’t have acted impulsively.”

“I'm sorry too. I shouldn’t have blown up on you.” his fingers traced your hairline as you lay on top of him, still reeling from the sex. “I just don’t like when things don’t go to plan, and they’ve not been going to plan between us.”

He couldn’t argue against that. Everything was so fuzzy between you. He didn’t know what you were feeling, but his feelings were you weren’t something he could ignore. When he said that he couldn’t picture his life without you it was true. He thought that speaking it out to the world would alleviate the pressure, and make it something he could keep inside himself, but he didn’t. He needed you to know that it meant it.

“Would it be so bad, marrying me?”

You picked your head up. “No,” you sighed. “It wouldn’t be.” He watched you find your original position, ear over his heart.

“We could be allies.” his heart pounded as you traced patterns on his skin. “You’re the first person I’ve met I’d consider that with. I could make you the First Lady of Panem.”

Being the First Lady was an appealing idea. You’d be able to do so much more in that position. It was a core belief of yours that the games were only the first step in binding the loyalty of the country, to furthering the control over the populace. Aid programs needed to be doled out in the Districts. People who were content were less likely to look behind the curtain and see what was really happening.

“What happens when you fall in love with someone? Would we divorce and I’d lose everything, both the games and my position?” there was uncertainty in your voice.

There could never be someone after you. You were it for him. Sure he could find a docile wife and marry her, leave her be and just have kids with her. But she could never truly know him. But you could, and you were learning the true him. And you wouldn’t make him separate his work and home life, you’d dive into it with him, lethal and cunning.

“That won’t happen,” he was blunt with his statement. “You’re the only one I could do this with.”

It felt like the weight was finally lifting off him some. The pressure that had been building and threatening to blow, to whistle like a kettle. As much as he had intended for your relationship to be a temporary political alliance, he wanted it to be permanent. He didn’t trust people, but he was growing to trust you, knowing that your goals were ultimately the same.

“But what if it does?” He had never seen you so worried about his feelings, genuine concern. “Or what if I fall in love with someone else?”

“Y/N,” his thumb brushed your lips, making you face him again. “I promise you that is never going to happen. Okay?”

“Okay.”

With a final look of determination, kissed you, his lips bruising against your own. He was hoping that it conveyed that he meant it with all his heart. He was never going to fall in love with someone else, the home you made in his heart was always going to be yours. The decor exactly how you left it if you ever walked away, waiting for you to come back. You’d never get the chance to walk away but that was the sentiment, that he could forgive you for leaving him if he took you back and you stayed with him. A dove with a broken wing was still a dove. It might not be able to soar in the slides, free from the gravity of the world, but it was still a dove. Even if he broke you and locked you up, you’d still be you.

He could never love another, not when he loved you. Coriolanus loved you. The realisation shook him, a tempestuous collision of the man he was and the man he wanted to be. The crack formed by Lucy Gray was broken open once again by you. He had convinced himself that love was a weakness, that it was something to be exploited. Over the past year of getting to know you, getting to be with you, you had challenged his core beliefs, forcing him to confront the fact that he loved you.

It was hard admitting it to himself. Just hours earlier he had told Tigris off for even suggesting the idea of it, vehemently denying it. He didn’t want to love you then, terrified at the idea of you finding out and leaving. But you had said it wouldn’t be so bad to be married to him, that you’d be willing to be allies for the rest of your life. The truth was there though, written into every interaction he had with you. The glaring reality that he could no longer ignore, lingered in his eyes like a burned-in image.

It was terrifying, the exact opposite of the control he wanted to have over those around him, to have you control his heart. The practised emotional detachment he had led his life with failed in his darkest hour. The fear that you’d be just like Lucy Gray and run. It didn’t matter that you both worked on the games, that he had seen you develop new ways to punish the Capitol’s enemies, that you had just as much darkness within you as he did. That you were as ruthless as he was. The betrayal he had once experienced at the hands of a District dog had him petrified of it happening again.

Could he erase your existence like he did hers if something happened? The thought was both horrifying and tempting. He didn’t want it to come to that, to erase you, to discard you like a broken toy. You were better than Lucy Gray, you wouldn’t betray him. He wouldn’t let you. But he couldn’t come to you with this, not yet. Coriolanus Snow needed you to break down and beg him to tell him that he loved you. When he could see you, lost in your feelings for him, then he could tell you. Not before, not after. But at the moment when you are in desperate need of him, he could tell you. Only then could he believe that you loved him too.

______________________________________

Things have been busy since then and luckily you have been able to avoid conversation with your mother too. Coriolanus and you had no time to talk about your game plan and what would've happened next as the games started. Every day you were at the Citadel, ensuring things ran smoothly. He was there too, doing his own work, but the amount you had to do kept you from each other. It wasn’t until after the games ended that the two of you got a moment alone. Of course, you had been to several events together but you couldn't talk about things there. So when the last person left the production room, you were finally alone with him.

“Did you mean what you said that night on the balcony, that it was hard pretending that you loved me?”

The two of you were in his private lab. You were sitting on the edge of his desk instead of a chair, something he noticed you liked to do. After the cameras had been turned off you had taken your hair down from the pinned updo made of a braid, letting the braid hang loose. The heels you were wearing off your feet and lost in the room. Coriolianus’ head was in your lap as your fingers brushed through his hair. The slight stubble he’d grown over the last two days catching on your tights.

His voice was muffled by your thigh. “No.”

“No you didn't mean it or no it isn’t hard pretending that you love me?” Your fingers were putting him to sleep. It had been so long since he had been touched like this. He only had one strong memory of his mother. They had been sitting before the fire, her belly full with his younger sister, her finger running through his, much like your own, singing a song he couldn’t remember now, the melody lost with time.

“No,” he finally replied, groggy. “It’s not hard pretending that I love you”

There was a flicker of hope within you when he first confessed to you that night on the balcony. You had convinced yourself that he was being vulnerable with you then, letting you in. Was this him adding kindling to that fire or dousing it?

“Is it easy then?” Each word was laced with intrigue and tinged with trepidation. The question wormed itself into the conversation, hanging in the air like the hum of the machinery. He tensed under you like he had been unprepared for this conversation, a betrayal of how he normally was.

Coriolanus’ response was slow, deliberate and weighted, with every individual syllable chosen carefully. “No, it’s not easy either.” The threading of your fingers felt so good against his scalp, it was criminal. “It’s neither easy nor hard, it’s necessary.” He shrugged with that statement, drowsy from the long day and your actions.

It was strange seeing him like this, his head in your lap as he was half asleep. The Coriolanus you knew was a man of fronts, never betraying his persona of unwavering composure and unyielding strength. He was smart and capable, bringing the Snow family back from the brink of destruction. But now there was no front present. He was relaxed and open, the tension in his shoulders finally released as he rested on your thighs. You could see every pore of skin, every hair out of place. There was a faint scar above his lip, so blended with his skin that you had never seen it before. It had access to the same medical and cosmetic treatments as you did meaning that he had left this one there on purpose. A reminder of something that had happened to him.

You chewed on his words as you watched him. It was neither easy nor hard pretending that he loved you, it was necessary. It was a non-answer, a refusal to tell you his feelings on the matter, that itself a revealing statement. He was used to his words working on others, his honied lips spinning the sweetest lies. But you had watched him, seen him change over the years. Coriolanus was a man burdened with his own demons that sat at the table with him. There was an understanding in that. You had your own demons that sat in the corner of your room every night, watching you sleep and whispering dangerous things. Neither of you were innocent good-hearted people, both of you violent and deadly.

But his cracks were showing, and that night under the stars with too much to drink, he had let you see just how much they were cracking. You were willing to pick up the pieces and help him put them back together. Your own feelings were the same as his, you were just better at hiding it.

“My father wants us to have an engagement party.”

“When?”

“In two weeks at my family estate,” knowing your father, it was going to be a spectacle. He doted on you. “But he wants to have a private dinner before that, just your family and mine.” His only family was Grandma’am and Tigris. If you wanted to, you could count the Plinths as family, even though he hated the thought of having any relationship with them.

“That’s fine. I’m sure Grandma’am will be excited, she’s been pestering me about marrying you while she’s still alive to see it.”

“She wants you to marry me?”

He murmured some form of agreement, still out of it. “She says you make me smile like I haven’t since I was a boy. It’s annoying actually, she keeps demanding that I bring you around for lunch.” This was news. Your interactions with Grandma’am had always been under the pretence of public events, you never thought much of them, but apparently she had. More than that, she thought more of your effect on her grandson.

“You should be kinder to her, you don’t know how long she’s got left.”

Coriolanus’ head lifted from your lap, rubbing his eyes as he propped his head up on a hand. “I know,” it wasn’t nice to have to think about the fact his Grandma’am was up there in age, that she maybe had another 15 years left. If that. “I’ll tell her we’ll do lunch then.”

Your smile was irresistible. “Good. The least you can do for her is let her think that you’ve found someone you genuinely love, and who loves you just as much. She’ll never know that it's just an act either. It’ll let her rest easy knowing you’re taken care of.”

His heart sank, and his stomach dropped out and onto the ground.

“Yeah, it’s a good act too.”

______________________________________

Coriolanus paced in the foyer, stopping every so often his fingers fidgeting with the knot of his tie, loosening and tightening it. His outfit was simple and smart today. His father's button-up with a red tie, a grey pinstripe waistcoat and matching trousers. The black leather of his oxfords had been polished earlier in the morning. He felt antsy, just wanting to get this luncheon over with. He shouldn’t have told you that Grandma’am wanted this, he must have been out of his mind when he did.

“Coriolanus my boy,” Grandma’am had snuck up behind him, making him jump as she put her hands on his shoulders. “You look as handsome as always, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

His smile was weak in the mirror, not reaching his eyes. “Thank you Grandma’am.” She fiddled with the shoulder of his shirt, lining it up properly as it had been moved from his walking around.

“You must really love her if it’s got you like this.”

“I do.” The words were heavy. This was the first time he had acknowledged his feelings for you to another person. The vulnerability threatened to consume him.

“I’m glad,” her eyes became teary as she spoke. “Your mother loved your father so much. I remember their wedding day. She was so nervous, running around like a rabbit. You remind me of her sometimes.” she threw her hands up like the statement was outlandish. “But of course, you’re more like your father than anything else. Strong Coriolanus Snow.”

They rarely talked about his parents, or Tigris’ parents, like this. It was easier for them all to let the dead stay dead. A bittersweet ache spread through him.

“I’m glad.” He reached out and took Grandma's hand, offering her some comfort. Talking about her dead children always set her off. They stood in silence for a beat, hand in hand, each processing their own feelings before he shattered the quiet.

“It’s easier to let the dead stay dead.”

Grandma’am nodded, her handkerchief to her eye to clean up the tears she had spilt. “Sometimes,” she acknowledges, “the past is too painful to revisit. But it’s important to remember Coriolanus. To remember the love, the laughter, the life that was lived. To honour those who came before you.”

But he didn’t want to remember the past. The past made everything worse.

The ring of the elevator cut the conversation short. You were here, and he was nervous. This was no different than a public event, you both knew the parts to play, but it was so different at the same time. You were in his family home, eating with him and his Grandma’am, and doing it purely because you thought she deserved to think someone loved him. Doing it because you cared for her. It was here that his history echoed, ghosts of the past hanging on every wall. Remnants of the boy he once was tucked away in boxes, now dusty with age.

