#coriolanus snow oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marvelsswansong · 5 months

Text

show and tell

summary: a white rose at the train station. his hand in yours at the zoo. his mother's golden mirror. does he love you or is he simply trying to gain the public's favour and secure the Plith prize? you're unsure. and so is he, until he very much isn't.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, slow burn (ish), fluff, angst, technically a happy ending but quite dark, purely based off the movie but I take some creative detours, CW for violence, mentions of starvation, toxic/manipulative behaviors and a semi-dark!snow (please read at your own discretion, take care of yourself above all else :))

☆ word count: 5.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Coriolanus hates waiting.

The stillness, the eerie silence of an early morning at the Capitol train station. It eats away at his core.

His mouth tastes like copper, his throat's starting to itch from the dryness and there's a brief moment of fear as he ponders if he's making a huge mistake. A sharp whistle ringing through the station signals the train's arrival, and as his eyes adjust to the billowing grey smoke and a sea of white (the peace keepers), the flower in his left hand suddenly feels heavy. As if the weight of the situation is starting to bear on his shoulders.

He wasn't supposed to be here. If all had gone to plan, he would've already been the recipient of the Plinth Prize and taken the first car back home to buy his grandma'am some chocolates and Tigris a new dress. No more worrying. No more surviving on dwindled fortunes. No more pretending to fit in with high society.

Then, of course, the rules had to change. Viewership was down and it was of both Dean Highbottom's and Dr Gaul's opinion that what was missing was spectacle. Now, whoever the best mentor was in transforming their tribute into prime entertainment would win the prize.

"Your role is to turn these tributes into spectacles. Not survivors."

The silence that hung after this announcement in the Academy was heavy, but Coriolanus knew better than to show his true emotions on his face. After all, if there was one thing that he knew how to do as the star student of the Academy: it was to plan. And when he saw your... unruly introduction to the public, sneaking a snake down a woman's dress before cussing out the audience, it dawned on him that it would be a tall order to endear you to the public.

But not impossible.

The sounds of the tributes being roughly unloaded off the platform snaps him back into reality, his eyes easily landing on your figure as you jump off the train, your upper arms supported by the tribute (Jessup, Coriolanus recalls his name being) standing next to you. Pushing through the soldiers, the blonde nearly breaks into a small sprint to catch up to you as you turn your head upon hearing the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Welcome to the Capitol." the strange man in front of you says, before holding out a pristine white rose. It's a peculiar looking flower, you think, a kind of flower you've never seen before (at least, certainly not back in your home district). It looks almost artificial, you think, with how perfectly white and untouched its petals are.

The blonde assesses your cautious glance - the sunlight hitting the under color of your irises perfectly in a glistening twilight - and a fleeting thought passes by, that the tv camera didn't do your natural beauty justice. He has to suppress a smirk when you finally respond, narrowing your eyes at him with your arms crossing above your chest.

"You seem like you shouldn't be here."

He chuckles at that.

"I'm not supposed to be. And yet here I am." A pause. "But I'm your mentor. Coriolanus Snow."

That's a first, you think. Mentors for tributes.

"And what does my mentor do except bring me roses?" you question, flicking the buds with your fingers. Coriolanus just smiles.

"I do my best to take care of you."

Your supposed mentor says it so sincerely, you think, and he's obviously charming with his devilishly handsome looks and low whisper. But there's something that stops you from holding out your hand and taking the rose from his fingers. You suppose he isn't lying - after all, what would be the point of it - but there's something in his eyes that you can't quite explain.

Something that makes your stomach flutter in both excitement and dread.

"Move." the soldier behind you then barks, shoving you and Jessup forward. You decide to give your mentor one last grin and a quiet "see you later", thinking that's going to be the last you see of him for a while.

The last thing you expect is for him to jump into the back of the vehicle alongside the other tributes, drawing the eyre of a few who pin him against the moving vehicle and start taunting him with violence.

"You look rather out of place." the tall boy pinning Coriolanus drawls.

"I'm not, I can assure you. I'm here for (Y/n). I'm her mentor."

That puts the unwanted attention on you, as the other tributes begin to circle around you with sinister expressions twisting on their lips.

"Mentor, huh? How come little miss music gets one but not the rest of us?" a brunette girl drawls, eyeing you up and down.

The boy pinning Coriolanus down applies stronger pressure to his neck, and you rise in an attempt to intervene, but he meets your gaze discreetly and motions for you to remain seated.

"You all have a mentor, they're just... not here." he croaks.

"Right, and we're all supposed to believe you?" another girl, this one from district 4 you believe, taunts. "What's to say we shouldn't just kill you now?"

The blonde shoots you a nervous look and that's when you feel pity. Just like you, he's in a foreign environment and pretending to be brave. You suppose also that he's your only ticket out, your only chance of potential success at surviving in the games.

So you intervene.

"You could kill him. But then the moment this truck stops you'll all be gathered round and killed by the peace keepers. He's clearly Capitol. And if they're willing to hang District people simply for stealing, can't imagine what killing a member of the Capitol would mean for punishment."

That scares them off and Coriolanus sits down next to you, breathing heavily in an effort to catch his breath, before quietly thanking you.

"You really wanna thank me?" you quirk, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Start by thinking about how I can actually win."

The truck then suddenly comes to a halt, and the next thing you know the truck is being tipped over and the doors fly open. Coriolanus grasps your arm in lightning speed, pulling you close towards him so that he'd hit the harsh ground first, absorbing most of the impact.

When you shakily stand up on your feet, you realize you're enclosed in a large metal cage akin to that of an animal enclosure. There's even an over enthusiastic TV presenter in the background, who now seems to have noticed your mentor and begins to call out to him.

"Where are we?" you breathe out, already shivering from the autumn cold.

The blonde barely shifts, only dusting off his suit in a calm manner.

"(Y/n) (L/n) from District 12, welcome to the Capitol Zoo. Would you like to meet my neighbors?" he jokes, eyes slyly shifting to the right to refer to the small audience that has now gathered around the TV presenter.

You hesitate, but then he takes your right hand in his before leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"You want to win, right? Good. I'd like to win as well. And the first thing you'll need to do? Perform for the cameras." Coriolanus accentuates the end of his sentence by sliding the rose behind your ear, a gesture which draws an excited reaction from the crowd.

Is your mentor doing it for the cameras or for something else? You're unsure. But given your desperation to win, and the fact that he clearly knows more about the games than you do, you decide to play along.

Warm hands twisting in the cold, Coriolanus drags your enjoined hands towards the TV camera as he does what he does best. Lie, smile, and charm the audience. Even when the attention turns to you, as Lucky Flickerman (that's his name, you learn) directs questions towards you, the blonde never lets go of your hand in his.

Before he leaves, as news of his rule-breaking spreads amongst the members of the public, you grab him out of desperation one last time.

"Please get us some food, we've been starving since the Reaping."

The blonde nods, but you can't help but feel anxious: not knowing if his previous gestures of kindness were just for show.

-------------------------------

"Who's that for?"

Coriolanus had meant to sneak the sandwiches and cookies into his spare napkin discreetly, but of course Clemensia had to be two steps behind him, interrogating his every move.

"Just not very hungry, that's all." he nearly grits through his teeth, forcing a fake smile.

The dark haired girl chuckles at that, shaking her head sideways.

"You don't have to lie to me, Snow. Especially me."

"... It's for (Y/n)." he quietly admits. She hums at that, picking at her own food from across the table.

"That's awfully nice of you. What, already going soft for some girl you met yesterday?" she teases, and it immediately elicits an angry refusal out of him.

"It's not like that." Coriolanus snaps, his sudden harshness making his classmate flinch in surprise. "I just... can't have her dying before the games even begin because she's not as well fed as the others."

Clemensia scoffs, flicking the rest of her orange peel into the trash.

"Honestly, Snow, I don't know why you bother. She's clearly not going to survive. I mean, have you seen the tributes from districts 1 and 3?"

Ignoring her comments, he wordlessly slips away from the table and hails a ride down to the zoo. News of his intentions travels fast and whilst he doesn't mind Sejanus' company, it takes intense effort to force himself to look away from Arachne when she tags along and decides to taunt a caged tribute with a glass bottle.

"You came back." you mutter, staring at the neatly wrapped napkin in disbelief. Coriolanus dislikes how surprised you sound, then hates himself more for caring about what you think.

Why do you care what she thinks? he scolds himself. She's just a tribute you're mentoring.

"Of course I did. Can't have my tribute dying before the games even begin, now can I?" he teases, feigning nonchalant.

The presence of academy mentors seems to have attracted a crowd, with a few photographers even pointing their lenses towards you and Coriolanus as his hand slips through the metal gates to meet yours to hand off the food. When your fingers touch his, a part of you wonders if he would've ever came back if there was no PR involved.

Too grateful and too hungry to care, you just say thank you, before breaking off a piece for Jessup and offering half a sandwich to your mentor.

"Oh no, I'm not hungry." he says out of instinct, surprised by your offering. You raise your eyebrows in response, pursing your lips.

"You sure about that? Because I could hear your stomach growl from a mile away." you retort.

"Right. Uh, thank you."

Biting into the soft bread, you chew, savoring every bite. A silence settles between the two of you as you both eat, right before you ask him a quiet question.

"... Did you get into a lot of trouble for what you did for me yesterday?" your eyes shine with worry, you nervously looking up at him for an answer. He finds himself again surprised by how much you seem to care.

Yes, he wants to say. I nearly got myself disqualified as a mentor and it would've been the end of my family's future in the Capitol. But he swallows his thoughts down, alongside the dry taste of the tuna sandwich.

"Not much. Actually, I was able to convince the gamemaster, Dr Gaul, to implement a few changes to the games."

"Really, like what?"

"To let the public send you donations. That way, I could send you supplies you needed into the arena - food, water, medicine. It'd mean having to do the extra job of playing to the public and getting them to root for your survival, but with a voice like yours, the songbird of Panem -"

Your smile drops at that, your gaze turning stern at his suggestion.

"I only sing when I please for an audience I choose." your eyebrows furrow, your usually sweet expression melting into something more sour. It's oddly cute, he thinks.

"I know, but I'm really going to need you to try. It's for your own survival. Our survival." he emphasizes, staring right into your eyes. You can't suppress your sad smile at that, crumbling the empty napkin in your hands.

"Are you sure it's not just for your survival?"

Your question haunts Coriolanus that night, alongside the sounds of broken glass and pained gasps as Arachne lies bleeding on the ground, having been stabbed in the neck by one of the tributes. When he quickly runs to his classmate, he doesn't get to see your expression, as you're ripped away by Jessup pulling you into safety in an instant and peace keepers swarm the scene in an effort to remain calm.

When he's back home and the crimson blood coating his hands have dried from where he was holding his dying classmate's wounds, he wonders if there's any truth to your answer.

-------------------------------

Everything changes at the arena tour.

You've not had much sleep. You're confused, you're angry, but most of all you've been haunted by your conflicting feelings towards your mentor and the name he'd called you - songbird. A silly little songbird, you think spitefully.

To sing and charm the very same public who had doomed her to a violent game of death.

It was absurd, really, that he'd even ask that. It made your stomach churn and your head ache at the thought of cheapening your craft for something so juvenile.

And yet, when you spot the familiar red suit and white blonde hair in the mass of other mentors at the arena, you can't help but feel warmth in your chest and stomach. A part of you even feels lucky, given that the other mentors seem to waste their time insulting their tributes or being too afraid to talk to them. Whilst Coriolanus, on the other hand, seems to be full of ideas to ensure your survival.

"The game master liked my suggestions. So the donations system is going to be implemented, with a broadcast beforehand for the tributes to get a chance to endear themselves to the public for donations." He's speaking so fast that you almost think he enjoys explaining the games to you. "Now what this means is that assuming you get enough donations, when the bell goes off, you don't go for the weapons. You don't fight. You just run as fast as you can, hide and stay alive for as long as you can."

"How can you even be sure I'll get enough donations for you to be able to send supplies?" you mutter, looking around at the other tributes. "A lot of these folks are a lot taller and stronger than I am. They've got a much better chance at surviving than I do."

Coriolanus surprises you by taking both of your hands in his, squeezing your palms tight in his cold palms.

"I know, but we have something none of the others have."

You scrunch your face in confusion.

"What's that?"

"A story. A strong connection between you and me, a Capitol mentor and a District 12 tribute. Not to mention, your incredible singing and songwriting. Match that with my knack for public relations and we'll have enough donations to send you any supplies necessary for your victory in the games."

You realize then that Coriolanus is unlike anyone else you've ever met. So confident, so sure, so perceptive of other people and their secret desires and pitfalls. His unwavering commitment to his beliefs is admirable, if not almost foolish, but you keep that part to yourself.

"How're you so sure I'll even survive the first few minutes?" you push back, still unconvinced, though you don't pull away from his hold. "And, again, I don't just sing for anyone."

The blonde opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted when a sudden cascade of dust and fire crumbles down from the ceiling of the arena. The sound of a bomb exploding reverberates as you're both thrown off of your feet by the impact. Your head is still ringing from the chaos when Jessup pulls at your sleeves, commanding you to walk away from the wreckage.

Rising onto shaky legs, you even spot another tribute running from the guards towards a blown out hole on the side of the building. And when your eyes meet with Coriolanus' frantic ones, his lower half trapped underneath rubble, you both recognize that you now have an unbridled chance to escape -

But you don't.

To the blonde's complete shock, you instead shove your friend off, screaming as you lift the heavy cement column with all your strength in an effort to pry the debris off of his body. With the help of a few peace keepers, it works, but Coriolanus falls into unconsciousness quickly as he succumbs to the excruciating pain of crushed ribs and bruised limbs.