As the elevator doors opened, revealing you standing there, those boxes came out of storage and were placed on the table for you to sort through.

“Oh! Miss Gaul! Please come in.” Grandma’am rushed towards you, excited to have you over.

“Grandma’am,” you chided, pulling her into a hug. She had shrunk in her old age and your heels didn’t help the equation, making you bend down to do so. “I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Y/N. Plus soon enough I’ll Mrs. Snow.”

“I know, I know, I just forget sometimes. Perhaps I should just call you Mrs. Snow!”

“Now I think that’s a wonderful idea!” You took a second to greet Coriolanus with a kiss and then went back to chatting with Grandma’am taking her hands in your own.

You were so delicate with her, it pained him to watch you be so kind to her. You nodded along diligently to whatever she said and were actively engaging in the conversation. He could tell that you weren’t pretending to care and that you actually wanted to speak with his grandmother. She was so animated with you like years had been removed from her. He had spent so long trying to protect her from all that had happened, and all that he had done. His actions had severed parts of their relationship, and with Tigris not living in the apartment anymore, she must have grown lonely. But you brought her back, the vibrant woman who could connect with the world.

Coriolanus sidled up to you, arm wrapping around your waist. “I hate to interrupt your conversation ladies, but I do believe Y/N came here for lunch.” It felt so right to have you like this.

“Yes, yes, Coriolanus,” Grandma’am started, “I’ll go make sure the cook has prepared everything. Why don't you show Y/N into the dining room.”

“Of course, Grandma’am.”

Alone, he nipped at your ear, his breath making your heart skip a beat. His hands were warm, one placed on your stomach the the other on your arm. You could smell the mint on his breath when he uttered a whisper in your ear, his voice low and husky. “You look stunning today.”

You were wearing all black today, something that went against the average Capitol woman. It was a high neck mini dress, stopping a few inches above your knee. The sleeves were long, longer than your hands and instead of normal holes, the fabric was spliced up to your elbow. Your heels were lower than they normally were from press events, no doubt more comfortable. The splash of colour came from your earrings. They were red, with a velvety coating on them, and shaped like rose petals separated and hung on a chain. You had remembered Grandma’am’s love of roses.

“It’s not for you, you know.” you took every opportunity to tease him. “But thank you.”

You had no idea what you did to him. “If it were for me it’d be on the floor by now.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing this is for Grandma’am and not you.” You patted his cheek. “Now are you going to show me to the dining room Coriolanus?” When you said his name you mirrored the way his Grandma’am said it.

A crooked grin rose on his face with a small laugh. “With pleasure, my dear,” he replied biting your ear again before leading you through the grand hallways of the apartment. His hand never left your back until you were sat down. You were on Coriolanus’ right, with his chair being at the head of the table.

The table was smaller than the average dining room table in the Capitol, unsurprising given the number of Snow family members there were left. It looked to seat about 10 people maximum. It was a dark-stained wood, a style that was popular in the prewar days. The walls were a pale blue, covered in a patterned wallpaper. The signature tile flooring of the apartment was carried into the dining room, laid in a geometric style with the table in the centre. It was all a testament to the family’s long history and enduring presence in the Capitol, a microcosm of the Capitol itself.

“Have you told her about the dinner?”

“No I haven’t had a chance yet-”

“What dinner?” Grandma’am sauntered into the room, waiting for Coriolanus to pull out her seat so she could sit. “The cook prepared quite a lunch today,” she listed out the menu after she sat down, Coriolanus returning to his own seat, arms resting on the table.

“That all sounds wonderful Grandma’am. Corio’s told me how wonderful your chef is.”

“Yes, I do agree. It took me ages to find one that I liked, so many of them are lacklustre these days.”

“Well I hope my family’s chef won't disappoint you then.” you grabbed his hand on the table. “My father wanted me to invite you to a family dinner on Friday evening. It’s just a small get-together to introduce everyone to each other properly. After all, we’ll be one family soon.

“Oh, that is a wonderful idea! I’ve always had such admiration for your father’s interior design work.” Grandma’am's voice faded out for Coriolanus as she spoke. Rambling about how your father had ‘brought back the elegance of the Capitol’ through his job. Coriolanus was focused on one thing.

You were wearing the ring. He had gone in between rings for what felt like a millennium till settling on a custom made. It was reminiscent of the one he remembered his mother wearing, covered in diamonds and made of gold. Your was made of platinum, far more durable than gold and less like the be damaged by your time in the labs and only plated in gold. The centre stone was large, 1.5 carats, an emerald cut diamond. The style of the ring was similar to an ornate mirror. There were 22 stones in total, each one glittering from the chandelier's light. He hadn't stopped with just the one ring either, he needed to decorate you in the finest jewels he could buy with the Plinth family fortune. That's why your index finger had a stack of thinner, geometric, stack complimenting the engagement ring.

It thrilled him. Wedding rings were no more than a shackle connecting you to him. A show of his authority over you. Marrying you wasn’t about companionship, it was to own you. To change your last name to his own and let everyone know that he would never leave you alone. Maybe he’d let you hyphenate your last name, and you’d like that, it went against the norm.

His thumb rubbed against his own engagement ring. His was simpler, he didn’t enjoy the over-the-top couture and showmanship of the Capitol, a think gold plated platinum band with a matching kite cut diamond flush set into it. The kite shape echoed by etchings around the placement. You had picked the ring out for him after seeing your own, saying that you wanted it to match with yours. It was ironic that you chose a kite shape. They flew high in the sky, a symbol of freedom and soaring ambition.

The luncheon was nice, you had to admit. You didn’t have a living grandmother and it was nice to talk with Grandma’am as you ate. She kept telling stories of Coriolanus’ youth, much to his chagrin. The stories, and how he treated her, were different than what you had expected. He was cold towards Tigris, but he had so much warmth towards Grandma’am. What had happened between the two that caused a rift? Grandma’am spoke as if the two had been thick as thieves growing up.

When the plates were cleared, you joined Grandma’am in the kitchen as she made coffee for the two of you, Coriolanus somewhere in the apartment answering a message on his communicuff. You had offered to do it but she insisted on doing it herself, telling you that the machine was too complicated for a guest to use. But you know exactly how to use it, but that was a secret.

When she sat across from you, both your mugs steaming, her eyes were sombre. “Can you be honest with a foolish old woman?”

“I don’t see any old women here, but I can be honest.” her chuckle was wethered and dry, telling of someone who had lived through too much.

“I know my Coriolanus is a difficult man,” she always insisted on using his full name. “He’s much like his father in that regard, and I would know having raised them both. But you’re good for him. When I see him with you it's like all the horrible things he had to live through are forgotten, and that he’s that smiling boy running around the apartment with his mother chasing after him again.” Grandma’am’s voice broke as the spoke, teetering on the edge of crying.

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She loved him so much.

“I love him Grandma’am, I really do.” candour in every word you spoke. “With him, I feel like I can do anything, be anything. Sometimes I think it’s all too good to be true and that one day I’ll wake up and this was all a dream that I had. Every day I pinch myself to make sure it's still real.”

“Will you always?”

“There’s no future in which I don’t love him. He’s my now and always. And even if one day we weren’t together anymore, I’d still love him and I’d still support him. Just like he’d do the same for me.”

As you spoke Grandma’am’s tears flowed freely, but they weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of gratitude. She saw in you that she didn’t have to worry anymore, that someone other than her would love him unconditionally. Be a sanctuary to his troubled heart.

“Thank you.” as the older woman bawled you got up to hug her, rubbing her back as she sobbed.

Coriolanus had heard the whole thing but he couldn’t tell if you had said it for her or it was a confession of your true feelings. You were always perfect at playing your part.

taglist: @serrendiipty @namelesslosers @glitteryblizzardsalad

#tdoaa #the death of an actor #uzuri writes #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #tbosas #the hunger games imagine #hunger games imagine #hunger games smut #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg fanfiction #smut #coriolanus snow x reader smut

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mitsuki91 · 4 months

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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

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sadalmostlesbian · 3 months

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In defense of Sejanus Plinth part 2 cause I’m still seeing TERRIBLE takes.

I am convinced (and this is my OPINION but I will try to back it up with relevant info from the books) that Sejanus could not have “done a lot of good” if he stayed in the Capitol and used his “privilege” to end the games like Plutarch did.

Reason one: Our wonderful president of Panem is literally famous for poisoning people. The games are Coriolanus Snow’s claim to fame, his means of control. He NEEDS the games. If Sejanus stayed in the Capitol and gave one INKLING that he was going to threaten the Games’ sanctity Coriolanus. Would. Poison. Him. Like literally immediately.

Reason two: Yes the Plinths have money. Spoiler, so do most in the Capitol. Many of Coriolanus’s classmates are equal in wealth to Sejanus’s family (aka the Heavensbees, Cranes, and Creeds). The only reason Coriolanus hates specifically the Plinths for their wealth is because they are DISTRICT. In Coriolanus’s eyes they do not DESERVE their wealth because of where they came from. Yeah, Sejanus never starved like Coriolanus did. He was not really that privileged though. In the books, he lived in an apartment that was NOT ON THE CORSO that looked unimpressive from the outside, suggesting that the Plinths would never have the real status of a born Capitol citizen. Sejanus and the rest of the Plinths were and always will be outcasted because of their origin. That doesn’t sound like privilege to me. Doesn’t sound like something he could use for a lot of good.

Number three (the most important) reason: That is not the POINT of his character. Sejanus is kind and he speaks his mind and he cannot look past atrocity. Plutarch did a lot of good, yes, but he did some TERRIBLE shit to get to that end. Sejanus COULDN’T do that. He would not have the heart. He was too good for a world like Panem, the point is that his kindness cannot exist in a world like that, it will be snuffed out.

Anyway, sorry for the rant but like… yes, morally grey characters like Plutarch are cool and interesting to read about. But I feel like there’s this obsession with conniving characters and they’re starting to be seen as the only GOOD characters because people love to insert their own beliefs or methods onto literature. Sejanus is a wholeheartedly good person and not under any circumstance morally grey. If that makes him boring, fine. But like, don’t say “oh he should have done (insert thing so incredibly out of character it’s insane) instead!” when it makes no sense and completely disregards the point of his character.

#sejanus plinth #coriolanus snow #tbosas #I’m seeing so many bad takes I cannot take it #Cannot believe SEJANUS PLINTH has antis #what do you MEAN

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especiallythewomenandthechildren · 5 months

Text

As If Destiny (part five) 🌹

Part Four🌹

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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"I do hope you know that if we are even a minute late, I will be serving detention for the rest of the year."

The slightly anxious tone of Coryo's voice broke you out of your memorized state. You both were in a rush out of his penthouse and you weren't sure how long it would take to get to the academy, but against your best intentions, you had to stop for the flowers.

Something about their white petals and fresh arouma just sucked you in.

With a reluctant sigh, you forced your legs to move.

"But you are the perfect student. You've never been late and every member of the staff loves you."

It was true. There didn't seem to be a single person in the Capital who wasn't charmed with Coriolanus Snow.

But he just shook his head, shifting his eyes forward and quickly pressing the button to allow for pedestrians cross the intersection.

"Everyone but Dean Highbottom."

Oh yes.

He was unfortunately right.

That was indeed the one person who seemed to despise Coryo.

And for seemingly no reason. He always seemed to be able to chide or insult the boy whenever given the chance.

When the signal lit up, the boy in question took your hand to follow him across the street.

"You know, I remember once Highbottom saw us talking after I gave you back your book for Satryia's class. After we parted ways, he pulled me aside and told me to stay away from you. Something about how it didn't end well the first time. Do you have any idea what he was talking about?"

Still holding your hand, even being far from the dangers of the intersection, the boy turns his head to you. His eyes showed just as much confusion as yours did but with a hint of anger.

Dean Highbottom didn't have to like him but who is he to warn you to stay away from him? And what does he mean the first time?

The conversation seemed to trail off there but neither of you minded. You didn't come to this part of the Capital very often so you were lost in fascination and wonder. The city was being rebuilt all around you and you couldn't help but feel giddy.

Coriolanus was lost in watching your reactions. He was feeling a sense of pride to know that he was the one who opened this side of the Capital for you. Not to mention the reason you got some proper sleep.

He was thinking back on your conversation when he nudged your nearby shoulder with his. You looked back to see the tall boy with a little smirk on his lips. You couldn't help but laugh and question the movement.

"Nothing, it's just nice to know you remembered the book."

The comment made a pink tint appear on your cheeks, now very visible in the morning light.

"Of course I remember! I'm sure Satryia would have had my head! You were my knight in shining armor."

Then it was your turn to nudge him back. His pride swelled even more at the memory. To know that he was able to give you something that you not only wanted but needed. Even if it was just a lousy textbook.

It made him feel accomplished.

Within a few strides, the magnificent structure of the Academy came into view and it somehow even looked more beautiful than usual to you.

Everything did after last night.

"Oh! I forgot to give you this!"

He let go of your still clasped hands and grabbed something from his bag. You were surprised by Coryo's confession but even more suprized by the radiant flower in his hand. You couldn't help but gasp at the gesture. You looked up at him with your beautiful eyes, shining up at him with wonder and gratitude. He smiled down at you, heart swelling.

"You seemed so mesmerized so I thought you would like one of your own."

You took the flower gently and thanked him with the most beautiful smile he has ever received.

He was already scheming of ways to see it more often.

"Could you put in my hair?"

Then you were blessed with the most beautiful smile you've seen. He happily agreed and put it in the back of your hair, in the hair tie of your half up, half down style.

Something you've never worn before to the academy but something Coryo reassured you looked good.

Once assured the flower wouldn't fall, the tall boy stepped out from behind you with a satisfied smile.

"You know one of these days I'll show you Grandma'am's rose garden. Maybe even get you a bouquet."

He knew the day when he would be able to bring you full bouquets of her precious roses is far away. But maybe after he won the Plinth Prize, he would get his Grandma'am chocolate, Tigris a new dress, and packets of rose seeds.

Enough so everyday he could give you a fresh flower that you would cherish.

His wishful thinking nearly made him miss your response.

"I think I would fall right then and there if you did Coryo."

You looked at him as you confessed but quickly looker away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. Heat that only grew more intense as Coriolanus's stare did the same.

He didn't know if you meant you would fall is in pass out or fall as in... well fall. for him.

oh as if he needed anymore motivation to win the coveted Plinth Prize.

Since you never come from this direction, you can't see the usual spot Sejanus would be sitting at when waited for you. Was he getting worried? Your eyes scan the area but couldn't seem to find the brunette anywhere.

But, for better or worse, you found your quite eccentric group of friends.

"Coryo! Y/N!" Clemensia's voice carried through the morning air as you both marched up the stairs.

You both greeted her as well as Arachne, Festus, and Felix upon your arrival. They all seemed happy to see you two (especially you as you are often strolling with Sejanus). But Arachne seemed to be looking you both up and down with a mischievous smirk playing on her colored lips. Nothing new but unnerving nevertheless.

"Y/N, don't you live on the west side of the city? You always come and leave in that direction."

She looked as if she had caught a lamb for the slaughter. You actually did really like her but the girl has so many problems.

Coriolanus had his mask plastered on again but inside he was beginning to panic. He probably could've made a lie on the spot, a skill he has mastered over the years, but he was worried about your reaction.

You were a genuine person and he feared that his lie would be completely exposed on your face. But it seemed he was wrong. Instead of freezing up you laughed at Arachne's comment.

"It's beautiful weather this morning and felt in the mood to take a walk around the city. I just happened to meet up with Coryo at the entrance to campus."

To say the mentioned boy was surprised and relieved would have been an understatement. Not only did you cover up the actual events, you made sure not to let it slip that he walks to the Academy. The illusion that he has a driver like the rest of your peers was still held. Festus then seemed to perk up.

"I still don't understand why in the world you would decide to walk somewhere. We have drivers for a reason."

The others nodded in agreement and you couldn't but help sigh. You have known your friends since as long as you could remember. You have seen them grow up (or the lack there of).

They are still the small scared children who had to burn their picture books for warmth in the Dark Days. They may have physically aged, but you know they never really grew up. Your peers simply hid their fears and insecurities behind their wealth and luxury.

Anything outside of the opulence that surrounded them brought fear and as a result, a great distaste.

That's why Sejanus was so disliked. He was too much of an irregularity. Too other.

As he drifted to your mind, your eyes drifted to the other side of the stairs, shifting your neck to try to get a better view.

"Don't worry, your little side kick is coming up."

Felix let you know with a nod of his head over your shoulder, making you turn around and spotting Sejanus looking confused at you. You smiled in invitation and he began taking a cautious walk up the vast stairs.

Arachne couldn't help but scoff.

"Wonder what little district boy would do without his precious y/n to hold his hand wherever he goes."

Your mouth opened to shoot back a response when Sejanus gave one of his own.

"Maybe you will see where it would hit if it wasn't being held."

He even gave a mocking smile to go with it.

And this is why your two friend groups are separate.

Before any teeth could be knocked out or venom spit, you were quick to grab his arm and pull him away. You look over your shoulder with a rushed and apologetic farewell to the group.

But your eyes met those ever shining blue orbs and gave a private smile. A smile he couldn't help but return.

"What are you smiling at Snow?"

Festus croked. He had frankly forgotten his friends around him, way too lost on your retreating form.

"Well that was entertaining if I must say." He covered up his slip.

The look on Arachne's face begged to differ.

But reassurance came in Clemensia's laugh, followed by Felix.

"I would actually like to see what would happen with you and Plinth in a room with no y/n to mediate Crane." Felix seemed quite entertained with the thought.

The girl just rolled her eyes and began her march into the building, clear irritation radiating off of her.

The rest of the group followed suit and walked into the posh institution.

"Feel bad for whoever unfortunately walks infront of her path" Festus quips, much to the enjoyment and humor of his friends.

The same feeling could not be said for Sejanus.

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"So how worried should I be?" Sejanus's warm brown eyes bore into yours. You crooked your head to its side in confusion.

"Care to explain Sej?"

"I think I'm the one who needs an explanation y/n. You never came to our spot and you were instead with them."

He spit out the word as if it was acid.

"Not to mention the fact that we got a call from your father thanking us for letting you stay with us last night. Would you care to enlighten me how I either missed your presence the entire night, morning, and ride here or where you actually were."

His tone was harsh but you knew it came from a place of worry. He knew of your sleepless habits and to be informed that you were supposed to be with him but weren't must have been horrifying.

You weren't sure if you should tell him the whole truth about staying with Coriolanus. So you tell him the same thing you told Rhayes, your driver, last night.

"I was with a friend. I'm sorry I worried you Sejanus. I had no idea he called you and made you worry."

He looked at you with a puzzled and slight irritated expression.

"What friend y/n? And if you couldn't stay at your house, you know our door is always open."

You weren't exactly sure why he was so upset at the situation but you felt he deserved some semblance of an answer.

"You guys do enough for me as it is. No- stop don't even try to argue with me on this. Can - can we just drop this?" You sighed, clearly not wanting to continue on this topic.

Sejanus looked the exact opposite, wanting to flesh out every detail. But he noticed your discomfort and let the conversation end there.

You both had been walking around the halls, him not really realizing the path you were taking untill you came to a stop and began looking through your bag.

The kind boy, for what seemed the first time that morning, took in your appearance.

"You look well rested. Back to life." He says it astonished. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"I know! Weird seeing me look like an actual person instead of zombie." You were expecting a witty remark back but you were met with another amazed observation.

"You kept your hair down. And look it has a flower!"

You laughed at his behavior and found your mass pile of somehow pristine papers. You flipped through the pages with apprehension at your work.

"And you finished your paper! What happened to you last night?!"

He just seemed to keep on getting more and more lost. Your smile grew in amusement of his reaction and you both walked into class. Sejanus made his way up to your elevated section of desks while you made your way to your Professor.

Professor Rhaen was a tall and lengthy man who seems more aged than any person of his middle age should be. His pale skin seemed sickly and was scattered with small marks and freckles.

He was bent over his desk, deep into a thick book. You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped up to your slightly timid figure.

"Good morning Professor. I understand that you gave us an extended amount of time for our paper to ensure we properly research. But I fear I got too carried away and seemed to have finished a bit early."

You held up your own thick stack of papers with a humble smile. The man didn't take your papers right away, leaving your hand hanging while he was analyzing.

After a few painfully akward moments, he finally took the stack from your hands. You were going to make your way to seat before he motioned for you to wait.

He was scanning through as you just stood there, in the front of the room and felt quite small. You looked up towards the direction of your desk and saw Sejanus give you a smile and a thumbs up in encouragement.

You smiled back, with a little more reassurance and turned to your professor who seemed to be very focused. The sounds of your classmates coming in was heard as their gazes were felt.

Forever seemed to pass before Professor Rhaen gave you the go ahead to sit down. You gave a giddy sigh of relief before you were stopped by his voice.

"Y/n!" You turned slowly and slightly reluctantly. "

From what I've seen so far, I think I will be nothing less than impressed."

What.

Professor Rhaen does not give compliments. You felt over the moon but gave a polite nod and rushed to your desk.

You didn't realize that Coriolanus and the others had made it to class until you reached the area of your desk. You had to squeeze past the blonde boy and as soon as you sat down, you had to turn behind you.

"Wait you already finished your paper?"

Clemmies pretty face was contorted in baffelment. You just smiled and shrugged. The scoffs of impresment (and intimidation) of Felix, Festus, and Arachne were quite audible even as you turned around.

Sejanus took in your interaction and noticed how neither Clemensia nor Arachne knew of your progress. Something they clearly would have if you stayed at their penthouses last night.

But what was even more puzzling was your shared look with Coriolanus who seemed to have a bit of a smug and proud smile on his face.

Like he knew.

Any questions were caught off by the scratchy voice of the professor. His lecture was not necessarily interesting, but today for the first time in a long time, you were able to be fully focused.

You followed every word and participated whenever you could. You were so engaged with the lesson that you barely realized the pen that landed by your shoes.

Grabbing it in a swift motion, you looked up to see Coriolanus with a smug smirk.

Oh that little-

"See what happens when you get a proper sleep." He teased you, slightly crouched, mirroring your position.

You gave a soft scoff at his comment which only made his expression grow.

"A night of good rest, a compliment from Rhaen, and an intimated Arachne? You're on fire y/n." He whispered.

"Trying to suck up to the new favorite student Snow?" You teased back.

The close proximity of your position allowing for the heat of your breath to be felt on the boys cheeks.

That's the reason for the red on it right?

His devious smirk only expanded, showing a few of his perfect and pearly white teeth. He opened his mouth to fire back his own witty response before he was cut off by a clearly displeased Dean Casca Highbottom.

"Miss Vaun and Mr. Snow."