The last thing he sees before he fades into darkness is your teary eyes, a sight he so badly wants to fix by wiping away your tears with his fingers...

When he eventually wakes, it's in a dark hospital next to his grandma'am and sister. There's a roar on the television screen as you're brought onto the broadcast, shy smile and a glittering guitar in hand. It hits him that you're actually going to sing.

"I didn't have a chance to... uh... write a new song. But I'd like to dedicate this performance to someone very special who's recently been hurt." you say into the mike, your eyes clearly brimming with nerves and doubt.

As you sing, there's a tight sensation in Coriolanus' chest once the lyrics settle into his mind - a small voice whispers in his mind that it's jealousy, for you singing about a boy back in your home town who broke your heart - but it's overwhelmed by the feelings of gratitude and awe that you'd ended up doing what he asked you to do. All that, after selflessly saving his life.

"A...are you okay, Coryo?" is all Tigris asks, brushing his hair back and gently guiding him back down onto bed upon seeing his expression twist into one of discomfort.

"She could've run."

"What?"

"At the arena. The blast blew open a large opening on the side of the stadium. I saw one of the tributes actually make it out that way." he lets out a shaky breath, hating you for what you've done to him to make him feel this way. "Damn it, Tigris. She could've run. She could've-"

A single tear drops from his left eye and onto his injured palm, his weak voice giving away his true emotions.

"She could've saved herself from even having to participate in the games. But she stayed. She fucking stayed behind to lift the debris off of me."

"She saved your life." his sister finishes for him, the atmosphere turning somber as she wraps her arms around his shoulder. "I'm just so glad that you're both safe."

As you retreat from the screen, the donation numbers only piling up higher as Lucky Flickerman closes out the broadcast, a hot fire lights up in Coriolanus' stomach.

He has to save you.

No matter what it takes.

--------------------------------------

"You know he's just using you, right?"

After the broadcast, once it's revealed that you were given the largest amount of donations out of all the other tributes, Coral from District 4 corners you backstage.

"Pardon?" you fake ignorance, a small smile playing on your lips, which only seems to aggravate the girl further.

"Your pretty boy mentor. He's only been faking all sweet for you to get the public to send you donations. In fact, I bet he didn't even bother to try and pull himself out of the wreckage so that he could get more public sympathy.

You snap at that, all fake modesty melting away in an instant.

"You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, Coral. Coriolanus isn't like that." you spit, but all she does is look down at you with a nasty smirk on her lips.

"Oh really? And how would you know, little songbird? Think he'd care about someone from district 12? And why do you think he wants you to win so badly? Because he's a good person?" she mocks, her face now a mere inches away from yours. "No. I reckon it's more for the prize money."

You can't sleep that night at the zoo, tossing and turning in the dark. Your mind can't seem to rest, torn between the adrenaline and dread for the games tomorrow, alongside the constant worry over Coriolanus' wellbeing and doubts over his genuinity and trustworthiness.

Coral's just trying to get in my head. you repeat to yourself, over and over again. You're on the edge of sleep, exhausted and upset by your conflicting emotions, when you hear a familiar voice coming from the darkness.

It sounds like Coriolanus.

You sit up straight, and it's true: he's here, and he's whispering your name repeatedly, beckoning you towards the front of the cage and away from your sleeping competitors. Suddenly, the overwhelming exhaustion and fatigue disappears, and you find yourself gravitating towards the only person you've been thinking about for the past 24 hours.

"Coryo, you're... you're alright." you sigh out, almost overwhelmed with relief. You don't even realize you're crying until his hands reach up and brush away your tears, his warm hand a stark contrast to the freezing cold of the night.

"I am. All thanks to you, songbird." he breathes out, his fingers tracing the ripples of your cheeks. His head feels dizzy and his hands tremble as he searches his pockets for his mother's golden compact mirror.

"Don't call me that." you weakly laugh, as he does too. "What's this?" you ask, staring at the object he’s folded gently into your hands.

"It's for you to use in the arena. Now listen to what I say very carefully. Don't breathe this in, don't spill it on yourself, and only use it when you really need to." he slowly explains, as if he's terrified that you're going to harm yourself by merely carrying it in your pockets.

"Is... is this allowed? For you to sneak in and give me this?" you whisper, looking around your surroundings, but it's pitch black.

The blonde purses his lips, using every muscle in his body to keep his expression neutral.

No, it's certainly not allowed. I am risking my life, as well as my family's future, by doing this.

"That's not important. What is important is that the blast from the arena has created a hole leading out to a bunch of service tunnels. I tested it out myself, it leads towards the outside, far away from the peace keepers."

"Wait, I don't understa-"

Desperation grabs a hold of him, and it's a foreign feeling - the crushing despair of wanting to protect someone that he can't, the burning urge to want to put someone else ahead of him for once.

"What I need you to do tomorrow, (Y/n), is to run. The moment the alarm rings, don't even think of running towards the weapons or fighting the others. Don't even hide anymore. Just… just run towards the tunnels, by yourself, and get out."

"But what about Jessup-" you hiccup. Your head's spinning, confused and horrified by your mentor's change of plans and the prospect of leaving behind your friend to die in the arena.

"Forget about him." Coriolanus snaps. Suddenly, his eyes are cold and his voice is firm, commanding you as if you have no choice in the matter. "In there, he's as dangerous as the other tributes. You can't trust anyone, not even your supposed friends, okay? The games, they-" he chokes on his own words, and there's something again in Coriolanus' eyes that you can't quite decipher. "They bring out the worst in people. Promise me you'll run."

It makes your stomach twist in anxiety.

"I-"

"Please."

As he begs, his face crumbles, his voice so desperate and feeble that you can't find it in yourself to say no.

"I... I'll try." you relent, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your agreement.

"Good. Perfect." He takes your head in his hands and softly kisses your temple. "I won't let you die in there, okay? Just like you took care of me after the explosion. I'm going to take care of you."

"I'm your mentor. I do my best to take care of you."

Coriolanus' words from the train station echo in your head as you nod, pocketing the mirror deep inside your dress to hide it away from plain sight.

"Will I... will I be able to see you, after the games?"

You immediately feel stupid for even asking that. Everyone knows winning the games merely allows your return to your home district. And on all logical accounts, it wouldn't make any sense for the man to give up his life in the Capitol to follow you back to 12.

But he smiles at your innocent question, only nodding whilst squeezing your hands in the dark. To your feeble heart and mind, it feels like a genuine promise.

"Of course, my songbird. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." you whisper.

"I never do."

And for the first time, you think you actually believe him wholeheartedly.

----------------------------------

You can't believe it.

You've won.

You were so sure you were going to die once the snakes had been released, eyes closing shut once the venomous snakes began to crawl up your skin, but as you continued to sing... The reptiles simply slithered by your side, remaining docile and non-threatening. And based on the snakes' sudden change of behavior and Highbottom's scowl when he announced you as the victor of the 10th Hunger Games - "consider yourself lucky, little girl, as it seems your mentor was willing to break more than a few rules for you" - your stomach churns at the realization that Coriolanus kept his promise.

He did whatever it took to get you out.

Even cheating.

You've only heard whispers of the punishments for cheating at the Capitol. But based on the frequent hangings of rebels in your home district, you can't imagine that the punishment would be very kind.

Weeks have passed since your victory, since the last time you've even seen Coriolanus, but it does nothing to erase him from your mind. You still see his faint silhouette in the mornings, when your eyes have barely adjusted to the morning light and there's a pile of clothes sitting on the chair beside your bed. You think you hear his voice amongst the sea of strangers’ conversations, calling out for his 'songbird'. And you swear you see his face in every crowd at the bar.

Unbeknownst to you, Coriolanus is having the same struggles on the opposite end of the country. Luckily, bearing the last name Snow meant his punishment for cheating was to be lighter than the usual hanging: mandatory military service. District 8. But he's sure to bring his last few bills to bribe the immigration officer for a transfer to 12.

All to come find you.

He suffers through the first week of training - grueling hours, hanging ceremonies, endless ramblings from Sejanus about making a change for the better. He pretends not to notice Sejanus establishing connections within the rebel community, until he can’t ignore it anymore. After all, Coriolanus simply can't afford his friend’s idealism and recklessness to get him killed too, and potentially you, when you're thought to be linked to the movement by mere virtue of association.

Especially not you, Coriolanus thinks.

After the games, of having to watch you bleed, sob and fight for hours on end as he stood helplessly, only able to watch: even the passing thought of your death elicits a violent reaction in him. He'll do anything for you.

Even if that means turning in his only friend to prove his loyalty to the Capitol.

It's an unremarkable Wednesday night for you when you're singing a song at the bar, black guitar in hand and the smell of booze thick in the air, when your eyes come across a familiar face.

It takes you a few seconds, of course. You almost think it’s a hallucination, if it wasn’t for the sea of other soldiers surrounding him, validating his presence. His fluffy white locks are gone, replaced with a clean buzz cut. He's lost a bit of weight, his shoulders more broad and rough from military training, and the lack of expensive bright fabrics draped around his figure is jarring at first. But it suits him, you think.

The song can't finish any faster before you're slinging your guitar to the back and rushing up to Coriolanus, immediately throwing your arms around him. He stiffens in your embrace before relaxing, his arms finding your waist and squeezing you tightly. And you can't help but savor every essence of his being: he smells of sweat and coal (unlike his Capitol uniform which always smelled of florals and clean linen) and you can feel the cool metal of his dog tags press against your collarbone at this angle.

"You came back for me." you breathe out, still not believing that he's in front of you. Your ex mentor just smiles, tapping your cheeks with his hands.

"Said I'd never break a promise, now didn't I?"

As the next performer goes up on stage, recapturing the attention of the audience, you pull him away towards the back room, far away from the bustling crowds and twinkling lights.

"I've thought of you every day, my songbird." Coriolanus whispers against your skin once you two are away from the crowds, his head falling forwards into the nape of your neck.

Your cheeks warm at his comment, your fingers coming up to play with the dog tags around his neck, before a light chuckle escapes your lips.

"What's so funny? Did you not miss me?" the blonde teases, and you shake your head sideways in denial.

"Of course I missed you. I missed you more than you could imagine."

"Then what's the chuckle for?"

You let out a short sigh, not knowing if it’d be wise to bring it up. But all he does is encouraging you, looking deep into your eyes and nodding, urging you to say what’s on your mind. You relent, shoulders sagging.

"It's just... when I won the games, Highbottom congratulated me. But not for winning the games. But for surviving you." you awkwardly chuckle in hopes of diffusing the seriousness of your question. "Is it true, Coryo?"

"What are you getting at?" is his response, coy and low. You can't tell if he's amused, annoyed or disturbed.

Or all three at once.

"There's rumors, you know. I heard that you... you had to kill a tribute." you whisper, as if what you’re saying is the biggest secret in the world. "Is it true?"

Coriolanus pauses at that, the smirk on his face dropping for a fraction of a second before he's cupping your face and lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. His stare is so strong, so unwavering, almost to the point of unnerving you. But it's matched with such warmth and softness in his touch as he strokes your hair.

"You have to understand, darling… It was just like the snakes. If I hadn't rigged the game by getting the snakes used to your smell so they wouldn't attack you, you would've died. And if I hadn't killed the tribute charging at me when I had to sneak into the arena to rescue Sejanus-" he sighs, slow and long. He looks as if he’s thinking hard. "I had to, my songbird. I had to do it to protect you. To take care of you." he emphasizes.

You're not sure what kind of an answer you wanted, but you're unable to respond immediately, as it slowly dawns on you that this man both cheated and killed another person for you.

His response to your silence is a swift kiss, calloused hands dropping to your waist to pull you in close, the gesture desperate and messy. Breathing heavily when he parts from you, he kisses you once more, this time a short peck which is more rough and demanding.

"I would do anything for you, (Y/n) (L/n). Anything for you."

Coriolanus chooses to keep quiet about the fact that technically, he could've just injured the tribute charging towards him instead. Or that it felt freeing to have ended the tribute’s life. Or that just a few hours ago, he tipped off the Capitol about Sejanus' rebellion. All in an effort to secure your unbridled safety. So that he doesn’t ever have to let go of you again.

"Now, where are your manners, my songbird? Aren't you going to thank me?" he whispers against your lips, smoothing out your hair.

"T-thank you, Coryo." you manage to stutter.

He smiles at that, kissing the top of your head as he sways you from side to side.

"Of course, love. Don't worry. We’re going to be just fine. In fact, everything will be fine from now on."

As you peak out from under his embrace, you're not so sure if you can believe him anymore.

a/n: leave it to a new hunger games movie and Tom Blyth playing young!Snow to make me return from my 1.5 year long writing hiatus.

I'm quite nervous about this one as it's my first time writing for a semi-dark character and also because it's been so long since I posted my writing on here... But I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, like, reblog, etc if you liked it. If this one is received well I might go ahead and post the other Snow fics currently sitting in my drafts!!!

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #hunger games x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow oneshot #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #1k

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lqveharrington · 5 months

Text

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

prolouge (masterlist for series)

summary: You and Coriolanus Snow having been dating, but your father disapproves of it, leading to an Ultimatum. Will the deal be secured? Or will the 10th Annual Hunger Games ruin it all?

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: (proof read once !!) mentions of death, you and Coriolanus being oblivious, fluff, twinge of jealousy, angst, italics are flashbacks, (let me know if i missed any !!)

word count: 2k +

a/n: it’s been too long since i’ve written something. let’s hope this series does well :)

You and Coriolanus were given an ultimatum. Well, more like Coriolanus was given an ultimatum.