It seemed that even having the two of your names in the same sentence drained him off all his energy.

"Why am I not surprised. Well whatever it is that you two were discussing, I hope it was more important than your professor's lecture."

The embarrassment of the public scolding and the silence of the room was suffocating.

And he knew it.

He seemed to relish in your discomfort and Coriolanus's annoyance.

His eyes seemed to be coated with a fog as he was lost to his mind and whatever he was thinking. The realization of reality and his intention of the interruption seemed to bring him back to reality.

"Please pack up your things Miss y/n. It is urgent."

Your reaction to his words was panic.

Absolute panic.

Emotion you had to swallow, even as your breathing accelerated. You were shaking as you basically threw your material in your bag, with no care of the impact.

Dean Highbottom had already left the room and was waiting in the hallway by the time you met up with him. You felt nauseous and walked on heavy feet.

Coriolanus could see the unsteady steps you took and wanted nothing more than steady you.

But he could do nothing.

And that's the part he hated most.

He sighed and tried to focus back on the lecture and the notes he was supposed to take. Then he realized you must have taken his pen by accident.

And he was right but you weren't really conscious as you twirled that very same pen in you hands in apprehension.

Something happened to her.

That happened to her.

You both reached the main office and you hoped that all your fears would be resolved. But you looked up to see your father in a state of varying levels of dishevelment. He looked pale, starved, and hollow.

But worst of all were the tears in his eyes and clear stains on his cheek. No.

No.

You felt the world shrink around you as he opened up his palm to reveal a beautiful golden necklace. A necklace that held two rings.

The same necklace that your mother wore without fail.

The one she swore she would never take off till death did her part.

Till death do you part.

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A/N: another part down! I hope you all liked it! I was scared of how it was gonna turn out at first but kinda liked it. I hope you guys saw the desk scene as I imagined it (both you and coryo kinda crouched and close as you whispered). I imagined it as if it was a movie and the shot would be showing your side profiles as you talked in those fancy curved desk things in the movie. Also if things don't make sense, I'm sorry it's 1 am and I have been working on it for hours and I'm sleepy lol! Much love as always!

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹

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xlovelybluebellex · 4 months

Note

I just read your little Lucy Gray hcs, now im curious what your hcs are on of CG Corio:3 so, if it’s okay, can I ask for some CG Snow pls? Ty!!🫶

OFCCC! He’s a psycho, but he definitely still cares about his little

CG!Coriolanus Snow Would…

❄️Snow is most definitely insane, but he when it comes to his little, he’s able to forget about that for a while.

❄️He’s a very protective caregiver. With Lucy Gray being more on the curious side, he’s got to be. So that means he’s holding her hand at all times, no going off where he can’t see her, and approved babysitters.

❄️Snow lets her fiddle with his dog tag, as long as she doesn’t put it in her mouth and even then he’s watching her to be safe.

❄️He learned how to braid hair for her! Lucy Gray loves to play, so she needs her hair out of her face. Luckily, Snow learned pretty quick on how to do that.

❄️He will deny it until the day he dies, but he is a total cuddler. He loves having Lucy Gray in his arms, safe. Especially after she has a nightmare from the arena, as he’s kind of the only one who can help with those.

❄️He loves Lucy Gray, but he’s a little strict on not tolerating tantrums. However, if he was a little harsh while putting her in timeout, he’ll apologize through cuddles and playing whatever game she wants.

❄️Some may argue, but he gives pacifier kisses. Just the front of it, then her nose, then her forehead.

❄️If we’re thinking of a perfect world, then when he’s president and in the Capitol, he normally sets down a soft blanket in his office with a few toys so he can work and watch Lucy Gray.

❄️He’s not a nature guy at all, but he’ll trudge through the woods with his girl, just to see her smile. However, washing our hands from whatever we picked up is a must. Picking up plants is a no though, as he isn’t letting her get poison ivy today.

❄️They have a little garden where he lets her plant whatever flowers she wants. It’s mostly brightly colored ones, but they have a few roses in there too.

❄️Lucy Gray is a skinny girl, and living in District 12 left her rather emaciated. So, Snow makes sure she eats as much as she needs too and then maybe one extra bottle, just to be safe.

❄️While he’s not the best at tantrums, he secretly loves it when she gets tired. She gets very pouty and it is the cutest thing to him.

❄️He’s a bit of a helicopter parent, especially when he’s away from her. All he can think about is if she’s okay, if she’s hungry or tired, or if she needs him?

❄️Snow keeps anything and everything Lucy Gray gives him in a special drawer. Let it be a flower, drawings, anything and everything. Anything his baby gives him is to be cherished.

❄️He carries her everywhere. Around the house, outside sometimes, anywhere. Peacekeeper training left him pretty strong, so he never gets tired of it. Plus it’s nice to know she needs him.

#age regression #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #hunger games agere #caregiver headcanons

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catastrxblues · 4 months

Note

hii nadinee <3

the years coming to an end sooooo i need to sneak in atleast another ask that allows you to rant sdajhsdkjah

okay soo, i saw your posst about your rants about tbosas (Im assuming you've watched it? if not ignore this x)

soo i was thinkinggggg, if you wanttt, you can rant about it under this ask bc i love reading your rants and ily

bye noww mwah <33

HI LUCY !!!! thank you so muchh for this askjdklf 😭<33

i just finished watching it and i have some THOUGHTS. but it’s midnight here soo it’s definitely not well put AT ALL T-T

first of all, i just LOVE the fact that they added the “part x : ….” like that was such a nice touch i was so surprised for some reason

CLEM. i don’t know if it’s my memory that sucks, but i think she was a bit too confident and ambitious in this? especially that part with dr. gaul. book clemmie still fabricated the truth of course, but it was more to save herself from dr gaul’s notorious wrath. but movie clemmie did it to make a better impression on her, even went as far as claiming that she wrote it all which is just?? i don’t really understand why they had to “antagonize” her that way.

THE SINGING AT THE REAPING. like the beginning part. it actually gave me chills i love it so much

SEJANUS MY BELOVED. i love him so much. and that part of snow saying to him that he “will always protect him” throwing up because sejanus my love i’m so sorry

TIGRIS too oh my god. she’s just so everything. kind, compassionate, witty. and the part where they added the “you look like your father coriolanus” again, throwing up. i just i love her so much 😭

LUCY GRAYY. okay, don’t get me wrong, i LOVEE rachel and i think she was amazingg (and that scene when coryo was trying to convince her that she would be okay in the end thing after he killed mayfair and her voice cracked i can’t). AND LIKE THE FACT THAT SHE SANG ALL OF THEM LIVE STOP.

but i feel like they made lucy gray soo much more mature in here? as if everything she did was calculated and almost everything she said (before the games) had this ‘sneer’ in them. when, from what i remember, lucy gray wasn’t like that?

and that part at the end, when she told coryo she was going to get some katniss. they also made it seem like she suspected what was going on and was contemplating on doing something about it (which i get because of cinematic reason but). i don’t know, i think it erased the pure insanity of the moment a bit. how paranoid snow is for his safety that he could shed off trust that easily.

oh yeah SNOW 😭 tom blyth was greatt of course. watching this did make me realize how inner monologues can change and affect a story to the audience. because, no matter how good the actor is at face expression, you can never replace the running unfiltered thoughts that goes through a character’s mind.

like. honestly, if i had only watched the movie, maybe i would’ve violently shipped snowbaird too. cool if you do!! and i do get the whole appeal about doomed by the narratives, but i personally just never really liked or shipped them because of how disgustingly possessive snow is of her. how he had once thought that it’d be better to have her locked up in the capitol, his his his for like so many pages, etc.

i feel like the lack of snow’s inner monologue is definitely the reason why we now have so many people babygirling and justifying his actions. don’t know just something to think about i guess.

OH AND THE FACT THAT WE DONT HAVE THE “it’s not over until the mockingjay sings”??? jail that’s literally one of the best quotes from the book and it could’ve been SUCH a cinematic moment i don’t know why they cut that

that’s itt i think i don’t really want for this to go too long 😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GIVING ME A REASON TO DO THIS LUCY I LOVE YOU hope you’re having a wonderful holiday 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

#💌#<3 #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

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deaddovecoterie · 3 years

Text

confessions

co-written with @whoseblogsthis

Peeta Mellark x Fem!Reader

Prompt: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you!”

Fandom: the hunger games

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): swearing, unedited, two oblivious dumbasses in love

Genre(s): angst, fluff

A/N: LMAO HI GUYSSSS. so i had the INSANE privilege of writing with my mutual, friend, and insanely talented writer, @whoseblogsthis, ky. i obviously couldn’t have done this without her and im so so blown away by her and her talents. this is basically our child and baby and so im basically screaming right now cause we just finished this and its 1:01am. ANYWAY i really really hope you guys love this as much as we loved writing it <3 mwuah love you all

main stuff -> y/n (your name)

-> e/c (your eye colour)

-> y/l/n (your last name)

Peeta Mellark.

He was your constant; your rock. You could rely on him for anything and everything.

He was the steadiest thing you’d had in your life for a long time now, but as he took your wrist and led you upstairs away from the party, you couldn’t help but feel the anger bubble up in your chest.

“Peeta, what—”

“Why?” he nearly shouts. Peeta is mild mannered. He’s many things, actually; polite, charming, and personable, but angry was not one of them. It didn’t scare you like you’d always expected it to, but rather frustrated you.

“Why what, Peeta?” you hiss back.

He looks at you as if you had just grown two heads, his brows knit together in disbelief.

“You’re joking,” he breathes. You shake your head, not understanding what he is trying to get at. You defensively cross your arms, knowing the juvenile element would annoy him, but having nothing to do with your hands increases your already anxious state.

“That guy,”

“That guy?”

“Yes, y/n, yes. That guy that was just a little too friendly with you? So close to you that he was practically crawling under your goddamn skin? What were you thinking?”

You laugh at him, unable to contain it. “I can handle myself perfectly fine. Why are you being such an ass?” you all but shout at him. “It’s none of your business anyway?”

“Hm, let’s see y/n, he could’ve, god, I don’t know, taken advantage of you?”

You scoff, unable to handle his cliché statement.

He brings his hands up and pushes his hair back, looking up at the ceiling as he exhales heavily through his nose. You squint at him, unable to read the emotions on his face.

“What is up with you?” you whisper, not quite sure if he was able to hear. Your eyes narrow, unsure of what his next words might be.

“For someone so smart, you can be so goddamn oblivious sometimes, y/l/s.”

“Oh my god, what is with all the stupid riddles tonight? I can’t read your mind! You can’t expect me to just know things,” you exasperate, throwing your hands out in front of you. “For someone who’s supposed to be good at communication, you’re doing a pretty shitty job of displaying it,” you spit, throwing his words right back at him.

“Fine,” he hisses, starting to move towards you.

You cock your eyebrow at him, your bodies coming closer, nearly closing the gap.

“Fine?” you question.

“Yeah.” he huffs out, repeating the word with an heir of finality, “yeah.” His breath warms your face, the scent of vodka invading your senses.

Your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of his proximity. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. He can’t meet your eyes, his heart hammering against his chest so loud that it feels as though you can hear it. His head drops along with his gaze, studying the floor before chancing a glance at you. Peeta lets go of a breathy laugh as words tumble out of his mouth.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he breathes, his words choked, hardly audible, him now looking you right in the eyes. Your stomach does a flip once, unsure of his next words. Blue eyes stare at your e/c ones that are clouded in confusion. You can feel his frustration start to build as he takes a step back from you, his voice rising and hands coming from his sides.

“I’m in love with you,” he bursts out.

Oh my god.

You stare at him in shock, his proclamation stunning you. You blink once, twice, as his words echoing through your head.

His hazel eyes bore into your e/c ones, willing you to say something, anything, to let him know you heard him. But yet you stand there, unable to find the words.

Nothing is coming out.

Say something, you beg yourself, wanting to scream out an answer, yet your mouth continues to remain shut. You swallow hard, your tongue feeling like sandpaper. How could you be so oblivious to his feelings? You and him have known each other since childhood, yet there you are, standing only inches away from him, the truth finally known. It seemed

The look in his eyes is absolutely heart-wrenching; if you hadn’t just heard him, you’d have thought he had lost his best friend. In a way, you guess, he had.

Peeta just shakes his head softly, shrugging his shoulders in such a way that makes you want to reach out and take his hand. His dark waves fall over his eyes and he turns around, facing the door.

“I—” you begin, but you know it’s too late.

“Just, um, forget it, y/n,” his voice soft, small, “I’ll see you in environmental studies.”

He opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. You want to scream, to tell him to come back.

“Dammit!” you exclaim, throwing your red solo cup as hard as you can at the wall. The contents spill all over, some of the liquid splashing on you but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You reach to pull at your loosely braided hair, a habit of yours that came out whenever you were experiencing an excess of negative emotions, before you realize where you are. You harshly rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you remind yourself to breathe.

In, out . . . In, out.

“Get it together,” you tell yourself, taking one last deep breath. “Okay.”

You turn to head back downstairs to the party, nothing on your mind except finding Peeta and setting everything straight, hoping at this point that that was even a possibility anymore.

God, you hated this part. You hated having to make up. Saying sorry was never your strong suit, your pride always getting in the way. But this? This was not a matter of pride. This was about finally coming to terms with the truth that you so desperately tried to avoid for years.

You almost trip as you descend the stairs, looking everywhere for Peeta but unable to find him anywhere in the crowd.

Spotting a head of wavy bronze hair by the water cooler, you rush over to your english lit classmate, who is also a friend of Peeta’s; Finnick Odair.

“Hey Finnick,” you say once you reach him, trying to keep your voice even. He greets you with his signature smirk before bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip.

“Ah, y/n, having a good time I trust?”

“Trying to,” you grumble. Finnick gives you a quizzical look before you proceed; “Have you seen Peeta?” You can’t help but notice the slight crack in your voice when you say his name.

“Yeah,” he confirms, “I saw him leave a few minutes ago. Seemed pretty upset.”

“Yeah, wonder why,” you mutter bitterly, knowing he wouldn’t hear your words above the music.

You bite your lip, weighing the option of asking Finnick to help you find Peeta. Half of you wanted to go and find him yourself, your need to get the weight off your chest as quickly as possible, the other half of you wanting to stall for as long as you could.

“Could you text him? Ask him where he is?”

“Why can’t you?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. “Because, I—”

“Wait,” Finnick’s smile widens. “Wait, are you the reason he’s upset?”

Your silence is enough for him. His dopey smile falters for a moment, an emotion that you could only define as realization sweeping over his face. He shakes his head softly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and opening his texts. His thumbs glide swiftly across the screen as he compiles a message to send to Peeta.

You can’t have been standing there for more than a minute when his phone dings. Finnick flashes you the screen.

From: Pita Bread

I’m fine... at the pond.

“Thank you, Finnick, really,” you breathe.

He just nods, taking another sip of his drink.

You rush out of the frat house the party was being held in, running across the street to Panem University’s main campus, willing your legs to go faster.

The pond was at the northern end of campus, smack in the middle of Tribute Hall and the Coriolanus Snow Study Center. You see a silhouette sitting on one of the few stone benches surrounding the body of tranquil water, tossing handfuls of what you can only assume is trail mix at the ducks that liked to take up at the pond.

You slow down, bringing your footfalls to a trot, then silently padding your way over the grass towards him. Your chest is heaving from the exertion as you try to make your breaths even.

“Peeta,” You call out, your voice void of any venom as you stalk towards the boy. You’re almost inclined to slap him because of how he acted. No rational person could expect someone to give them an answer to a question as heavily weighed as that right away.

He stands up once you reach him, refusing to look you in the eyes. For a fleeting moment, you catch the grief-stricken look in his usually bright eyes and it’s enough to keep you from raising your hand at him.

“Why did you leave like that?” you breathe out. He shrugs a shoulder with almost casual indifference. “Peeta.” you nearly plead, looking at him as your eyebrows knit together.

“What did you expect me to do?” he says feebly.

You look up at the night sky, inhaling deeply as you hurriedly send off a prayer to whatever higher power that you can say everything you want to say to him, in the way you want to say it.

In a way that says something to him. Means something.

The stars seem to twinkle brighter, almost like they received your message. God, this is so hard.

Peeta is still looking anywhere but at you, his focus now on the ducks idling in the water.

“You could have waited for me,” you say. “I mean, come on! That was… big. A big thing to drop on me,” you add, “so of course I was shocked. But if you had just waited for me . . .”

“What?” he snorts, finally looking you in the eyes. “What would you have said that couldn’t have possibly made me feel like more of a fool than I already was? What—”

“I love you,” you blurt.

Here it goes.

“And not in a ‘you’ve always been there for me, so I’m kind of indebted to you’ kind of way but in a way that’s like, ‘I want to do cheesy stuff with you because I know it will make you smile.’ That’s like, I would do anything, anything to prove to you that I’m worthy of your love. Peeta, you’ve seen everything I was and everything I am, and it just— I just couldn’t believe when you said that . . . But I— I trust you with everything in me and it frightens me, because you know I’ve been hurt before, but I can’t deny that everything feels right when I’m with you. I just. I want another chance. If, if you’ll let me.” You breath the words out, hardly anything but air coming out.

“Y/n, breathe.”

“Right,” you exhale, your mind swirling around, making vertigo seem like a walk in the park.

“You’re not . . . unworthy of love,” Peeta begins but he stops, trying to figure out his words. “What Cato did to you, it doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love. He’s.. an asshole, who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I— I’m sorry for dropping it on you like that, but seeing you with that guy, he just reminded me so much of Cato, and it made me so mad because I didn’t want you to go through that again, and I.. couldn’t help but think it was my final chance to tell you how I felt.”

“Final chance?”

“Y/n, I’ve loved you since like year six.”

“Peeta, you absolute dumbass!” you exclaim, quickly going to cover your mouth as your own words shock even yourself. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . wow,” a laugh nearly escapes your lips. “We’re both oblivious fools, huh?”

Peeta’s brows furrow in confusion, as you let out a soft chuckle. His head is tilted slightly to the side, his soft curls falling into his blue eyes. This moment is one you’ll always remember, you think to yourself, already trying to commit it to memory. The way the trees slightly sway from the late summer breeze, the moonlight reflecting off the water; best of all, the glint in Peeta’s eye when your gazes meet. It’s so cheesy, really, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve played it over and over in your head for years, different scenarios always being formulated, but nothing you could have ever dreamt of could compare to this moment.

“I’ve loved you since year seven,” you tell him, every word of it true. “I can’t believe it took us both this long. Could have avoided the whole Cato fiasco of year twelve, I suppose, if we had just . . . had the gall to tell each other back then, I guess,” you say, the last sentence mumbled.

“Yeah.” Peeta laughs, a genuine deep laugh that reaches his eyes. It rouses the butterflies that have been in the pit of your stomach, the fluttering making you nervous as you watch him scratch the base of his neck almost embarrassedly.

“So,” you say, dragging the ‘o’ sound. “Pretty sure this is the part where most people would kiss.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“No, not you, Peeta. I was talking to the duck behind you,” You frown, unable to contain the scoff that passes your lips. “Yes.. yes, I want to kiss you,” you breathe, your pulse hammering.

You step forward, your hands reaching up, gliding against his cheeks, his hands resting on your waist. In a moment of bravery, you place your lips against his. They’re soft, and he tastes like cedar and bread, and it’s like coming home, being in his arms as his lips move against yours, the breeze chilling your skin but his warming you.

There are no words spoken between the two of you as you both pull away. His eyes are still closed, his long eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks; the corners of his mouth are pulled up slightly.

God, he’s beautiful. So beautiful. That word is usually reserved for sceneries, sunsets or pretty dresses, but in this moment, you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

“Finally!” someone shouts, causing the both of you to jump back from each other, acting like two first years getting caught passing notes in class. You look around before your eyes land on Johanna Mason, leaning against the statue of the university founder Alma Coin that’s off to the left of the entrance of the study center. Finnick is with her, his signature smirk gracing his elegant features once more. “We were wondering when you two would have the balls to tell each other how you felt.”

“It seems everyone knew but you two,” Finnick adds with a deep chuckle.

“Alright, Finny, I think we should leave the two lovebirds alone.” Johanna says, turning away. “Be safe, you two!”

“If you need anything,” Finnick winks at Peeta. “You know where to reach me.”

You laugh softly, leaning your head against Peeta’s chest. His arms wrap around you, encasing you in him. His cheeks rests on the top of your head, his breaths evening out as you listen to his steady heart beat.

This is it. This is home.

#thg #the hunger games #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x y/n #thg fanfiction #thg fandom #suzanne collins #haley writes #ky tag #fanfiction #fanfic #thg fanfic #the hunger games fanfiction

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thgfanficinspo · 3 years

Text

Fear of the Water - Ch 18

Finnick deals with the fallout from Annie’s breakdown (some sexy Capitol Finnick) (Henry Cavill was my fancast for Finnick before the movie came out)

My AO3 - Chapter 1 - Jonsa - Coryo - Discovery of Witches

(ANNIE)

When I wake up, I’m in a white tube. It’s small so small and I’m strapped down – arms, legs, body, even head. There’s a whirring, buzzing sound coming from within the walls. Then there are voices.

“Aw, shit, she’s awake.”

“Should we put her back down?”

I struggle against my bonds. Are they going to kill me? Why am I here? What are they doing to me?

“Yeah, she’s gonna fuss.”

There are footsteps now – coming toward me. I try to tear my arms out of their bonds but nothing happens. I scream. The voices yell to one another and I scream and I scream and I scream. I don’t want this. Finnick and Mags said it was over now and I was safe and I don’t think they’d lie to me but maybe they did or maybe they never said it at all I don’t want to die.

There’s a sharp pain in my right thigh. Then it goes dark.

(FINNICK)

We’re supposed to go back to that damn waiting room with the grey walls and floor-length windows and fake orchid.

I skulk around in the hallway after the others have gone inside, hoping to catch a moment alone with the female doctor who flirted with me. She comes out through a doorway which she locks behind her. She’s too distracted by the papers in her hand to notice me. I clear my throat and she looks up.

“Mr. Odair. Shouldn’t you be in the waiting room?”

“It’s a bit stuffy in their for my taste,” I say. “Especially after all that drama.” I straighten up and close the space between us.

“Yes, that was really something,” she agrees. Her eyes rake my body up and down. She has to turn away.

“Have you ever seen anything like that before?”

“I haven’t personally.”

“No?” I’m not nearly as smooth as I usually am. I’m too anxious to be charming. “Annie’s something special then.” I step up behind her and move her hair away from the side of her neck. “Like you.” I press my lips to the side of her neck and she nearly collapses. I keep my arms tight around her waist and pull her against me.