Ever since you were born, your father and mother wanted the best for you. Especially your father. Being born in a family belonging to the Capitol, you were already lucky, in a way. You were essentially being given everything on a silver platter. However, you were always in an optimistic mindset, even when the first Rebellion started. Your mother was the one keeping your family happy and looking on the bright side, but when she died during the Rebellion, your father completely shut the world out, including his own daughter. When the world returned to a sort of functionality, the first Hunger Games started up. As an eight-year-old with no mother, you relied on yourself and the help your father hired around the manor. Heading to school, you walked with your caretaker and occasionally the Snows joined you.

Your family used to be close with the Snow family. You remember them coming over for dinner parties and playing with their only son, Coriolanus Snow. It wasn’t until your father heard about what happened to them in the war he left them behind as the Capitol built up again. You, of course, always stood by the Snows. You visited them as much as possible growing up and when you reached Academy, you and Coriolanus became closer than ever.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” You ask, chin propped on his shoulder.

He smiled at you, “I’m trying to write my paper for English, but you are so distracting.”

You frown jokingly, “Sucks for you, I finished mine already.”

“Nice to know.” He murmured as he scribbled down a few more sentences.

You watched him for a bit before getting up, walking out of his room to find his cousin. You were always interested in her amazing skill for clothing, but another thing was on your mind at the moment.

“Tigris?” You call out, finding her sitting at the table at the front. She hummed in response, carefully hand sewing a beautiful dress. “I need advice.”

“About?”

“Well…” You take a seat across from her. “You’re a senior, right?”

“Mhm.” She pulled her dress up, looking a bit closer. You watch her focus shift from the dress to you after she placed her materials down. “What’s up?”

“You’ve like, you know… Dated someone… Right?”

“Where are we going with this conversation?” Tigris rested her head in her hands, watching your face redden. “Maybe I know where this is going. Do you like him?”

You flushed and looked down at the table. “Him who?”

“Don’t be scared, Y/N. What am I going to do? Tell my stubborn cousin? He won’t believe a word I say the second I mention your name.” Tigris spoke with an airy voice.

“Well—”

Coriolanus walked in, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I finished my paper, it didn’t take long.”

“Hey, Coryo.” Tigris smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Hi?”

“Did you know that your lovely little flower, here, likes—“

“Tigris!” You glare at the seventeen-year-old. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Oops.” She stood, wiping her dress from invisible dirt. “But, you know, out of curiosity… Coryo, do you like someone at school?”

Pink dusted his cheeks as he glanced down at you before looking at his cousin. “No.”

She squinted her eyes at him, “No?”

He shook his head, refusing to meet yours or Tigris’ eyes. She hummed and got close to both of you.

“My advice, ask them out before someone else does.”

As you both got older with the passing time, your crush on him intensified and vice versa. Tigris always asked if either one of you asked the other out, but you both always said no. On your sixteenth birthday, he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was during your third year in the Academy. Around that time, you became better acquainted with those in your class. Coryo would get jealous, but ever so subtly. Even if that meant leaving mid conversation with another one of your friends just to talk to you.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!” Sejanus nudged your shoulder, handing you a small present.

“Thank you, Sej.” You take the gift and lightly put it in your bag. “I’ll open it later, I have a—“

“Hey, beautiful. Can I steal you?” Coriolanus appeared by your left, nodding at Sejanus.

“Coryo, I was just talking too—“

“No no, go ahead. I just wanted to give you your present.” Sejanus smiled.

“If you say so. I’ll talk to you later!” You call out to him, letting Coryo link your hands together. “I was busy.” You gave a joking pout.

“Yeah, well, I needed your attention.” He pulled you away, near the few cherry trees remaining at the Capitol. His tone sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but you pushed the thought away as he sat you down on a concrete bench.

“Okay, what is it?” You cross your arms and legs, looking up at him. “I promised my father I’d come straight home today.”

Coriolanus dug through his bag before handing you a small, rectangular box. You carefully took it from his hands, pulling at the small bow. You gasped at the contents of the box, a silver necklace with a rose pendant hanging at its center.

“Coryo… It’s gorgeous.” You gently took the necklace out of its container, taking a closer look. “How did you…?”

“I may or may not have found some odd jobs around the poorer parts to get money for this.” He shrugged.

You clutch the necklace in your right hand and give him the brightest smile you could muster. “I love it. I really do… Help me put it on?”

He took the necklace from your hand and unclasped it, adjusting it to your liking.

“You didn’t need to get this for me, you know? I like our usual birthday hang outs.” You say, feeling the cold from his hands emit onto your neck.

“I wanted to.” He clasped the necklace back together, bringing his head near your own. “You deserve the world.”

You turn your head, face millimeters away from his own. Your eyes flicker down to his lips before back to his piercing blue eyes which had done the same. Coriolanus held your face with his left hand, rubbing your cheek.

“Can I?” He whispered to you, earning a nod.

He pulled you close to him, planting a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

Quickly running out of air, you parted from him, eyes fluttering open to see him. You looked at his lips and lightly laughed, rubbing your thumb on his bottom lip.

“Have I got something?” He asks, voice slightly breathy.

You hum, “Just a bit of my lipstick on your lips, nothing major.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into another kiss, this time, his free hand was on your waist. You made a sound of surprise before melting into the kiss as well, messing with the fabric in his suit.

“Be my girlfriend.” He says in between kisses as you ended up on his lap. “Please.”

“Of course.” You separated yourself from him, taking heavy breaths. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Then I’ll gladly be your boyfriend, Y/N Lovett.” He placed one last kiss on your lips. “Now, how much lipstick is on my face?”

“A lot.” You giggle, resting your forehead against his.

Over the next few months, you told Grandma’am and Tigris that you started dating. Both were happy, but Tigris especially. She would ask about your dates and occasionally made you dresses for them.

Yet, when your father found out about you dating Coriolanus, he simply disapproved. He hated the idea that you were dating someone from a family with no money, no more power to their name. Of course, no one else knew that except Dean Highbottom and your family.

Everyday was the same battle with your father. He always commented on your behavior after learning you were with the young Snow and refused to accept the fact that you two were dating without any benefits for his own family name.

Therefore, the ultimatum was created.

“You must tell Tigris to stop making me dresses.” You fiddle with the bow on the strap.

“Do you not like them?” He squeezes your hand, the warm breeze of the summer hitting the both of you.

You shake your head, “No! No, I love them. But I don’t think she should be spending all these resources on me. I offer to pay, but she won’t—“

“You don’t need to pay. You never do.” He stops your pace, looking into your eyes.

“Coryo…” You sigh, looking around you. Deeming it was safe, you continued. “You and I both know she shouldn’t be making these for me without pay. I should at least help pay for some of the—“

“Hey hey, look at me.” Coriolanus took your face with both of his hands. “You don’t have to pay for us at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—“

“Get your hands off my daughter, Snow.” Your father demanded as he came out of the manor, both you and Coryo jumping at the man’s voice.

‘Sorry.’ You mouthed to your boyfriend, forgetting you were walking back to your home.

Your father clicked his tongue, “Come inside, we haven’t got all day.”

You hurry your steps to the porch of the manor, your father waiting for who knows what.

“You too, Mr Snow.” He beckoned the platinum blond over. “I doubt you don’t want to hear this conversation involving my daughter and your… Relationship.”

Your steps faltered at his words but you followed the butler into the living area, supposedly where your father wanted to discuss something. You sat on the lovers sofa as Coriolanus walked in with your father second. You gave a subtle gesture for him to sit next to you. Coryo took long strides to sit by you, still leaving a good amount of room because of your father.

“Tea?” He asked the both of you as the help walked in with a tray.

“Thank you, Em.” You take a cup of tea from her, setting it to the side.

“No, thank you.” Coriolanus waved her off a bit, hands kept to himself.

“Right.” Your father sat up straight on the couch opposite of you both. “About your relationship.”

A few beats pass.

“You both are comfortable with one another and that’s fine. But, Mr. Snow, you really aren't of any value to us at the moment.”

Your hand flexes at your side, suddenly angered by your father’s poor choice of words.

“Maybe, before the Rebellion, yes. But now, the Snows are nothing but rags disguised as designer material.”

“Is there a point to this, father?” Your eyes bore into his.

“Ah, yes. You see, I wouldn’t mind your relationship with my daughter at all if you were to somehow make your way back up. Let’s say, winning the Plinth prize. You win, I allow you to date my daughter. You lose, well, she’ll be arranged to marry another who will benefit the Lovett name.” Your father spoke with such a demeaning manner.

“Father, that’s not—“

“I’ll do it.” Coryo cuts you off, earning a wide eyed look from you. “I agree to those terms, sir.”

“Very well. May the odds be in your favor, Mr. Snow.” He got up, taking his leave. “Oh, and Y/N?”

You look at your father, a permanent scowl on your face.

“I advise you to look for other suitors before I pick for you.”

Your father finally left the two of you, your eyes snapping to the blond next to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Are you out of your mind? Where has your brain gone?” You smack his chest in between every word before getting stopped by the male. “Let go of me!”

“You know I only agreed to it because I can do it. You know that.” He loosens his grip on your wrists. “I have healthy grades, I never miss a class.”

Your eyes gloss over, “You better win that Plinth Prize, Coryo.”

Coryo cradles your head with his hands, kissing the top of your head. “I’m not losing you. I never will.”

From that day onwards, it was a constant battle for him to be the best out of the best at Academy.

After all, Snow always lands on top.

(ask for taglist in comments or dm !!)

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ilguna · 5 months

Note

hii could you please write a young coriolanus x reader arranged marriage trope thank you

☼ plinth legacy (Coriolanus Snow) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, blood mention, some grief.

wc; 7.7k

notes; made the reader sejanus's sister for angst reasons :)

Coriolanus Snow.

A name, much less a person, you had never thought would constantly be on your mind. He wasn’t before. In fact, most days you wouldn’t glance his way twice, unless you had to. He was just another face at the Academy, a friend of your brother, Sejanus. Which, by association, made him a friend of yours. Or, at the very least, acquaintances.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, or that he was unbearable to have a conversation with. Actually, his presence was nice, on the occasions that you were around him for longer than a few minutes at a time. He was polite, and always seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, even if he’d heard it all before from Sejanus.

You started to see more of Coriolanus when they became mentors for the tributes in the districts. You weren’t eligible to participate, and it wasn’t due to grades, but because you’re a year younger than your brother. This didn’t stop him from pulling you to see the tributes in the zoo when the opportunity first struck.

Ma had warned you two to be careful, after what she had seen happen with Coriolanus getting stuck inside. Still, she happily made the sandwiches when Sejanus requested it, and even made extra after he told her what his plan was. He wanted to give them to the tributes inside of the cage, he had a feeling they were hungry, and he was right.

Sejanus couldn’t get them to approach the bars, no matter what he said, or how hard he tried. A few times, you’d tried yourself, attention focused on one person in particular, who was on the far side of the cage, refusing to look your guys’ way.

Your fingers curled around the cold steel, leaning into it. “Marcus.” You breathed, a smile on your face. “Please, we want to help.” His eyes found you, standing above where Sejanus was crouched. “It’s just a sandwich.”

He didn’t budge, of course. Sejanus took a glance behind the two of you, getting to his feet. The sandwich lowering in one hand, as he waved someone over with the other. When you looked, you found Coriolanus coming through the crowd, blonde curls bouncing with each step.

When he caught your eye, he gave you a smile. “Trouble?”

“None of them trust us. And why should they?” Sejanus asked.

“Us?” Coriolanus echoed.

“I’ve been trying, too. But not as broadly.” You shook your head.

A girl had marched up next to the three of you to point to a sign on a pillar next to the enclosure. “It says, ‘Please don’t feed the animals.’”

“They’re not animals, though,” Sejanus told her. “They’re kids, like you and me.”

“They’re not like me! They’re district. That’s why they belong in a cage!” She shouted.

Sejanus sighed. “Once again, like me.” He then looked at Coriolanus. “Coriolanus, do you think you could get your tribute to come over? If she does, the others might. They have to be starving.”

He hesitated, looking through the bars to find his tribute. He took a moment to think, debate whether or not he should. All he needed was a little push to convince him, so you leaned forward, over Sejanus, to place a hand on his arm.

“Please?” The word was sweet, more than you had intended it to be. His eyes moved to you, instead. “Do you have any ideas?”

He took in a breath, “I can’t just treat her like it’s feeding time at the zoo,” He was shaking his head. “Not mine. But I could offer her dinner. Maybe they’ll join after that.”

Sejanus nodded, you removed your hand, giving him a smile. Your brother opened up the backpack for Coriolanus to see the amount of sandwiches and fresh plums that were inside, waiting. “Take whatever. Ma made extra. Please.”

Coriolanus took two sandwiches and two plums, and then moved away to a more private spot, where he sat down on a flat rock. His tribute went up to him to join, and they spoke briefly. She took a bite out of one of the sandwiches, a smile appearing on her face.

The other tributes had moved forward, seemingly gauging her reaction to make sure that it was good. When she swallowed her bite, she turned her head to them. “You all should get one. They’re real good!” She waved her district friend forward. “Go on, Jessup!”

Jessup took his time approaching the fence, black hair sticking to his forehead from the heat. Sejanus wordlessly handed him a sandwich, and a healthy plum. As soon as Jessup had returned to where he’d been before, the other tributes rushed forward.

You stole a sandwich and a plum, holding them to your chest, eyes on Marcus, as he refused to come forward. A dozen hands stuck themselves through the bars, and your brother struggled to fill them quickly. Within the minute, the food was gone, everyone had gotten one.