She gasps my name.

“Will you tell me something?”

“What?” she asks breathlessly.

I flick the tip of my tongue over the pulse-point of her throat. “What are you planning to do with Annie Cresta?”

“Anthea!” We both look up. Her male colleague is standing at the other end of the hallway. He’s a good ten years younger than she is, but he has an air of superiority about him. And he looks pissed.

The woman – Anthea, I guess – goes ramrod straight and tosses off my arms. “It’s not –”

“We need to talk,” he says simply, his glaring eyes locked on mine. Anthea hustles down the hall and through the door the male doctor came through. He and I maintain eye contact as long as possible, until the door shuts behind him.

I growl under my breath. “Fuck.”

I’ve definitely made things worse. If that other damn doctor hadn’t come in . . .

Mags is pacing around the room with one of her hands over her mouth when I come in. Proteus stands a few feet away from me, apparently deep in thought. Eefa has made a surprise visit, which she clearly regrets. No sign of Broadsea, but that’s no surprise. He’s probably passed out in his own puke by now. I normally wouldn’t care but I feel that since Eefa made it here, he should’ve at least tried.

Proteus raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking what I found out. I shake my head.

The same two doctors as before come out to speak to us after about twenty minutes of waiting. They’re much more serious. “She did suffer trauma to the head while in the Arena,” the man says.

“But you don’t think that’s what’s causing her issues,” Proteus says.

Anthea nods. Gone is the quivering woman in the hall, replaced with someone cold and angry. She’s going out of her way to not look at me. “The tasks we had her do when she first woke up didn’t indicate any neurological or physiological issues. We did scans, too, after her tantrum at the recap, and they didn’t show anything out of the ordinary.”

“Tantrum?” I repeat.

“Then what’s wrong?” Proteus asks over me.

“We believe it’s mental illness,” the male doctor says.

None of us know what that means. We don’t have mental illness in the districts, at least not the words to describe it, but the Capitol has words for everything. They have enough leisure time to think about things like that, to come up with ailments to explain their every mood.

Our faces must betray our inability to understand because they take a different route.

The female doctor is the one to speak. “We are going to have Annie Cresta declared mentally insane.”

“What?” I spit.

Proteus speaks over me again. “Isn’t that a bit premature? She hasn’t been out of the arena for long.”

“We believe a swift announcement is in her best interest at this time,” the male doctor says.

“Her closing interview with Caesar Flickerman has been canceled,” the female says, totally ignoring our reactions. She may have succumb to my charms and looks before, but now she seems immune. “President Snow will make the announcement during that time slot instead.”

I don’t know what to say.

“What would you like us to do in the meantime?” Proteus asks after a moment, voice totally neutral. The crease between his eyebrows is the only sign that he’s troubled by all of this. The only sign.

I could kill him.

“She’s currently under anesthesia, but I recommend you board the train back to your district soon,” the woman continues. “Before anyone gets wind of this.”

“Why?” Eefa asks, brows creased.

“What do you mean, Why?” I ask.

“Why are you declaring her insane? What exactly is wrong with her?”

“Why do you think?” I snap. The first thing I hear her say in a week and she asks something stupid like that?

“I’d like to hear the diagnosis,” Eefa says.

The woman doctor sighs and looks down at her clip board. She knows we won’t understand any of it. “She shows symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, attention def –”

Proteus holds up his hand. “That’s enough.” He has no idea what any of it means, either. “Eefa?” he asks, turning to her. She nods, satisfied with what she’s heard. Maybe she was making sure they covered their bases; we generally accept that mad people are mad, but you need real proof to declare a victor mentally insane before the whole country.

“There is one piece of permanent physical damage I ought to mention,” the female doctor says. “Due to the stab wound in her abdomen, she won’t be able to conceive or carry children. There’s too much tissue damage.” No one really cares about that right now. What we care about – what I care about – is getting Annie out of here without adding to the damage that’s already been done. “I thought one of you ought to tell her once you’re back in your district and she’s had a chance to calm down.”

“I think you should get ready to leave,” the male doctor says. “She’ll be up in –” he checks his wristwatch and bobbles his head as he does the math in his head “– ninety minutes, give or take.”

“Yes,” Mags says distractedly. “Yes, of course.” She blinks several times. “I’ll start preparing. And have Brae send for the train. Proteus, please get Annie’s stylist so we can get her ready to go.” The others go – Eefa practically sprints out – and I want to move, too, but my muscles won’t let me. Mags’s hand finds my shoulder. “She’s alive, Finnick. That’s what matters.”

I nod again because I can’t think of anything to say.

“Go. Clean up. Clear your head. I’ll be along in a few minutes. I just want to check in on her.”

When I get upstairs to our rooms, Greer rushes towards me and starts making a lot of gestures. I’m not sure what she’s asking until she runs her hand down her hair in a smooth, wavy motion. Like the way Annie’s hair falls.

“Annie?” I guess.

She nods.

I’m too tired to explain it all. “She’ll be all right.”

I start undressing before I make it all the way into my room, discarding my clothes as I go. Somes picks them up as he follows behind me.

I blast the water in the shower to its highest setting and make the temperature as cold as I can bear. I only take hot showers in the Capitol when I’ve just seen a patron. Different temperatures for different problems. It helps me compartmentalize. Keep my head straight.

I’m good at that. Compartmentalizing, keeping my mind focused on the task at hand. I always have been. A lot of victors simply can’t do that – it’s why they turn to drink or drugs. But I haven’t. And I won’t.

I don’t notice the slip of paper folded on my pillow until I start dressing. The paper is off-white and thick – the sort of expensive, heavy stuff they only use in the Capitol. I open it up, and the custom watermark at the top of the page informs me that this is from C.X.S.

President Snow has left me a handwritten note of congratulations.

The others have all gotten them, too.

Mags says he always does for the victors of the winning district. Etiquette, she says, is the most important thing to Coriolanus. Not for the first time, I wonder how well Mags knew him when they were young.

Broadsea whips a lighter out of his pocket and sets the note on fire before dropping it in an empty metal bin. He hasn’t even opened it. Eefa drops her own note into the bin; Mags gives Broadsea her letter to burn, too. I don’t know if she’s read it. Proteus tucks his away in his jacket pocket and tells me to do the same if I want to be smart. I don’t have a reason to save it; I’ve already memorized every word. But I decide to keep it anyway. In case I ever need a reminder.

Mr. Odair,

Congratulations on your very first victor. This is an exciting time for your fellow victors and all of District 4. It is an especially important time for you, as this is your first time mentoring a victor.

Of course he adds a little statement of regret at the end of my note containing a veiled threat:

I hope that you will not be bogged down by the weight of responsibility. It would be unfair for anyone to expect a young man such as you to take on the burden of Miss Cresta’s care.

It seems innocuous enough, but it’s another little reminder to stand back and just let things unfold. Men like Finnick Odair don’t get involved with that sort of thing, and girls like Annie Cresta never really go home.

My best regards to you and your new victor,

President Coriolanus X. Snow

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etfrin · 2 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter nineteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | implied murder, spit play (?¿), choking, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of Dr. Gaul, everyone is crazy here, implied stalking | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 they talk <33

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 remember to give me your feedback, reblog and comment your thoughts and my leg has cramps help-

Beta read by the lovely 💘 @nowitsmissing 🫶🏾

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Coriolanus felt his air being taken away from him. He puts his hand around the wrist of yours but doesn't attempt to push you away. He knew he easily could, however, he rather liked being under you. He parts his lips to take in much-needed air. But you had other plans in your mind.

You grin, a bit feral, much like him, Coryo noticed. And you leaned in to spit in his open mouth. He groaned, his eyes closing, his hips bucking up to look for friction. He was slapped again for his actions.

“Stop that,” you said, breathless, your eyes wide with anger or lust, he couldn't be sure.

He lets out a chuckle. Fuck, he missed you.

His insane dove.

You choke him harder, making him gasp. He doesn't stop you. Coriolanus could see the bruises formed around your neck. Snow had no right to stop you. He lets you be.

“You and Sejanus had no right to blow me off like that. I disobeyed orders by contacting you and you never thought of sending one letter! ONE! And then you have the nerve to react like this around me.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Remember the girl you had kissed, Coryo?” You whispered, leaning in. His lips were an inch away from yours to meet. “Haven't seen her around now, have you?” You smirked and he knew. He knows the look in your eyes, it was the same he had when he first had blood on his hands.

“You're mine, you have seemed to forget that after a few measly months. You're pathetic, Coryo.”

You crossed a line saying that. Coriolanus tightens the grip he had on your hand and forces it away from his strength. You cry out from the pain. It was going to bruise, just like your neck. It didn't matter to him.

“I am pathetic,” he mused, “I sent letter after letter. I tried getting over you and I failed miserably.”

“Well, you shouldn't have!” You angrily spit out, “Nobody can ever compare to me.”

Coriolanus pushed you away from his lap. He ignored his cock, straining against his pants as he rolled his eyes. “You're too much.”

“I am perfect.”

“Then you should have tried harder to contact me! Do you know how it was? Not seeing you, not hearing your voice, unable to touch your skin! I have missed you. I was dying without you! And what were you doing? Playing science with crazy Gaul.”

“Gaul is the reason you're here and not dead! You messed with her games and I told you there would be consequences!”

“I had no choice,” he yelled out.

“Why not!?”

“Because I love you. I love you and you're mine. I had to win if I wanted a life with you. A proper life worthy of our standings. There was never a choice. Not when it comes to you.”

You let out a wounded noise. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. You had him trapped. He liked the embrace. He hugs you back.

“You're everything,” he admits shamefully.

“You're not forgiven,” you sound like you're crying, he could feel his shirt getting wet. “She was punished for tasting your lips. You will be punished for allowing that.”

“I love you too, Coryo, but you need your lesson.”

Coriolanus nods. Even if he doesn't want to. He knew he didn't have a choice. He will take whatever you give him. Whether it be pain or love. “Okay, dove,” he whispered.

Then he remembered about the night of the gala. The anger you had shared with him, the truth you confined in. “Tell me what you meant by rigging the assignment of tributes,” he said.

You were caught off guard. “Uh.. uhm… I might have cut a deal with the Dean to give us the tributes from the same districts. He was supposed to give us tributes from a better district. Instead, he decided to fucks us over, and we did the same by bettering the games he hated.”

He takes in the explanation and realizes one thing.

“You knew.”

He adds, shocked, “You knew we were soulmates.”

You nod, “Yes. Ever since we were kids. You ran away from me the moment you saw the number on my wrist. The next day your wrist was burnt in an accident. I am many things, Coriolanus, but I am not stupid.”

Coriolanus feels guilt and embarrassment fester in his heart. He was ashamed of his past self. “I am sorry,” he mumbled, unable to meet your eyes.

“You're forgiven.” You smile, soft and gentle.

You tilt his head up and press a kiss to his lips.

“Tell me about district thirteen,” he said, wanting to know if the rumors were true. Especially since you had mentioned it before.

You freeze and Coriolanus catches the panic in your eyes for a split second before you relax. You didn't bother lying to him, knowing that he would catch you.

“I can't. Capitol orders. Dr. Gauls' order.”

Coriolanus clenched his jaw but nodded.

“Is that why you are here?” He asked.

“I am here because of you, that was a means to an end.”

You said it so sincerely that Coriolanus felt his cheeks burn and painted in crimson red. “I didn't get your letters,” he said in a lower voice. “I thought you abandoned me.”