Except for Marcus.

He had his arms crossed over his chest, face hard. Sejanus pulled a sandwich out of the very bottom of the bag, unaware that the food you were holding was for Marcus, and not for yourself.

“Marcus, this is for you. Take it. Please.” Sejanus said, leaning out as far as he could. “Please, Marcus.” He pleaded. “You must be starving.”

You watched with a sinking heart as Marcus looked Sejanus up and down, and then turned his back to the both of you. One of the other, smaller, boy tributes took the opportunity and ran forward to claim the sandwich, snatching it from Sejanus’s hand.

The news crew showed up after that, pushing a camera into his face. Your brother wasn’t having it, slinging the empty backpack over his shoulder. He held his elbow out for you, so he could escort you through the crowd better.

“I’m going to talk to Marcus.” You told him. “I don’t want him to go hungry.”

“Ma will be upset that I left you here.” Sejanus said, “She told me to watch you.”

“You wouldn’t be leaving me. I have Coryo.” You motioned to Coriolanus, who was in his own world with his tribute. You cleared your throat, getting his attention. “Sejanus is going to leave, you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on me, would you?”

Coriolanus nodded, smiling, “Of course not, why’d you even ask?”

Sejanus was satisfied, lowering his elbow. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Tell Ma I won’t be too late.” You said, watching him weave through the crowd to leave.

And then you turned back to the cage, eyes on Marcus in the corner. He was stiff, unmoving in the corner for another few long minutes. Which was probably done to ensure that you two had left.

When he decided that enough time had passed, he took his time turning around. The first place he looked was in your direction to confirm the coast was clear.

You were certain he was going to shut you out at the sight of you, but he didn’t. He stayed where he was, and so did you. You waited for him to relax, even if it was a little bit, before you bothered to hold up the sandwich and the plum you’d been holding to your chest. The food that you’d been protecting for him.

His face twisted, you stared, drawing in a breath. “Ma made it. I don’t want you to go hungry, Marcus.”

Marcus deliberated, eyes wandering from yours, and then he’d pushed himself off of the wall. You crouched, so that he wouldn’t have to come up the dry moat if he didn’t want to. He took his time, drawing attention to himself.

If he had any respect from the other tributes for abstaining, it had crumbled like his resolve.

Marcus stopped at the bottom of the moat, you held out the sandwich and the plum for him. “We’re so sorry you’re here, Marcus. We never could’ve imagined it’d come to this.” He didn’t move, watching you.

And then all of a sudden he did.

His hands closed around your wrists, yanking you forward. You barely turned your head in time to keep your nose from slamming into the bars, eyes wide, trying to pull back. He had a tight grip on you, squeezing hard enough for you to feel the blood beginning to build in your fingers.

“You aren’t.” He said, voice hard.

“Marcus…” You wiggled, “Marcus, you’re hurting me.”

He tried to pull you in closer, forcing you to press into the bars of the enclosure. “This is what you get, (Y/n). This is what happens when you treat people like animals.”

“But this isn’t my fault!” You shouted, panic settling in. “Let go of me!”

“You’re the one that moved to the Capitol. You didn’t stay in District Two. You’re just as bad as they are.”

“Let go!” You cried, tears in your eyes.

“Get off of her.” A hard voice demanded, a hand shot in front of you to make a grab at Marcus.

Coriolanus was angry, an emotion that you hadn’t seen him wear before. He was always so cool and collected, there wasn’t a lot that could get him riled up. If it did, he would excuse himself, to keep from tarnishing his perfect reputation.

A stern crease was between his eyebrows as he got his hand around one of Marcus’s forearms, bringing him forward with one solid pull.

“I said, get off of her.” His voice was low.

“Or what?” Marcus asked.

“Or I’ll make you wish you never met her.”

Marcus listened, never taking his eyes off of Coriolanus, as if he could jump through the narrow bars to strangle him. His hands released, and you let go of the sandwich and the plum in the process. You caught yourself on the bars before you could fall completely, standing up swiftly, brushing dust off your skirt.

Coriolanus reached for you, and you held onto the red sleeve of his Academy uniform, breathing heavily. You shook your head at Marcus, heart beating in your chest. “Just because we’re here now, doesn’t mean we’ve changed, unlike you.”

The evening was ruined, but the zoo was closing anyway. Coriolanus let you hang onto his elbow, as he began to lead you out while blocking the cameras from bombarding you. You didn’t make it very far before you saw Sejanus, sitting behind a boulder. And even though you could’ve let go of Coriolanus, you didn’t.

You were upset, for multiple reasons. Your intentions were completely different from what Marcus assumed. You weren’t there to save face with District Two, you were there to help him. And even worse, you were mad at Sejanus for dragging you along in the first place.

It was the last time you went to see Marcus with Sejanus, but it was the first time Coriolanus kept you up at night. It was the way he had stepped in, how he reached for you first, instead of waiting to see if you wanted his comfort. It stuck out in your mind, and then it didn’t.

When your mom saw the bruises on your wrists the following day, she told you that you were done. Sejanus would have to do the mentoring on his own. This doesn’t mean that you heard about it any less. You probably heard about it more, getting every detail without ever having to ask, because Sejanus offered it up.

You didn’t see Coriolanus for a few days after that, despite the fact that you wanted to thank him. You were too invested in schoolwork, while also trying to come up with ideas for Sejanus to use with Marcus, because he wanted to make things right between them.

When you did see him next, it was the day of Arachne Crane’s funeral. The whole school had gathered on the front steps of the Academy. The groups were divided neatly and alphabetically by class, but Coriolanus wasn’t. He was in the front row, sitting alongside important individuals, namely President Ravenstill.

You had no idea why, until the Academy clock struck nine, and the entire crowd fell silent. That’s when he rose from his seat and walked to the podium, where he sang the anthem. The president then gave a speech about Arachne, how her life didn’t deserve to be taken when all the Capitol is doing is striving for peace.

You bit your tongue, hard. If they wanted peace, they should treat those in the districts together. You’d heard about what happened to Arachne, what she did to her tribute. She was teasing a starving girl, and while you don’t agree that taking a life is the right form of payback, you can’t blame the tribute.

The funeral procession came around the corner, following the drumming. At first, it was all peacekeepers from the honor guard. The crane was next, attached to a flatbed. And dangling from the hook, with bullets in her dead body, was the district girl. Below, shackled to the truck bed, were the twenty-three other tributes, filthy with their heads down.

You were sick, struggling to breathe, as you imagined the amount of pain they had to be in. As you pictured yourself hanging from that hook, or chained to a truck that you couldn’t even stand on. The rest of the funeral was a blur, as the truck disappeared.

Still, you went to find Coriolanus, ignoring your own brother to do so. He was standing near the podium, talking to Dean Highbottom, but as soon as he left, you slid in.

“You sounded amazing.” You said, Coriolanus turned to you with raised eyebrows. When he saw your face, he gave you a smile. “I wish I sounded half as good.”

“I’m sure you do.” He said, hand on your shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, is everything okay?”

“Ma told me I’m not allowed to help anymore, she saw the bruises.” You said, “I’m fine, though.”

“He left bruises?” That crease between his eyebrows returned.

“He was mad. I would be too.” You muttered. “They got dumped into a zoo, literally. You were there. How did it feel?”

His face contorted, “Wrong, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.”

“You’re right.” You sighed. “I never got to properly thank you for stepping in. I think he would’ve let go eventually, but—”

“You don’t need to thank me, (Y/n).” He interrupted, watching as you reached into your backpack.

“I do, actually.” You pulled out a neat plate of bread pudding that had been sitting flat on the bottom of your bag. When you looked up, you saw his parted lips. “You can’t ask how I know, but I heard that you really like bread pudding. I made enough for you and Tigris, or even if you wanted to share it with Lucy Gray.”

“You bake.” He said.

“On occasion. If you have any requests, I’ll be more than happy to make it for you.” You nodded.

He gave you a smile. “Thank you, (Y/n), but I don’t think I could ever ask that of you.”

“Please, don’t hesitate.” You told him. “I’ll see you around.”

You’d expected to see Coriolanus in the hallways next in passing, not the hospital later that evening. The mentors had gone to the arena with the tributes to do televised interviews, when rebels set off several bombs, killing multiple people. Both of the tributes from Six were killed, as well as the Ring twins—Diana and Apollo. While three mentors had been injured, that being Coriolanus, Androcles Anderson and Gauis Breen. The latter one lost both of his legs.

And of course, with the exit being wide open, four tributes went running for it. The tributes from One were dead before they stepped foot out the door, while the girl from Two had made it to the river. She made it over the wall, but died in the fall. While Marcus… he disappeared completely.

Sejanus was, thankfully, uninjured. The Academy canceled classes, so he came straight home. He didn’t really speak until the following day, when he suggested for the two of you to visit Coryo in the hospital. You’d agreed, because leaving your brother alone while he was that upset didn’t seem right.

Ma made more meat loaf sandwiches, because Coriolanus seemed to like them so much. When you visited him, he sat up in the hospital bed. Sejanus set Coryo’s book bag down on a table, while you took a seat. Together, the three of you enjoyed the sandwiches, while talking about anything but Marcus.

When you were done, you wished for him to get well soon. It would be the second time that he’d stay on your mind, this time lasting longer. You didn’t like that he was hurt, especially when he didn’t deserve to be. The war was between the districts and the government, not the people in-between that were being forced to help.

It didn’t seem to bother Coriolanus, though. He kept fighting for his tribute, and you tried to pry him from your mind. It was easier to do when the Games did finally come around, especially that first day. When the cameras started with a wide shot of the arena as a whole, and the fourteen tributes that stood in a circle around the center.

Then the camera changed, as it slowly zoomed in on twin steel poles, twenty feet high with a crossbeam. And at the center, Marcus hung from shackles at his wrists, beaten bloody, face swollen. When he moved his lips, it showed his broken teeth.

You raised to your feet the same time that Sejanus had. He was standing a few feet in front of you, next to Coriolanus, who was watching him carefully. The only reason why you were allowed to be in the hall was because you were there to support your brother, and you quickly understood why.

Sejanus rushed forward, grabbed an empty chair, and hurled it at the screen, where Marcus’s mangled face was. “Monsters!” He screamed. “You’re all monsters here!”

You watched in silence as he left the hall, leaving you there. No one had moved after him, and you were too stunned for a minute to chase after him. Coriolanus turned in his chair, where he saw you grabbing at your wrists, where the bruises were just healing.

“(Y/n)--” He was worried, shaking his head.

“He’s right.” You breathed, backing up toward the door. “What have we done?”

“Miss Plinth,” A hand had grabbed you.

You jerked away, eyes wild, lips parted. It was Dean Highbottom, and there was a warning on his face, telling you not to cause a scene. You didn’t want to be like your brother. Except, it was too late for him to step in, because the two of you were already too similar. Born from the same tree branch that split into two.

“Get away from me.” The words were harsh, “Don’t touch me.”

He let you go, as you followed after Sejanus. He wasn’t too far, just down the hall, where he was heaving heavy breaths, hands in fists at his sides. The look he gave you could’ve killed anyone, but his expression softened when he realized it was you.

You hugged him, standing there for what felt like forever. Marcus ended up dying later that afternoon by another tribute, presumably a mercy killing. Sejanus encouraged you to go home, telling you that he’d be right behind you in a few hours. You listened, told Ma that Sejanus was upset and that was it.

Well, that’s what you thought, at least. He didn’t come home that night, and as it got later, Ma was getting more worried. She asked you if you had any ideas where he could’ve gone, and you told her no. All you could do was suggest Coriolanus, because they were close, and Coryo seemed to care.

Ma took you to the Snow penthouse, where Tigris opened the door, dressed in a nice lavender dress. With Ma in hysterics, you explained the situation, and she invited you inside to sit in the living room. Tigris made tea, while her grandmother took a seat in a chair nearby. On the television was the arena, but it was too dark to see anything, even with the moonlight.

Tigris poured jasmine tea into cups on the table, while your mom tried to clean herself up with the handkerchief. “You’re such nice people. I’m so sorry to have dropped in on you like this.”

“Any friend of Coriolanus is a friend of us all.” His grandmother said. “Plinch, did you say?”

Your eyebrows twitched, Ma didn’t skip a beat. “Plinth. It’s Plinth.”

“You know, Grandm’am, she sent the lovely casserole when Coriolanus was injured.” Tigris said to remind her.

“I’m sorry. It’s too late.” Ma sniffed.

“Please don’t apologize. You did exactly the right thing.” Tigris patted her shoulder, looking up. Her eyebrows raised suddenly. “Oh, here’s my cousin now! Perhaps he knows something.”

You turned, finding Coriolanus gently shutting the door behind him. He gave you a gentle smile, but when you didn’t reciprocate, it dropped slightly. “Mrs. Plinth, (Y/n), what an unexpected pleasure. Is everything all right?” He asked, coming closer.

“Oh, Coriolanus. It isn’t. Not at all. Sejanus hasn’t come home. (Y/n) said he left the Academy this morning, and I haven’t seen him since. I’m so worried." She said. “Where can he be? I know Marcus being like that hit him—” She placed a hand on your knee, hand squeezing. “Them hard. Do you know? Do you know where he could be?”

“He was upset, ma’am. BUt I don’t know that it’s any cause for worry. He probably just needed to blow off some steam. Took a long walk or something. I’d do the same thing myself.” He tried to ease her.

“But it’s so late. It isn’t like him to up and disappear, not without letting his ma know.”

“Is there anywhere you can think of he might go? Or somebody he might visit?” Tigris asked.

Ma shook her head. “No. No. Your cousin’s his only friend.”

Coriolanus looked at you, where you hand your palms on your lap. “You know, if he’d wanted company, I think he’d have come to me first. You can see how he might have needed some time alone to… to make sense of all this. I’m sure he’s all right. Otherwise you’d have heard of it.”

“Did you check with the Peacekeepers?” Tigris asked.

Ma nodded. “No sign of him.”

“You see?” Coriolanus asked. “There’s been no trouble. Maybe he’s even home by now.”

“Perhaps you should go and check.” Their grandmother suggested.

Tigris gave her a look. “Or you could just call.”

Ma shook her head. “No. Your grandma’s right. Home is the place we should be. And I should let you all get to bed.”

“Coriolanus will walk you.” Tigris said.

“Of course.” Coriolanus nodded, you got to your feet.

“My car’s waiting down the block.” Ma told them, getting up as well. She smoothed down her hair. “Thank you. You’ve all been so kind. Thank you.” She reached back to grab her handbag, you looked away from Coriolanus to the television, where you stopped.

There, on the screen, a shadowy figure came out the barricade. The moonlight catering the side of his face, the features eerily familiar. He was carrying something in his hands, as he crossed the arena to Marcus’s corpse, where he stopped. Above laid a sleeping girl, the tribute that had killed your friend to keep him from suffering.

“Shall I walk you to your car?” Coriolanus asked, Ma had begun toward him. “I bet you’ll find Sejanus in bed.”

“No.” The word was a whisper out of your mouth. “No, Coryo.” He’d turned his attention to you, mouth opening to speak, when you did it first. “Sejanus is in there.”

Coriolanus came closer, passing Ma. You reached out to grab him, hand on his shoulder. Sejanus knelt down, and tried his best to arrange Marcus in an appropriate manner. He rolled Marcus on his back, straightened his legs and tried to fold his arms over his chest. And then he stood up and held his hand out over Marcus’s body.

You couldn’t help the tears that sprung into your eyes.

“That’s your son in there? What’s he doing?” Asked their grandmother.

“He’s putting bread crumbs on the body.” You murmured, lips trembling. “So Marcus has food on his journey.”

“His journey where? He’s dead!”

“Back to wherever he came from.” Ma told them. “It’s what we do, back home. When someone dies.”

You swallowed thickly, a tear running down your face. A handkerchief materialized out of Coriolanus’s pocket, he passed it to you. “Thank you, Coryo.”

The phone rang a moment later. “Is the whole city up?” Their grandmother sighed.

“Excuse me.” Coriolanus said, holding your gaze for a moment, as he walked away. He turned his body away to speak.

You wiped your eyes with the handkerchief, and then folded it neatly to place back on the coffee table. You needed to leave, to go to Sejanus. Why hadn’t he mentioned this to you? Was it because he knew it was a stupid idea?

When Coriolanus came away from the phone, he sighed. “That was the Head Gamemaker. She’d like you to meet her at the arena to collect Sejanus, and I’m to accompany the both of you.”

“Is he in trouble?” Ma asked, eyes wide. “With the Capitol?”

“Oh, no. They’re just concerned with his well-being. Shouldn’t be long, but don’t wait up.” He told his family.

The three of you shuffled out of the apartment after that, going down the elevator and through the lobby. Your parents’ car rolled up silently, and the three of you got inside, with Coriolanus requesting the arena. The Avox nodded, nad began to drive down the streets in a hurry.

“First time we saw the Capitol, it was night, like this.” Ma spoke quietly.

“Oh, yes?” Coriolanus asked, looking at you.

“Sejanus sat right where you are, saying, ‘It’ll be all right, Ma. It’ll be okay.’ Trying to calm me down. When we all knew it was a disaster,” Ma looked out the window. “But he was so brave. So good. Only thinking of his ma.”

“Hm. Must have been a big change.” Coriolanus said.

“Family and friends cut us off.” You told him, adjusting in your seat.

“No new ones to be made here. Strabo—their pa, that is—still thinks it was the right thing to do. No kind of future in Two. His way of protecting us. His way of keeping Sejanus and (Y/n) from the Games.”

“Ironic, really. Given the circumstances.” Coriolanus said. “Now, I don’t know what Dr. Gaul has in mind, but I imagine she wants your help getting him out of there.”

“I don’t know if I can. Him so upset and all. I can try, but he’ll have to think it’s the right thing to do.” She said, glancing at you. “I can’t let you go inside. You two have always been close, but I don’t want you in there.”

“I don’t want her to go inside, either.” Coriolanus chimed in. “Maybe there will be a different way.”

When you got to the arena, there were people already waiting outside of the doors. A dozen Peacekeepers, a good handful of Gamemakers, including Dr. Gaul. You approached tentatively, unsure about her presence. She didn’t always come off stable, that’s why you tried to keep your distance.

Coriolanus noticed this, choosing to stand between you two.

“At least you’re punctual.” Dr. Gaul said. “Mrs. Plinth, I presume? And little (Y/n).”

You pressed your lips together. Ma nodded, “Yes, yes. I’m sorry if Sejanus has caused any inconvenience. He’s a good boy, really, It’s just he takes things so to heart.”

“No one could accuse him of being indifferent.” She agreed, looking at Coriolanus. “Any idea how we might rescue your best friend, Mr. Snow?”

“What’s he doing?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring the comment.

“Just kneeling there, looks like.” Dean Highbottom said, eyeing you. “Possibly in some kind of shock.”

“He appears calm. Perhaps you could send the Peacekeepers in now without startling him?” Coriolanus suggested.

“Too risky.” Dr. Gaul shot it down.

“What about putting his mother on a speaker, or a bullhorn?” He asked. “If you can darken the screen, surely you can manipulate the audio as well.”

“On the broadcast. But in the arena, we’d alert every tribute to the fact that there’s an unarmed Capitol boy in their midst.” Dean Highbottom said.

Coriolanus didn’t speak for a second. “What do you propose?”

“We think someone he knows needs to slip in as unobtrusively as possible and coax him out.” Dr. Gaul looked directly at you. “Namely, her.”

“No.” Coriolanus said immediately, shaking his head so hard that his blonde curls started to bounce. “She can’t go in there. I will.”

“Oh, no!” Ma cried. “It can’t be Coriolanus. The last thing we need is to put another child in danger. I’ll do it.”

“What we need is someone who can make a run for it, if necessary. If your daughter won’t, then Mr. Snow is the man for the job.” Dr. Gaul motioned to the Peacekeepers, who came over at her motion to dress him in body armor. “This vest should protect your vital organs. Here’s your pepper spray and a flash unit that will temporarily blind your enemies, should you make any.”

Coriolanus looked down at the bottle of pepper spray. “What about a gun? Or at least a knife?”

“Since you’re not trained, this seems safer. Remember, you’re not in there to do damage; you’re in there to bring your friend out as quickly and quietly as possible.” Dr. Gaul told him.

You started to shake your head, “Coryo, I can’t ask you to do this.”

“You aren’t asking.” He looked at you. “I’m volunteering.”

“He’s just a boy. Let me call my husband.” Ma begged.

Dean Highbottom gave Coriolanus a small smile. “He’ll be all right. It takes a lot to kill a Snow.”

You watched as Coriolanus’s face dropped, he sighed. And then he looked at you. “I’ll bring Sejanus out. Don’t worry.”

“Be careful.” You told him.

The Peacekeepers took him to the arena, where he disappeared inside. Your attention shifted to the news truck with the live feed of the tributes. It was dark though, too dark. You could barely make out anything, meaning you might as well had not been looking at all.

You were able to make out their figures, as Coriolanus slowly approached Sejanus to not scare him. They stood there, the minutes dragging on for what felt like forever, until they finally made the movement to leave, but not without Marcus’s body. They picked it up, made it a good deal across the arena before the other tributes came up to them. Less than a minute later, they came out.

And you were there in an instant, because you refused to leave without seeing either of the boys, while Ma went home. You had to push past the Peacekeepers to see Coriolanus and Sejanus, sitting on the tile. You crouched in front of them, hands on your knees.

“That was stupid of you, Sejanus.” You told your brother, looking at the blood pooling on the ground. “But you did what I couldn’t do.”

And then you looked at Coriolanus, who had his eyes on you already. You could see the scrapes on his face, his chin mostly, and the blood on his forehead. You reached out, he winced, but let you touch the area around the wounds.

“Thank you, Coryo.” You whispered.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, (Y/n).”

From then on, seeing Coriolanus for longer than a few minutes at a time was rare. You looked forward to it each time. You saw him when Sejanus announced the Plinth prize, the sparkle in his eye at the mention of it.

He stopped by a couple days later, after Sejanus had gone to bed and Ma was cooking in the kitchen. You think he wanted to talk to Sejanus, possibly about the whole ordeal in the arena, but he had taken his sleeping medication. With the dosage he was on, there was no waking him.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter, swiveling side to side on the stool, talking to Ma as she baked her pies. You were about to go to bed, dressed in your pajamas, the only reason why you hadn’t was because you were waiting for her to put the peach pie in the oven first. At the sight of Coriolanus, the cuts on his face, and the smile on his lips, you’d clammed up.

“I was just heading off to bed.” You said to him, sliding from the chair.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a piece of pie, (Y/n)?” Ma asked you, worry on her face.

“I’ll have a piece tomorrow.” You told her. “Besides, I think Coryo will have a piece big enough for the both of us, isn’t that right?” You smiled.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“Goodnight.” You murmured, pausing long enough to let Ma kiss your forehead. You waved to Coriolanus, and then disappeared around the corner, where curiosity stopped you.

Except, what they talked about while he enjoyed the blackberry pie wasn’t important, just about Sejanus and how the university would be better when he graduated. The real talk came after, when Pa wanted to see him. And Coriolanus went inside, closing the door behind him, which you then pressed your ear to.

“You look just like your father.”

“I hear that a lot,” Coriolanus said. “Did you know him?”

“Our business overlapped at times.” Pa said. “It’s striking, the resemblance. But you’re nothing like him, really.” He paused for a moment. “Nothing at all. Or you’d never have gone into that arena after my son. Impossible to imagine Crassus Snow risking his life for me. I keep asking myself why you did it.”

“I couldn’t let (Y/n) go inside. And he’s my friend.”

“No matter how many times I hear that, it’s difficult to believe. But even from the beginning, Sejanus singled you out. Maybe you take after your mother, huh? She was always gracious to me when I came here on business before the war. Despite my background. The very definition of a lady. Never forget it.” Pa said, there was another pause. “Are you like your mother?”

Coriolanus didn’t speak right away. “I’d like to think I am, in some respects.”

“In what respects?”

“Well, we shared a fondness for music.”

“Music, huh?”

“And I do think we both believed that good fortune was… something to be repaid… on a daily basis. Not taken for granted.” Coriolanus said.

“I’d agree with that.”

“Oh, good. Yes, well, so… Sejanus.”

“Sejanus. Thank you, by the way, for saving his life.”

“No thanks necessary. As I said, he’s my friend.”

“And (Y/n), is she your friend too?” Pa asked.

“Yes, she is.”

“She tells me that you’ve done a lot for her lately.” Pa said slowly. “You helped her at the zoo?”

“That was nothing.”

“I wouldn’t consider it so. She could’ve gotten seriously hurt if you hadn’t stepped in. You saw the bruises.” He said. “You’ve checked up with her since. And volunteered to keep her safe when Dr. Gaul suggested that she should go inside of the arena.”

“Well—”

“Coriolanus, in District Two, there are traditions we have for families like ours.” Pa said, your eyebrows drew together. “Wealthy families, I mean. I’m not sure if the Capitol has the same beliefs.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following.” Coriolanus said.

“Arranged marriage.”

You felt your blood run cold, but at the same time, the heat flamed in your face, licking your cheeks. You pulled your ear away for a second, thinking that you shouldn’t be listening in on this conversation.

“I’ve heard of families coming together in the Capitol, but it’s not very common.”

“It’s for more than just wealth, it’s to combine names as well.” Pa told him. “Snow is a grand name, don’t you think?”

“As is Plinth.” Coriolanus agreed.

“So, you understand what I’m implying then? What would your grandmother think?”

“I think that she wouldn’t agree to doing it so soon.”

“Of course not, it would happen after graduation, before university.” Pa said, “Will you give me your home phone? I’d like to discuss this with your grandmother.”

After that point, seeing Coriolanus would be painful… except, you didn’t see him the following day. In fact, you didn’t see him again at all. The next time his name was brought up in your house was with Sejanus’s, which was tied in with the words District Twelve and Peacekeepers.

“What?” You asked, coming around the hallway corner. Ma’s eyes widened. “Sejanus is where?”

“Oh, darling, you weren’t supposed to hear that. We wanted to tell you tonight.”

You shook your head. “Sejanus and Coryo went to District Twelve? Why?”

“I believe Coriolanus Snow signed himself up.” Pa told you. “As for Sejanus, it was the best we could do. He won’t be there long.”

“And what about Coriolanus?”

Pa made a face, tilted his head, “Twenty years, is what I was hearing.”

Your mouth dropped open, a reaction that you couldn’t stop in time. “Is that the same for Sejanus?”

“Yes.”

The only option you were given to keep in touch was letters. You could write to either of them whenever you wanted. Ma even told you that she was going to pack them food to send, stuff that they’d never be able to get in the districts, let alone Twelve.

With it being summer, you had plenty of time on your hands to write, but every time you picked up the pencil, the words escaped you. Everything that you’d been bottling to save for Sejanus seemed meaningless. So, you mostly replied to what Sejanus said, which could be a lot. He carried the conversations mostly, and you told him that you missed him. And you’d continue to miss him until he finally came back.