“I have done many things to have you, Coriolanus Snow. Leaving you isn't in my cards.” You admitted shamelessly, not caring that he can see your obsession with him. He thrived in it so there wasn't any problem.

“I sent one every week despite Dr. Gaul forbidding it.”

“Dr. Gaul,” he thought out loud, “She stopped those letters from reaching me and vice versa.”

You frown, and he thinks you'll defend the scientist until you nod. “Makes sense, that bitch is controlling and paranoid. But there's nothing I wrote in the letters that would get us in trouble.”

You raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Coriolanus answers, “I didn't either.”

You get off his lap and stand up. You wince, raising your (his) t-shirt to check the wound he has given you. CS. There was a smile on your face as you ran your thumb around the letters. “You're insane,” you mutter affectionately.

Snow shrugs in response. He had no argument to refute your fact. “It looks great on you,” he said instead, a bit of pride creeping in his voice.

You laugh in response, “I know.”

You pick up the pocket knife, checking the blade out. You go to Coriolanus and press the blade to his jaw. You don't cut the skin. You smirk, heat in your eyes as you say, “My initials will look great on you too. But not today.”

He felt disappointed.

“When then?” Coriolanus asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“After your punishment is over,” you said, opening your suitcase to change into something that would hide the obvious bruises on your skin.

“I won't forgive you until I have you crying on your knees, Coriolanus,” you grin, “You have to realize that your actions have severe consequences.”

You walked out of the door, leaving him alone on the bed with a crazed mind and an overwhelmed body.

NEXT PART

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oracleofmadness · 4 years

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So I'm tired, it's almost 4 AM and I've been up reading this book and honestly I feel kinda crazy now. Okay, if you did not get the underlying message of The Hunger Games series then Collins is pretty much spelling it out here, "Do you understand what I am trying to say here????" Yes, I am pretty sure I've got a grasp on her point of view. I'm not trying to belittle it, I think this needs to be loud and clear, particularly at this time.

What really stood out to me about The Hunger Games was the violence, and the violence forced on children and young adults and the media's constant coverage and the public viewpoint. This book really delves into the issue of control, the control a government has over its people whether good citizens or perhaps rebels and the idea of what would happen without that strong handed control. This is one of the things blatantly spelled out. This was further demonstrated by what the main character, Coriolanus Snow, went through personally, leading to the ending that I expected but still found very unsettling.

Unsettling is really a good word for all of this, including this time period I'm living through, where I personally live, my personal government and how I feel like everything is so insane and... yeah. Unsettling is putting it mildly. Rereading The Hunger Games and following that with Suzanne Collins new book only makes me feel more secure in my own beliefs which I am not going to share. This highlights some factors that I believe are truly lurking behind the eyes of some people and behind some closed doors that kind of have become more open lately.

Honestly, I did not say any of the things I planned to say about this book... mainly, what the books storyline is about, a brief description, anything? Yeah, its 4 AM and I love sleeping so much, what happened? I dont like posting controversial things and I'm trying not to but did I mention its 4 AM? I'm going to probably make a cup of coffee and just stay up, my kitten thinks its morning now, so just HUSH! Leave me alone, be quiet.

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uzurimisery · 5 months

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chapter 1: the setting. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Watching TBOSAS rekindled my love of this series and Tom Blyth makes young Snow sexy.

wc: 4,422

waring: smut, misogyny, dubcon, toxic relationships, snow is insane, not beta read

AO3 version here | Series Master

“You’re to take Y/N to the gala and after that the two of you will begin a show of courting for the Capitol to watch.”

Coriolanus Snow found you to be a thorn in his side. An unknown variable. You were wellbred stock, perfect for carrying on a bloodline, but somehow you were as disgraced as those from the Districts. Even before the war had started and ended Coriolanus found you insufferable. Too aggressive, undisciplined, and unpredictable. He liked reading people, at this point he’d say he could read others better than they could read themselves. But you were a blank slate. Wellbred, well read, and well insufferable. The only reason he even pretended to care about you was who your mother was.

Dr. Volumnia Gaul was more of a creator than a mother. Mothers cared and nurtured their children with love and compassion, two emotions Gaul was incapable of. Funny considering she was once an obstetrician. It was there that she had been introduced to your father, another prominent Capitol resident, and had you. She liked you, surely, often willing to give you more grace than others for their mistakes, but love would be going too far. Perhaps her being your mother is why Coriolanus liked you even less, you had all of her traits he disliked the most.

The Snow family had always been led by men, a tradition passed down from father to son, an unbroken chain of masculine dominance. But the Gauls were different. They were led by women, strong, capable women who defied the traditional power dynamics. And you were no exception.

You were determined to prove yourself, to carve your own path, to become a leader just like your mother. You fought Coriolanus head-on, challenging his every suggestion, even when you knew your opposition was futile. You were a master of manipulation, using coercion, leadership, and cunning to bend others to your will. Even Coriolanus, the shrewd and calculating Snow, found himself falling prey to your machinations at times.

You had convinced two of the most desirable women in the Capitol, Persephone Price and Iphigenia Moss, that he was in love with them both. For a tense month and a half, they waged a bitter war for his affections, making his life a living hell right after he had returned from District 12. It was as if you simply enjoyed watching the chaos you created, relishing in the discomfort you inflicted upon him.

Coriolanus couldn't deny his grudging admiration for your skill. You were a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of ambition and cunning.You were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a challenge he couldn't quite overcome. And that unsettled him.

"Dr. Gaul," he began, his voice laced with scepticism, "I hardly think that I am the most suitable companion for your daughter, even if just for show.”

A sharp, echoing cackle escaped Volumnia's lips, sending a shiver down Coriolanus's spine.

"Oh, Coriolanus," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "my dear star pupil, you underestimate your own abilities. You are the very person I need to keep that girl in line. Plus she makes you look like a more viable successor."

His jaw tensed.

“I hardly think that if you couldn’t control her I could.”

“Control is a fickle thing Mr. Snow,” Volumnia did not even turn to face him as she stared down into a microscope. She turned a dial to clarify the view before then adding liquid, some sort of acid from the smell, and stirring the plate with a glass rod before continuing.

"Y/N is merely playing at having control. She is an actor, a performer, and you, my dear Coriolanus, will be her stage."

“And what is my role in this performance?”

"You will be the charming escort, the perfect foil to her rebellious spirit," she explained. "Your ability to manage her shows that the Gaul name carries on in your relationship with her, breeding the best gamemaker there could ever be."

His fingers itched to throw the beaker of acid onto Gaul. The very thought of touching you made his skin crawl. He could still feel the lingering sensation of your skin against his, a clammy, unnatural warmth that sent shivers down his spine from the last time the two of you had touched even briefly. Truly his interactions with you had been limited before the 10th games, you were two years his junior, it was only after he came back from 12 that he had even spoken to you. Now you worked side by side with each other on the games under your mother, and his every interaction with you made him violent.

The idea of having you draped over his arm all night filled him with a sense of nausea. He could almost picture you under him, your body contorting in agony as you choked by his doing. He envisioned himself standing over one of the ridiculous chaises in your family estate, your father's extravagant purchase. He would slowly tighten his grip around your throat, watching as your eyes bulged in terror and your face contorted in pain.

The thought of your hands desperately clawing at his arms, your tears streaming down your face, sent a strange jolt of excitement through him.

He pictured himself using one of the delicate scarves you always wore to strangle you, the soft fabric contrasting with the harshness of your screams. He would watch as your eyes rolled back in your head, your life fading away with a final, gasping breath.

Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word that adequately described his feelings for you. A venomous mixture of loathing, fascination, and a twisted desire that he couldn't quite explain. Lucy Gray he had wanted to control, but you wanted to break.

“As you wish Dr. Gaul.”

When your mother had told you that you were to be escorted by Coriolanus to the gala and then “pretend” to court him, you were pissed. You saw through his carefully constructed façade of charm and sophistication, recognizing him for the manipulative user he truly was. In his eyes, people were nothing more than expendable pawns, their lives mere tokens in his ruthless game.

While you couldn't deny that you shared a similar disregard for human life, having been raised in an environment where expendability was a given, there was a fundamental difference between your perspectives. You saw value in keeping people alive, recognizing their potential as tools in your own elaborate schemes. Death was not an option for you; it was a blunt instrument, a crude solution to a complex problem. People were willing to go to the extremes for their loved ones, and extremes meant profit.

There was no choice to be had in the matter of being his date, mother dearest had given you a look that said all. If you dared to defy her wishes, she would unleash a torrent of consequences, transforming your life into a living hell until she deemed your lesson learned. While you possessed a certain degree of freedom, there were lines even you dared not cross, and this was one of them.

But Coriolanus made you feel things that you thought you were incapable of, a deep burning rage that whispered at the end of it all one of you would be consumed. You could almost envision the moment when your fury would reach its crescendo, when your teeth would sink into his flesh, consuming him in the flames of your intensity.

As if life couldn't be any more cruel to you, Coriolanus had insisted that you were costumed by his cousin Tigris. Now Tigris was agreeable company, a beacon of kindness and warmth, possessed an innate ability to perceive the good in others. While you found her naivety and idealism somewhat exasperating, you couldn't deny her inherent goodness and her remarkable skill as a seamstress.

Yet, the thought of enduring the tedious process of changing into multiple outfits, each designed to enhance Tigris's artistic vision, threatened to push you to the brink of insanity, a state your mother had succumbed to years ago. The prospect of reliving her descent into madness sent a chill down your spine.

Tigris's fingers trailed along the soft fabric of the gown, carefully adjusting its folds to accentuate the curves of your body. "You know, you've got a really nice figure," she remarked, her voice laced with admiration.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Why thank you, Tigris. If you asked your cousin, he'd tell you I had a body made for the Districts."

Tigris's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"Oh, it's just one of his many ways of insulting me," you explained with a shrug. "He's surprisingly bad at it, considering how much he tries."

As Tigris continued her work, meticulously crafting the gown to perfection, you found yourself enjoying her company more than you had anticipated. Her easygoing nature and engaging conversation provided a welcome distraction from the simmering tension that always seemed to accompany Coriolanus's presence.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to partially let down the guard you had carefully constructed over the years. You savoured the simple pleasure of Tigris's companionship, cherishing the rare moments of genuine connection in a world that often felt cold and impersonal. Even if it was inside the Snow family penthouse.

The black velvet gown hugged your curves like a second skin. Tigris' skilled hands moved with practised ease, adjusting the intricate details of the dress, ensuring that it would perfectly complement your form.

"I think I'll add a corset effect to this," Tigris mused. "Corio has some cufflinks that were his father’s that would go well with that."

"I am but your humble dress-up doll," you teased, playing along with her lighthearted banter.

Tigris's smile widened, her laughter echoing through the opulent dressing room. "Well then, I'll have to show off my best work for such a famous doll," she declared, her voice filled with playful affection.

The light hearted mood continued for some time, eventually a servant came in to offer you tea. That ended up being your only respite as Tigris then wanted you to try on more gowns for different events. Apparently you had sparked something in her to create various things.

Perched atop a pedestal, clad only in your underwear and an arm across your bare chest, conversation flowed with Tigris, her nimble fingers expertly hemming the length of a shimmering silver gown. Your topics ranged from the latest academy and university gossip to Ma Plinth's overprotective tendencies towards Coriolanus, eventually settling on your father's renowned interior design skills. His contributions to the Capitol's architectural landscape were a source of pride for both of you.