Which would never happen, not that you knew that at the time. It was a quiet day when the news reached your parents about what happened. That your brother had got caught up in rebel activities, which was treason. He was hanged without a trial, without a single letter sent home. For once, your family’s money couldn’t buy his way out of this one.

A black hole appeared in your chest, sucking in everyone’s words, their emotions. Ma couldn’t help you, even though she tried. She spent more time with you, trying to get you to speak, but all you wanted was to forget. Or to go back in time and tell Sejanus he needed to stop, that his actions would cost him his life.

Sejanus.

The boy you grew up with, the one you trusted with every secret, the one that kept you safe. Who you’d play with as a child when no one else would, who would help you with your homework when you fell behind. His sweetness, his hopefulness, his personality. He’s gone. He’s gone and you never got to say goodbye.

All you gave him was half-assed letters. If you’d known that it would be the last time you talked to him, you would’ve done more. You would’ve said so much more.

It was like almost every piece of him was gone, until the next wave of news came. While Sejanus would never get to leave District Twelve, Coriolanus had been honorably discharged. He was coming home to the Capitol. And with it being weeks after Sejanus’s death, it opened up a conversation that you thought was done for good.

The Snow’s were falling. You’d heard the news about Tigris and their grandmother almost immediately after Coriolanus had left. They had to sell their apartment, the nice penthouse you went to visit once. They couldn’t afford to keep it, so they downgraded, but the apartment lay empty.

Pa had decided that it was time to revisit the topic of an arranged marriage when he heard that Coriolanus was coming back. Ma really liked Coryo, because he was such a good friend to Sejanus. With your brother being gone, their attention had shifted a little, split between you and Coryo. Why keep it that way when there was a solution?

His grandmother agreed to it. It took a little bit of convincing, but at the mention of Pa buying the penthouse back as a gift, it made her cave. A letter was promptly sent to Coriolanus, who wasn’t to leave Twelve for another few days while they settled his paperwork.

And his reply? ‘It would be my pleasure.’

As you straighten out the dress again, you look at the time on the clock that the train station has on display. Coriolanus should be arriving at any minute. It was requested that he were to be picked up by a Peacekeeper truck to take him to the Citadel, but Pa pulled strings, as he always does. He wanted your face to be the first thing that Coriolanus saw when he stepped off.

You didn’t agree to this. You wanted to put this off for as long as possible. Sejanus chose to go to District Twelve to follow Coriolanus. They were close. He was the last one to have a conversation with your brother when he was alive. Besides, you’re set to marry him in a few short weeks. His suit measurements take place in two days.

A horn sounds, you look up from your polished shoes, the one scuf you managed to get this morning on the walk here. It was too late to turn around and change the shoes. Besides, they’re the only pair that matches this dress. A whole new outfit bought for Coriolanus, and he won’t even realize it.

The train pulls in the station, blowing cool air into your face. You take in a deep breath, trying to correct your posture. This will be the first time you’ve seen Coriolanus in months. Does he even know that you’re here to greet him?

It doesn’t matter. Once the doors open, you take a few steps toward them, trying to be casual. It’s hard to, with the hammering in your chest. You press your lips together, regripping the handbag, coming to a stop in front of the doors. The first few people that file out look like regular Capitol workers.

You’re too busy looking for Coriolanus’s blonde curls, that you almost miss him stepping out of the doors. His eyes flicker up for a moment, likely to collect his bearings, glancing over you.

You must register in his mind the next second, because he looks directly at you again, stepping off the train. You swallow, eyes stuck on his hair. Or rather, the lack of it. His head’s been shaved.

“(Y/n).” He smiles, “I wish I would’ve known you’d be here, I would’ve had something for you.”

“Your curls…” You murmur, face beginning to contort. If they got rid of his hair when he was enlisted, was the same done to Sejanus?

Coriolanus closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into a tight hug. You press your forehead to his chest, hands gripping the clothes he’s wearing as you fight off the tears that threaten you. You don’t want to cry, you’ve spent so much of your time doing exactly that. For once, you want to be in control.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/n).” He says, “I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been.”

“I miss him.” The words are strained, you pull your head back, looking at Coriolanus. “I wish he would’ve told me what he was planning.”

“He’d never put you in danger.”

“I know.” You back away from the hug. Coriolanus holds out his elbow for you to take, you begin to lead him to the car. “I trust you’ve learned a lot these past few months. Did you get to see Lucy Gray, at least?”

His face smooths out, this was not the right question to ask. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “I did, but her lifestyle is much different from mine.”

You nod. “You’re not district.”

“I’m not covey.” He corrects, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips.

“Oh, so she had you singing?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He looks away, at someone passing by.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a moment. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but much like the letters to your brother, the words have left you. You chew on the inside of your cheek.

“You have something on your mind.” Coriolanus says, it’s not a question.

You sniff. “It’s um… It’s about Sejanus, just one thing I have to know before I can stop thinking about him.”

“He wouldn’t want you to do that.”

“It’s to put my mind at ease.” You stop outside of the car. “I know it’s not your tradition, Coriolanus, but were you able to…”

He nods. “I was.”

You meet his eyes. “The bread crumbs? They let you see his body?”

“He has food on his journey.” He tells you.

You breathe out a sigh. “Oh, good. Ma will be happy to hear that.”

Neither of you move for the car door, standing there, staring at each other. He eventually starts to shake his head. “(Y/n), I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

“It’s too late for that.” You tell him. “We can talk about it more later on, in a few days.”

Coriolanus reaches for the car door, motioning for you to go inside first. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

You don’t move to get inside. “Thank you for being such a good friend to my brother.”

He tilts his head. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“You’re the only piece of him I have left.” You shift on your feet, “I have to thank you.”

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

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americaswritings · 5 months

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The Hunger Games Masterlist

Young Coriolanus Snow

Words of Roses & Ruin | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.

When we stole the night

When Coriolanus is send into the arena to get Sejanus he doesn't make it out and has to hide in the tunnels. That is where he finds you, his tribute.

MORE COMING SOON!

Finnick Odair

MORE COMING SOON!

Add yourself to my taglist!

#the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus #tom blyth #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair fanfiction #sam claflin #coriolanus snow imagine #finnick odair oneshot #hunger games x reader #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games oneshot #coriolanus snow oneshot

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bookofbonbon · 5 months

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strut: through a roundabout - coriolanus snow

Characters: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warnings: Vehicular manslaughter- maybe.

Summary: You're always late to work and today was no different.

Word Count: 400+.

A/N: Inspired by one of my posts on my other blog @sihtriggyr. Enjoy!

You were late- again.

Three weeks under the tutelage of your infamous uncle and you could count on one hand the number of times you had arrived to work on time; your tardiness toward your employment quickly cementing itself as a bad habit you couldn't quite shake- not that you were trying to. Not really. As your uncle said, cars are a luxury few can afford, there is no traffic in the Capitol and yet you are always late.

You glance toward the digital numbers flashing on the dashboard, the clock telling you that you had ten minutes until sign on, however, given the snail pace that you were traveling you wouldn't arrive until five minutes after that.

You approach the unnecessarily large roundabout, merging smoothly into one of the several lanes. Pressing your foot down on the pedal, the vehicle lurches forward, steadily gaining speed. Today, you decide, would be the day you would arrive at work on time this week. The thought however, is quickly banished as you glimpse a flash of red in the middle of all of the lanes.

You slam urgently down on the brakes, steering wheel jerking to the side accompanied with the screech of tyres and the smell of burning rubber but, there's a loud thud anyway- you were too late; you had just hit a young man with your car.

Your heart pounds heavily in your ears, fear poisoning your chest and spreading through the rest of your body as you throw the car door open and run to the aid of the young man without a second thought for yourself.

He's on his side when you approach. Breath catching in your throat, you kneel behind him, instinctively pressing two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. It's faint but it's there and aside from his torn clothes and what looked to be a few scratches, the young man looked otherwise fine and you remember to breathe again.

With shaky hands, you ease the young man onto his back, a stab of annoyance replacing the fear that poisoned your chest as irritation begins to set in.

"What sort of idiot goes strutting through a roundabout?" you question angrily, fingers delicately brushing the centre of his palm.

So, finally you look at the young man- really look at him. Your nose wrinkles immediately, mouth twisting itself into a deep scowl at the familiar face.

Coriolanus Snow.

Coriolanus Snow is the sort of idiot who goes strutting through a roundabout.

Maybe you didn't feel so bad about hitting someone with your if it was him.

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coryo snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo snow x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow oneshot #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader

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cozymaples · 4 months

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white snow, red as strawberries in the summertime. | (coryo x reader)

a/n: i have yet to write for coryo yet, but this came to me and i just….needed to execute it. merry early christmas!

contains/tw: bl00d play , kn!fe play, afab!reader, oral!f receiving

coryo who doesn't trust you enough to assure people that you're his, causing his ideas to run wild. coryo whose gaze locks on yours, silently asking 'do you trust me?' to which you nod.

coryo who takes his exorbitant dagger, often held close for safe keeping, now delicately dragging the tip of the blade along your skin. it pierces the doughy flesh of your thigh, and you hiss lightly through your teeth. he's knelt between your legs, arm hitched under your knee as he shelves your leg, draped over his shoulder down his back. the posture helps with his precision, carving the first inital of his name into your skin.

you're embarrassed of the way the pain makes your clit throb, and you jerk slightly as he continues through each letter. "hold still," he says. you whine softly in response, more out of fear than desire; though, they're in battle to overpower the other, since your brain can't make up its mind.

you feel your blood trickle down your thigh, hearing it patter on the marble floor beneath you.

"it'll stain," you breathe.

"we have people for that." he assures you.

your thigh is warm now, and you're praying he's near finished. your question is answered when your hear the metal clang of the dagger, carelessly being tossed to the side. it surprises you; and you finally gaze down at him, seeing the mess he's made. "coryo-" you gasp, and before you can say any more, his mouth is latched to your thigh, sucking against his initials. it makes you see starts, falling back against the chair he's placed you in.

"stay still," he instructs, crimson staining his lips. you only sigh with relif, your brain foggy with lust. you couldn't do anything other than stay put for him, and he knows it. "are you with me, or no?" he asks, and although it's abrasive, it's his form of consent. you nod. "always."

he tears your panties from you, the fabric splitting with a loud rip. like the dagger, they’re discarded to the side. he immediately hitches both of your legs over his shoulders, mouth latching to your pussy. it causes your body to jerk, gasping and hissing through your teeth.

his mouth is tender, but works relentlessly against your clit. the remnants of crimson along your thigh brush against his cheek, blushing him. your moans echo, and he silently allows you to tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, not protesting a bit as you tug at them.

it only encourages him to work harder-faster.

his tongue presses flat against your pussy, licking a broad stripe up to your clit. when he reconnects with it, he’s sucking on it gently tongue lapping beneath it.

“coryo,” you whine, a warning. he tugs you closer to him, harshly, nearly knocking you off the chair. your hips reactively buck upwards; and he releases his grip on your unmarked thigh, using two fingers to pump in and out of you. he begins brushing along the spot nestled deep inside of you, that only he was allowed to reach.

he hums satisfactorily as you unravel for him, smug and knowing; it was sooner or later. your fingers are nestled in his hair, white-knuckled and desperate to ground yourself. your face is flushed red when he pulls back from you, his features slick with your cum, glistening on his lips. his left cheek is brandished with your blood, and you stare at him, bewildered.

“i’ve had you in pain, and i’ve had you in pleasure. granted you both.” he says, “eased you out of one, rewarding you with the latter.” you nod.

“now,” he starts, glancing at your embellished thigh, sore and tender with his engraved initials. “whose are you?” he asks, looking up at you. your gaze stays on his, following it as he rises to his feet. “yours.” you say, “i’m only yours, coryo.” he tugs your dress back down, and you smooth it out with your palms. he cups your chin, glancing down at you as he nods once.

“don’t forget it.”

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etfrin · 5 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One. Snow was here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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kasagia · 4 months

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Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

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venuslore · 5 months

Text

𖥔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𖥔

summary ; after being struck by a peacekeeper, coryo puts aside his differences to clean you up.

pairing ; coriolanus snow x fem!reader

notes ; pls coryo may be a little ooc in this but i tried. ok? i tried! physical violence, mentions of blood and death, as well as the events that take place in the hunger games universe, spoilers for tbosas !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

the blow sent a stinging sensation through your cheek, the level of force behind it knocking you to the ground on impact. you had always wondered what it would feel like to be hit in the face – if you would be able to take it – and well, now you knew.

you sat there on the ground, a spectacle among the crowd, and all because you were helping an elderly lady and unknowingly stepped into the peacekeeper’s way. you didn’t mean to, and before you knew it his leather glove was colliding with the side of your face.

you loathed the peacekeepers, everyone did, but specifically the way they thought they could belittle you and your people just because of their job title. and yet, it terrified you to know how harsh they were over something so small, you couldn’t even begin to think how torturous they could be behind closed doors.

once the peacekeepers move on, laughing among themselves at what they had done to you, a man and his wife help you to your feet, and you dust yourself off. your palms burned from the rubble you had landed on, small rocks sticking into your skin, and your head was ringing, but nothing compared to the side of your face.

you were tough, there was no doubt about it, but having the peacekeeper’s hand collide with your face with such force had you a little shaken up.

“i’m okay, everyone,” you let the group of onlookers, and those that had helped you, know. with a faux smile and a reassuring nod, you quickly return to helping the woman pick up her belongings that had been knocked over in the midst of it all.

“oh, don’t worry about me, dear. go take care of yourself,” she gestures to your face and your hand instinctively reaches to feel the wet cut that had formed on your lip. a small speckle of blood now on your fingers as a metallic taste fills your senses. it ached to touch, and if it looked bad now, you could only imagine how bad it was going to be later.

you take your leave from the woman and make your way home along the seam. the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds as the sound of the town drowns out behind you and into the distance. people watched as you passed them by, noticing the blood on your face and probably wondering what had happened.

you didn’t mind the stares, not much happened in the district, and it wasn't as if you had anything to be ashamed of. well, not that anyone knew of anyway.

you eventually make it to the last stretch of the dirt path before your house when your name gets called out, stopping you in your tracks, and in the direction it had come from were a couple more peacekeepers. though, these ones didn’t instil fear in you the same way the others had.

they were familiar faces – faces that you were somewhat glad to see – however, you weren’t sure how they were going to react seeing the new feature that had been ever so kindly bestowed upon your face.

sejanus waves you over, tapping his partner on the shoulder once he notices, and gestures towards you. coriolanus stands beside him, turning your way after seeing the panicked look on his friend's face, and his smile drops the second he sees the cut on your lip and the bruise that had already begun to form.

“y/n…” he speaks your name delicately, a forbidden whisper, before rapidly scanning your surroundings to make sure the area was safe. it was. “what happened?”

he wants to reach for you, to pull you into his arms and kiss you better, anything he can to make sure you were okay, but he can’t. he knows that. it would be too much of a risk in such an open space and he wasn’t going to be the reason you end up with another bruise, or worse. so he quickly fixes his posture and positions his gun against his shoulder where it was meant to be.

“oh, this? it’s nothing,” you wave them off, even adding a wink to further convince them that you were fine.

sejanus smiles, even stifles a laugh at your nonchalant attitude, but not coriolanus. no. he could see right through the smile you were presenting them with. how could he not? he had spent far too much time staring at you, his lover, whether it be from across the town square, or beside you in your bed. he knew every which way your face contorted and exactly what it meant.

he could see you were in pain.

his jaw tightens at this, fighting the urge to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder so that he could take you home. it was one thing to have to watch the horrors and physical brutality that went on in the district every day, most of which he had become numb to, but seeing you be the victim of it filled him with not only rage, but fear.

he wanted – no, needed – you to be safe.

“is there anything we can do?” sejanus offers. “anything we can get you?”

“don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine,” you smile once again, though this time, coriolanus refuses to sit by and watch you lie.

“can you cover for me?” he asks, though you know it’s meant for sejanus, who instantly nods at the request, further proving his loyalty to his friend. “go home and wait for me. i won’t be long, just don’t touch it.”

while you wanted nothing more than for coriolanus to follow you home, you knew he couldn’t. it wasn’t safe, not while the sun was still out, “no, i’m fine. i promise.”

“just do what i say, okay?” his eyes bore into you now, an urgency in them as his protective side comes into play, and you knew there was no point trying to argue with him when he got like this.

you nod, begrudgingly, and lazily salute the pair before continuing on down the path to your house. it was only a little ways away from where the boys had spotted you, but the second you see the chipping wood and beaten down stairs that you called ‘home’, you’re overcome with relief.

upon entering you immediately splay yourself down on the sofa — one of the few pieces of furniture you still owned after your parents — and wait, just like coriolanus had asked you. your head had stopped ringing a little, but the throbbing pain in your cheek was still there. nonetheless, you knew it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight come morning.

minutes pass, twenty-seven to be exact, before you hear shuffling at your back window, followed by heavy footsteps. you knew it was coriolanus. he regularly came through the back of the house so as not to be seen by your neighbours, but like you always tell him, barely anyone bothered to come down your way.

the second his face comes into view, you let off a weak smile, more so as he begins to remove his uniform, placing it down on the table in the corner of the room, alongside his gun, “i don’t have long. sejanus is covering for me, but even he knows it won’t be long before they start wondering where i am.”

“you really didn’t have to come. i told you, i’m fine,” you sit up now as coriolanus meets your side with a small package in his hand.

the look in his eyes shifts as he gets a closer inspection of the damage that had been done to your face, a heavy breath falling from his lips. coriolanus believed people deserved to be punished for the things they did, but not you – never you. you were his girl, his flower, his love – and he had been doing everything in his power to make sure you were safe.

he knew it wasn’t his fault what had happened earlier, but he still couldn’t help but feel somewhat to blame. he should’ve been there to stop the situation, de-escalate it in any way that he could. he had been doing everything in his power to keep you off the other peacekeeper’s radars, away from any potential danger, and selfishly, away from him ever losing you.

you watch as the stiffness in his jaw goes slack and his shoulders slump a little, eyes downturing as his lips push out into a pout ever so slightly. you reach for his hand, “coryo, what’s wrong?”

“i just… i don’t like to see you hurt,” he pulls his gaze away from you now, wanting to avoid thinking about it, and begins to unwrap the small package in his hand to reveal a mini first-aid kit. “i grabbed what i could without anyone seeing me, though i doubt you’ll need most of it.”

you watch as he gathers a small cloth, coated with a disinfectant solution and gently dabs at the cut on your lower lip. it stings a little but you didn’t mind, you’d do just about anything to get a moment alone with coriolanus. perhaps getting hit in the face wasn’t all bad, at least the outcome of it anyway.

once the cut was cleaned, he pulls out a small bandage and presses it across your lip. you weren’t sure you really needed it but it felt nice to be looked after. as for the bruise, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do.

“how does it look?” you sigh, and he reaches up to gently brush the tender skin.

“it looks… like it needs something,”

“and what’s that?” coryo’s lips quirk up into a roguish grin before he slowly leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek. it’s soft and sweet, and gentle. all of the things coryo was when it was just the two of you alone. “you know what? i think you might be onto something.”

coryo’s laughter reverberates through his entire body, looking at you with glistening eyes, but he gives in, pressing another kiss to your lips, and what starts as a light brush of your lips on his becomes much more when you find yourself pushing him backwards on the sofa. he doesn’t protest and lets himself fall into the cushion behind him as you situate yourself on his lap. there’s no hesitation when his hands cup your thighs, running small comforting circles into your skin.

you stay like that for a few moments, small trickles of laughter escaping you both as you continue to kiss before you evidently decide to curl yourself up into him. you nuzzle your head into his chest, one leg still draped across his as the other burrows in next to him and instinctively his hand searches for yours - fingers idly grazing one another before he threads his through to hold you.

“so, what’s the verdict doc? will i make it?” you smile.

“as long as i have anything to do with it,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, but you can’t help but feel like there was another meaning to his words.

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0anonnymouslyours0 · 5 months

Text

coriolanus snow +18 (firstly why is 'anus' so overly pronounced)

"corio.." a whimper escapes your lips, swiftly covered by snows hand.

"keep quiet." he says firmly.

"fuck i-"

your struggling, squirming under his grasp. pressed up against the wall, his hand under your red academy skirt, and the other clasped over your mouth. his breath is hot next to your ear, whispering to you.

"looked so good, couldn't resist you baby."

his fingers rub along your clit, collecting your slick, in a way that makes you throw your head against the wall, and your eyes roll. everything about him is perfected, even the way he fucks you.

his lips are on your neck, sucking harshly, leaving marks similar to the shade of your uniform. the way he touches you is possessive, because coriolanus likes to think of you as one of his possessions, something he can control.

caging you against the wall, you can feel the pressure of his cock against your thigh, begging to be touched. you'll return the favour later.

you're a few heated breaths away from cumming, thighs shaking and weak.

"snow-" you muffle through his hand.

his hand comes down under your ass, holding you up against the wall and him. your unravelling right under him.

"can feel you getting close, sweetheart."

his removes his hand, kissing you desperately as you reach your high. his hand reaches his mouth, sucking his finger, as you stare wide-eyed.

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lqveharrington · 5 months

Text

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow (Masterlist)

summary: You and Coriolanus Snow having been dating, but your father disapproves of it, leading to an Ultimatum. Will the deal be secured? Or will the 10th Annual Hunger Games ruin it all?

- prolouge

1. Reaping Day

2. Capitol Zoo

3. Arena Promotion

4. The 10th Annual Hunger Games

5. The Winner’s Guilt

6: The Peacekeeper

upcoming chapters…

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snowfll · 5 months

Note

Hi! Can you write one about Tom Blyth and actress!reader where after filming a movie they grew closer and closer until finally one day Tom or reader or both confess their feelings for one another? Or maybe it can be them both being oblivious and everyone basically knows they’re in love until one of their costars helps them finally confess to one another? Thank you!

Baby, You're Perfect; Tom Blyth

pairing - Tom Blyth x actress!reader summary - its easy to fall for Tom on screen and even easier to fall for him in real life words - 1.31k warning - js fluff! Tom's a cutie note - I tried my best! I hope you like it :3 idk why but the pictures aren't working. trying to fix it asap

"You two are awfully close."

Although neither of you answered the question, the interviewer could sense the unspoken truth lingering in the air, revealed by the way both of you were flustered.

Working alongside Tom on a romance film created a bond that extended beyond the scripted lines. Having played his love interest on screen, the chemistry between the two of you was through the roof.

From the moment you sat down in your designated seat at the table, he caught your eye. You were curious to see how the chemistry read would play out. It turns out you two got along extremely well.

“Well, yes, seeing him every day has that effect; he’s such a sweetheart,” you confessed during the interview, a smile playing on your lips.

“Oh, don’t listen to her; she’s over-exaggerating," Tom interjected with a playful grin, emphasizing the chemistry within your off-screen dynamic.

He is a known gentleman, bringing you flowers every week on set—a thoughtful act born from the understanding of your love for them. The cast playfully teased him for it, drawing parallels from his on-screen character, who loved giving gifts to his girl. You adored his actions; no one had ever brought you flowers before.

As filming wrapped up, a sense of melancholy settled in, originating from the reluctance to part ways—you enjoyed your time on set. The days were a blend of shooting scenes or relaxing with Tom wherever you were, no matter what you were with him at all times.

Now that you were on the press tour for your film, you and Tom were closer than ever. The days were a whirlwind, going from interview to interview and then straight to the hotel to catch up on rest. The limited days off were cherished, offering you both a break from the spotlight.

Walking through different cities with Tom by your side became a treasured routine, despite the presence of paparazzi trailing your every move. Cameras flashed every time you went out with your hands intertwined, capturing moments that fueled rumors and speculations.

“Tom! Are you and Ms. Jones matching shoes on purpose?” A paparazzo called out, drawing attention to the coordinated footwear chosen during your shopping spree.

“Ms. Jones, do you have anything to comment on the dating rumors between you and Mr. Blyth?” another inquired. That is what most of them ask nowadays. Could they sense the feelings you had for your co-star? Ignoring the persistent questions, Tom guided you away from the crowd of cameras, seeking refuge in the waiting car.

“That was a lot,” he remarked after a few minutes of silence, his tone carrying exhaustion.

“It was. I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room.” He sensed something was off as you muttered your response. You were always able to hold a conversation with him; there was never a dull moment between you two. Though he knew you were tired from the day’s activities, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done anything wrong.

As the car pulled up to the hotel, you hastily exited and rushed up to your room, leaving him behind. Guilt gnawed at you, but facing him after the intrusion of the paparazzi was a challenge you weren’t ready to tackle.

A few hours later, a soft knock at your door interrupted the solitude. You welcomed him in before crawling under the covers once again; there was no reason to ignore him.

“What’s going on, sweetie?” He looked at you with concern filling his eyes as he sat down next to you on the bed. “I know it's not because you’re tired; you’ve been napping for a while. Please talk to me." His genuine concern cut through the unspoken tension.

Once you didn’t answer, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of bed. The two of you made your way to the door, where he handed you your shoes.

“Where are we going?” You questioned while standing back up, to which he replied by telling you your destination is someplace you would enjoy.

He dragged you all the way to the car and closed your door as you got in the passenger seat, like a true gentleman. The two of you drove around with the windows down, screaming along to your shared playlist.

“Are you feeling better, now?” He turned down the music, waiting to hear your answer. “I am, thank you. Would you like me to explain?" Communication was very important to you, and unable to deceive him, you felt compelled to reveal the truth.

“In all honesty, the paparazzi got too overwhelming. Especially with all the dating questions.” You admitted, your gaze fixed on a point in the car, avoiding direct eye contact.

Tom’s expression softened, a mixture of understanding and empathy in his eyes. He parked the car in an empty parking lot before reaching out for your hand and placing it in his lap. “Hey, you don’t have to face this alone. And, for the record, I hate how they invade our personal lives as well.”

A smile appeared on your lips, appreciating his supportive words. “It’s just... the questions about us and whether we are dating. I didn’t know how to handle it,” you confessed, vulnerability filling the open air.

He nodded, his thumb gently rubbing against your hand. “I understand; it's okay to feel overwhelmed. But you don’t have to worry about handling it alone. We can get through this together.”

The sincerity in his words reassured you and provided comfort in his presence. “Thank you, Tom. This means a lot more than you realize,” you replied, your voice genuine.

"Anytime, sweetie, we’re a team, on and off-screen.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You couldn’t help but notice a shift in the air—a subtle change in the dynamic between you two. The unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface were now begging to be let out.

Silence soon enveloped the car; the only thing playing was the music set to a low volume. The weight of the implicit emotions hung in the air, yet there was a shared understanding that needed no words.

You debated breaking the silence, but fortunately, Tom spoke up before you could. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it more and more recently... Maybe it’s time we addressed the dating rumors.”