You two had been so lost in conversation you hadn’t heard Coriolanus enter the apartment and calling out for Tigris until he was in the doorframe of the dressing parlour.

“Tigris I need you to fix this stitch on my blazer, it came undone while I was walking over here- oh.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Coriolanus's face, momentarily disrupting his composed demeanour. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight of you.

Tigris quickly rose, her hands reaching to cover your exposed form, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Corio!” she stammered, “If you can just leave it on the chair I’ll get to it shortly.”

Coriolanus regained his composure. "No need to rush, Tigris," he spoke smoothly, his voice devoid of any hint of the turmoil that he felt "I just need this done by Tuesday."

He turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I should hope that's not what you’re intending to wear to the gala, I think your mother would throw you in the arena herself.”

Without another word, he turned and exited the dressing room, leaving you and Tigris to exchange looks.

___

Coriolanus couldn't shake the image of your back from his mind. The smooth, flawless skin, untouched by blemish or imperfection, is a testament to the care your mother had taken in your upbringing and no doubt the many concoctions she made to keep you that way. The memory of your curves lingered in his thoughts.

He had always held the opinion that your body was more suited to the Districts, a form meant for bearing child after child to provide the Captiol with more luxury. But seeing you laid bare made him reconsider your appeal.

His usual taste in women ran towards the petite, almost painfully thin, figures that could afford to forgo nourishment for the sake of fashion. They were delicate creatures, easily controlled, incapable of challenging his authority. But there was something about you, something that stirred a different kind of desire within him.

Thoughts of you under him shifted, taking on a carnal nature. The dim light in the room seemed to flicker with the intensity of the images playing in Coriolanus's mind.

You under him, tears streaming down your face, but no longer was he choking you. You cried out in pleasure begging him to never stop. Your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, mouth open as you gasped. Neck covered in hit bite marks and hickies that trailed down your chest, heaving with exertion. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust again and again, your nails digging into his forearms drawing blood.

You cried so sweetly for him, came undone so well for him. That cunning mind of yours consumed by thoughts of him. He might never figure out how to predict your actions but he could figure out your needs, your desires, what makes you tick. Pull your tongue out between his fingers and spit in your mouth. To turn you on your front and hike your hips up against his own, hands pinned behind your back.

“Corio, what's wrong?”

Coriolanus's mind jolted back to the present, the vivid images from his fantasies dissolving like wisps of smoke. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room once more. Your gentle voice, using his nickname, had pierced through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back from the precipice of his desires.

"Nothing, I was considering something for the next games," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I do apologise, Mr. Creed. Innovation is something that weighs on me heavily.”

Mr. Creed chuckled, bassy and thumping. “ No worries my boy, your date was keeping me ample company.”

He watched as the older man's gaze lingered on your figure, a predatory glint in his eyes as it bore into your chest for a second too long.

Disgust churned within him, a visceral reaction to the blatant display of lechery. Mr. Creed's age only served to amplify the repulsiveness of his behaviour, a man old enough to be your father, yet still driven by the primal urges of a rutting animal.

Coriolanus saw through the façade of civility, the veneer of sophistication that Mr. Creed carefully maintained. Behind the polished exterior lurked a man incapable of masking his basest desires, his eyes a window into a mind consumed by lust.

He drew you in closer, feeling the heat of your skin spread against the material of his suit.

“And what company she is.” he placed a kiss on your temple with a chuckle all whistle maintaining eye contact with Mr. Creed. A man's warning not to vye for what was his. “I often say she should host the games instead of designing them.”

“Oh hush! You couldn’t possibly manage without me.”

“Well I’d have your mother.”

You giggled at that, showing that you had one too many fruity cocktails infused with a laughing agent earlier in the night, the light catching in your eyes. He could tell you were loose, more pliable then he had ever seen you. Part of him wondered if it was just all part of the act to you, playing as well behaved for him. The Capitol’s untouchable wild child made compliant in his arms.

Despite the lingering doubt, Coriolanus couldn't deny the allure of your presence. Your laughter, once a source of frustration, now held a captivating charm, and your relaxed attitude was a welcome change from your usual sharp wit and guarded demeanour.

“And with that Mr. Creed, I do think that Y/N and myself should go find Dr. Gaul.”

“Of course Mr. Snow, I look forward to your next presentation.’

Coriolanus pulled you away from the overly perfumed man and out of the garden where you had been. The president’s mansion always had half the party outside in the expansive greenery and the rest on the first floor of the building. He guided you out of the garden, the expansive greenery and lively chatter fading into a distant hum. He led you into a secluded sitting room, its dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the vibrant party outside.

Coriolanus was a man who prized possession, a collector of valuable objects and people alike. He had never been one to share, a feature made even worse after his time in District 12, and the sight of Mr. Creed eyeing his 'toy' had ignited a possessive fire within him.

You were his, he told himself, all the Capitol knew after the revelation of your made up love affair during the 15th games. But, you had made it abundantly clear that you were not his. The ownership did not extend into your life outside of performing in your role for the people of the Capitol and to appease your mother.

It was easy to keep the lines from being blurred normally but since that day in the dressing parlour something snapped within him.

Plopping down on the chaise you sighed heavily. “What crawled up your ass Corio?” To strung out every syllable of his nickname, teasing him.

A sharp exhale and her turned to face you. Watching you reapply your pristine red lipstick.

“Creed is nothing more than a pig, a bloated, self-serving creature who values nothing but his own wealth and power," he growled, his voice laced with venom.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Tell me something I don't know. One of their Avvoxes is like that because Festus saw his father with the girl, and his mother went bat shit.”

“How do you know this?”

You closed your compact with a snap and tucked it back into your clutch alongside your lipstick. "Festus told me," you confessed, a sly grin playing on your lips. "He squeals easily.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Tell me Snow, when did you start to care if some old pervert undressed me mentally.”

“Since your mother made the entire country think we’re in love.”

“But we aren't.”

“No we aren’t,” there was no love between you two “but that means you’re mine as far as he’s concerned. I don’t enjoy anyone coveting what's mine, even if this relationship is just for show.”

“Ah! Of course, there he is, the egotistical and controlling Coriolanus we all know. For a second I thought you might actually hold a shred of care for me.”

You leaned back in the chair, your dress slipping slightly down on your chest furthering the curve of your breast.

He had to admit to himself he was no more animal than Mr. Creed when the slightest slip made his thoughts race. His mind went back to his earlier thoughts now inspired by the room you were in. Bent over the chaise with your lipstick smeared, a litany of stains on his face and collar. He’d hike the skirt of your dress up and pull your top down, leaving your breasts free for him to grab at as he took you from behind, your underwear hanging off just an ankle. Festus or his father would walk in the scene and pale as Coriolanus displayed his ownership of you.

“Seriously Snow what’s wrong with you?” You’ve been distracted all night.” You shifted on the chair grabbing his arm and pulling him down to sit. “I won’t pretend to like you but you’re not yourself.”

His gaze flickered down to your chest before meeting your eyes.

Those eyes had always held the power to see through him, to strip away his carefully constructed exterior and expose the terrified child within, a child haunted by the horrors of the bombings. They roused something deep within him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. He was convinced it was hatred, an intense aversion to everything related to you. Yet, amidst the gaudy extravagance of this opulent sitting room, there was something more than hatred, a yearning, a need to possess you, not just in the pretence of a fabricated relationship, but for real.

“Nothing is wrong.”

"Bullshit," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've been distant with me ever since that day in Tigris' dressing parlour. You refused to even acknowledge me the last time I saw you, couldn't even bring yourself to look at me."

He couldn't deny your accusation, for it was true. He had been avoiding you, intentionally keeping his distance, unable to face the tempest of emotions that your presence evoked within him.

"Have you considered that I find you repulsive and even looking at you gives me mental anguish?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to deflect the attention away from his own turmoil.

"Okay, jackass," you sighed in exasperation. "I was actually trying to be nice to you here, even considering the possibility of being more amicable in the future, but clearly, that's an impossibility with you."

Standing up from your position, you straightened out your dress, your back turned to him. "I'm going to find my mother and then leave, and I don’t know how we will keep acting like we’re in love in public but we will." you declared, your voice seeming to echo in the room.

Before you could take a step away, Coriolanus' hand wrapped around your wrist. "You're hurting me," you exclaimed, struggling against his hold.

"What do you even want?" you demanded, spinning around to snatch his hand away, only to find yourself pulled down, landing directly into his lap.

You gasped in surprise, your body pressed against his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your senses. His eyes, those storm-filled pools, were inches from yours, their intensity almost hypnotic. There was something swirling in them that you had never seen him express before.

“God seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t know why my mother insists on it being you! You are the most insufferable man I have ever met. Constantly talking down to me and trying to make me feel lesser. You need to sort yourself out.”

Your voice raised, carrying into the hallway where he knew people were. He could hear their steps coming towards the door.

He watched you, his expression unreadable, his fingers still tracing patterns on your waist. It felt so breakable under his touch, like he could squeeze it ever so tightly and it would shatter. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, his image was that of strength and yet you were so fragile.

The reality was much harsher than that. He had never viewed you as a person before that day. You have been an obstacle or a pawn. Now he had to act as he loved you, craved you, desired you. Initially that was a hard ask, your very being was unpleasant to him, but since that day something had shifted in him. You were human now. And far too tempting.

The handle of the door began to turn. The narrative needed to be made, actions taken, you both were here for a purpose tonight.

His lips crashed into yours, more gnashing teeth than the delicate touch of a lover, a show of dominance and control. The frustration of this whole act and his loss of control bubbling to the surface and letting the anger out on you. You tried to pull away, speak to him maybe, but he pulled you back against him and with a hand on the side of your face pushed your jaw open letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. It was wet and messy. His tongue running against the back of your top teeth before dancing with your own. The desire to consume you coming out on top.

“Oh my!”

He pulled away with a bite at your lip, hard enough to leave the both of you tasting blood.

A collection of Coriolanus' classmates from the Academy and a few notable members of high society, including both Festus and his father, stood at the now open french doors taking in the scene before them.

Y/N Gaul draped across Coriolanus Snow’s lap engaged in a hot and steamy makeout session. You intricate updo half udon by his actions, both your breathing labour, red lipstick smudged around both your mouths. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You hadn’t heard anyone coming to the room too distracted by Coriolanus’ odd behaviour which was now explained.

Coriolanus instantly snapped into character a charming smile spread across his face as he steadied a hand on your hip.

“My apologies I wasn’t aware anyone would be using this parlour tonight.” He spoke with a lighthearted chuckle. “Miss Gaul was just simply breathtaking this evening.”

Your name brought you back into the moment, the velvet of his voice soothing your panic. You moved to adjust his shirt and blazer back into place, an intimate gesture painting the two of you having a deeper relationship than people initially thought.

“Corio,” you chided gently “I told you that we needed to be careful.”

“You're right my dear. I was overconfident, assuming we had a moment to ourselves. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He slipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning up your ruined lipstick. “Please give us just a minute and we will clear the room for you.”

He finished cleaning you up and then stood, taking your hand in his. Some more apologies were given to the crowd as the two of you absconded away like teenage lovers that had just been caught. A trail of hushed whispers and lingering glances followed you out. You couldn’t catch everything but you heard one thing very clearly.

“Well there goes the gossip that they hate each other.”

#uzuri writes #hunger games imagine #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the death of an actor #hunger games smut

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