Your eyebrows were raised in surprise. “Agreed, but how do we go about it?"

“Let’s be honest with them,” he paused, thinking of how he should continue. “We were going to have to talk about it one day, so why not tell them the truth now?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and the idea of him actually liking you echoed in your mind. “The truth?”

He nodded, honesty in his eyes. “What if we tell them that the chemistry they see on screen is more than just acting?"

You caught your breath, the unspoken truth finally swimming to the surface. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I like you, not just as a co-star; everything we do together is what I've always dreamed about. Baby, you’re perfect.”

A rush of emotion swept over you, and a genuine smile graced your face. “Tom, I like you too, more than I ever thought I would.”

His smile mirrored yours as he stared into your eyes. “Then let’s tell them the truth. We like each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

As you shared a lingering look, he slowly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Your surroundings seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment of equal vulnerability.

Breaking the kiss, Tom grinned, his eyes filled with love and affection. “Ready to face the world?” he paused, waiting for some kind of response, continuing once he saw you nod.

"So, let’s start right now.”

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #oneshot #fluff #tom blyth x you #confession #late night drives

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americaswritings · 5 months

Text

Voices of Roses and Ruin

Warnings: Psychological torture, manipulation, Coriolanus being himself

Summary: Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.

Words: around 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I watched TBOSAS yesterday and yeah don't judge me but young Snow is hot and I shipped him and Lucy Gray a lot (until it all went downhill cough cough). Obviously he's horrible and does many unspeakable things later (!!!). But I think the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute has so much potential and when I saw the birds in the film I thought of this idea.

This is written from Coriolanus perspective (I haven't read the book yet. I just bought it and I'm so excited to read it!). I obviously wanted this to be about real feelings, but I tried to stay true to his character so there are some 'questionable' and alarming thoughts and motifs in here.

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part II | Masterlist

Coriolanus had thought watching you in the arena, alone and scared, hiding from a pack of murders that were hunting for your life was among the worst things he had ever gone through, but nothing could have prepared him for the Gamemaker’s new horrendous plan.

He was tired, just as you were, but refused to go home like most students had done. Instead his head was resting in his hand as he kept watching your sleeping form, as if he could protect you if he just kept his eyes on the screen and on the lookout for a potential threat.

He wouldn’t be able to do anything for you, if the pack of murders found you. He couldn’t warn you or give you advice.

All he could do was sit here and watch and he found himself thinking if this was not the worst torture of them all; being trapped here while you were out there and all he could do was watch.

You were trembling in your sleep, if from the cold or fear he didn’t know, but he kept his expression carefully guarded as he felt his own heart breaking bits by bits.

Even there covered in dirt, with your hair a wild mess and your clothes strained with mud you looked breathtaking to him.

You were pretty, there was no denying that. Everyone else saw it too. He saw it in the way heads turned for you, men‘s eyes raking over your body like you were theirs to take.

He hated it, every part of it.

They all deserved to die.

But it wasn’t your looks that had drawn his attention to you. What had fascinated him. He liked to think he wasn‘t shallow like most people and blinded by pretty things.

No, what has drawn him to you was the way you carried yourself. The confidence you wore like an amour. Yet you were breakable at the same time.

You seemed to be made up of duality; strong but so weak, fierce but uncertain, opinionated but withdrawn, stubborn but helpless.

You were a dangerous little thing and a petite fragile flower at once. Drawing all eyes on you but forgotten due to your ordinariness by most after a moment.

Not by him though. To him you could never be ordinary.

It was frustrating and captivating and alluring.

Naturally, his constant worry for you since you had entered the arena stemmed from his will to get the scholarship. It was what he deserved and he would claim it.

Tht was why he was so engaged in saving you, not because of the deep unease he felt when he saw you in that arena, your eyes drifting around frantically until they passed a camera and he could have sworn they had locked on his for a moment.

It had nothing to do with the way his whole body seemed to light up when you smiled or the invisible pull he felt towards you when you were in the same room as him.

He definitely didn’t want to kiss you and he didn’t dream about you since the reaping, when his eyes had fallen on you for the first time and he had only thought one thing: You’re mine now.

Mine to claim, to showcase, to protect.

He had gone into the mentorship thinking he would use you to serve him and his purpose of getting what he deserved, but as he watched you now, still rooted in his chair although a deep exhaustion weighted down his body, he knew he was serving you.

Being here with you every second of the way. Vowing to protect you. Whatever it took.

You awoke from your restless sleep right before the screaming started. In an instant you were up, your eyes widened in panic as you gazed around, trying to locate the source. With the rest of the students that had stayed Coriolanus flinched in his seat, leaning forward to try and help you figure this out.

As quickly as it had started the screaming stopped and for a moment you were one, both breathing and blinking heavily as your mind tried to make sense of what happened.

And then he heard a voice. His voice. “Follow me.”

He forgot to breathe for a moment as he stared at what was happening in pure shock. You seemed just as confused, turning around in circles as you tried to find him there.

„Coriolanus?”, you whispered and took a step forward, towards the voice. “Follow me”, it whispered again and he watched you do.

No, no, no.

Around him he heard chuckles from the other students, but he drowned them out. All he could focus on was you, following his voice through the darkness. “Where are you?”, you hissed, your eyes darting around. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you.”

He sank lower in his seat, wishing himself somewhere else. It wasn’t him saying the words, obviously, but it was his voice and everyone could hear it, see you follow it.

He hoped people would laugh about you. About your nativity and the brilliant idea of the gamemaker to use your mentors voice against you. Hell, he didn’t even care, if they thought you might have a silly little crush on him and the gamemaker used it against you.

Because if people knew the whole truth, he couldn’t imagine the catastrophe that would follow.

The truth that there was something between the two of you, the mentor and the tribute. That it was something he couldn’t explain, but had let him do dangerous things. Break rules. Forget himself.

The truth that this might not be him speaking those words now, but that he had spoken them to you once. Had they been listening all this time?

His stomach twist in terror as he tried to remember all you had shared with each other, all he had said to you. Promised you.

It would ruin him.

“I can’t see you”, you whispered now, being led further into darkness.

Damn it, think! He wanted to yell at you. It’s not me. I’m not there.

There was no reason for him to be there.

Except…there was.

“I’m here to see you. I won’t let anything happen to you!”

“How cute”, one girl hissed in his ear, but he remained stoic. “She’s as dumb as they come”, another said and he wanted to punch her. Enjoy the feeling of triumph when she looked at him in horror and didn’t dare open her mouth again.

“Looks like you’re guiding her straight to her own death. How ironic.”

And it was ironic.

Maybe in his attempt to protect you, save you, all he had done was ruined your one chance.

All he had said to you to make you trust him and then because he hadn’t been able to stop himself were used against you now and all he could do was watch. Keeping his face carefully blank he shut out their voices. They didn’t matter.

Finally he saw you hesitate. Maybe you had remembered his exact words or maybe you realized that you weren’t getting anywhere. That if it truly was him he would have just stepped out of the shadows and shown his face. “Is this real?”

Oh how funny it was to the people around him. He hated them all. Every single one.

Your words hit a mark. They pierced right through his heart, because he had said them to you. Whispered them. Before your farewell, when he had visited you one last time.

Your faces had only been separated by a few inches and he had fought the urge to kiss you right there and then. But he couldn’t.

Because of everything, but also because it felt too much like goodbye. It was stupid, but if he didn’t give into the temptation then, a part of him hoped it meant you would come back to him.

That your chapter wasn’t over, your story just starting. He would kiss you when you won. When there was a chance for a future with you.

Still those words had escaped his mouth, like he needed the reassurance that you felt the same way. That this meant something, so much that it was worth the risk.

Coriolanus leaned forward in his seat, hope blossoming in his chest. He didn’t know why whatever game they were playing with you hadn’t affected the other tributes yet, but he was sure their time would come.

And right now it seemed you wouldn’t fall for their tricks. Because there could come no answer to your question, as he had been the one asking it.

But he had underestimated the gamemakers.

Instead of a reply there came a scream and then a groan. “Coriolanus?” “Help me!”, he heard himself yelp. What?! He had never sounded like that.

But then flashes came back to him. The bombs. How the arena had collapsed, almost burying him alive. He would have died there, if it hadn’t been for you.

You had saved him.

But how in the hell did they get his voice now?!

“Coriolanus!”

Gone was the glimpse of hesitance and suspicion and you began sprinting into the direction the voice was coming from.

No!

He watched with dread as you ran directly towards the sound. It’s not real, he whispered, knowing you couldn’t hear him but desperately hoping somehow his words would reach you.

When you stumbled upon a clearing you jerked to a stop, twisting and turning, your gaze furiously searching for something.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!” But he could only hear his own painful screams, in between pleading for your help. Sounds he was certain he had never made.

What was this?

With a stab of pain he saw your face was tearstained. You were crying. For him. For someone from the capitol.

Was this what the gamemaker wanted?

Whatever you did or said would never matter again.

All everyone would see when they looked at you now was the broken girl in a dark forest, all alone and desperate and crying for a man she never stood a chance with.

A man who knew hunger just as you did, who in a way fought for survival every day too. But they would never see that, because unlike you he wouldn’t let them. Where you had no choice, he still had one. And he was watching that one chance crumble in front of him.

Flashes of a better life filled his mind.

A house. Plates of food. Tigris smiling. His uniform, a real one made from the finest materials hanging draped neatly over a chair. Laughter echoing through the corridors and then a flash of your face as you stepped into the room, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you leaned over the desk to peek a look at what he was working on.

It was the life they deserved, he deserved, if he got the scholarship. But you were there too. Alive and well, just as breathtaking. And you were his.

There had never been the choice between the scholarship and you, because they were one. Your life was connected to it and so his was to yours.

But now he could loose both and he felt the agony of that thought travel through his whole body.

The screaming seemed to be everywhere and he watched helplessly as you bent forward, covering your ears. All he wanted was to get the screaming to stop, wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was okay.

Instead he forced a neutral expression on his face, as if seeing you break didn’t break him the same way and pray for this hell to end.

Part II

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sleepershell · 5 months

Text

Study Sesh

pairing coriolanus snow x capitol!fem!reader

content coryo is his own warning, ambitious reader, relatively nice coryo, 18+ nsfw minors DNI pls, oral sex (female receiving & male receiving), slight use of force, gentle dom

synopsis you offer your best friend Coryo something he can’t refuse when he’s over at your house

wc 2222

Coriolanus Snow never paid attention the way I wanted him to. Even with the house all to ourselves, my parents away attending to business, he was studying. It’d been weeks since I’d gotten him to come over to hang out and even then he chose to come over and study. I let out a long sigh.

“Coryo, can we please do something else?”

His eyes didn’t even lift from the book his nose was buried in. “Soon. We have a paper due on this in a week.”

“Don’t remind me.” I huffed. “I'm not even as far as you are.”

Still focused on the page, he slid my own copy across the table, closer to me. “Then you should be reading.”

I took the book begrudgingly and opened to where I’d left off. I couldn’t focus on any of the words with him sitting right there, so I hopped up from my seat and began to pace about the room, book held out in front of me. It was a sunny winter day, and our big drawing room windows let in huge swaths of sunlight. They felt pleasantly warm on my arms through my silken shirt sleeves.

Sudden movement made me jump as Coryo set down his book. “Would you please stop that pacing, I can’t concentrate at all!” He was such a grump most of the time. It made him all the more fun to tease.

“Oh, but I can’t concentrate without pacing.”

“Well, do it elsewhere, then.”

“That would defeat the purpose of having you over, wouldn’t it?”

He looked at me, his mouth pursed, before beginning to stand. “You’re right.”

“No, no, no, no.” I rushed over to him, gently grasping his arm. “I just won’t study.”

He sat back down in the sitting chair I’d dragged over to the table for him. He would never be so careless with my parents’ furniture, so I made sure to always do what I could to accommodate him. I was the only one in school who knew how he lived. It was by accident, truly. We’d been very young when I’d followed him home from school. His family had insisted on me coming in once I knocked despite Coriolanus being horribly upset at my being there. But I’d never told a soul. I think in a way it was a relief for him to have one person who knew, one person he could talk to. Not that he often would. He preferred to hold that part of him very close. I was his best friend and, still, I felt I couldn't get him to see me. Occasionally he’d take comfort in me but his focus was always elsewhere.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere, I left him alone to go sit in the wide outcropping sill of one of the windows. It was even warmer there, and I felt like a cat all perched up with my knees to my chest. He was so solemn as he read, his eyebrows scrunched in focus. A beautiful blonde curl fell in front of his face. He remained still but for his breathing, as if he hadn’t noticed. As he turned the page, I watched his strong fingers. He was able to hold the book open with one hand, the other pressed to his lips. I listened as the grandfather clock ticked on. Wondered for the better part of an hour whether he’d ever look up, whether he’d ever see me.

“Coryo?”

He turned his intense eyes up to me.

I stood and unbuttoned the front of my blouse, letting it fall to my sides and reveal the white lace brassiere beneath.

He blinked but didn’t spare a gaze at my chest. “I’m busy right now.”

I crossed the room to him, slipping off my loafers on the way and leaving my blouse behind. He was practically hunched over the book. I placed my hands on the back of his perfectly tailored red jacket. He was so good at appearing perfect, wasn’t he? Sometimes I hated him for it. In truth, my own parents liked him better than me. But as I felt the hardness of his shoulders and the heat through the fabric, I realized exactly how I could get his attention.

I leaned forward, curling my arms around the front of him. My face nestled into his neck, I took a deep breath of his scent—the faintest whiff of human sweat behind clean linen and flowering roses. He hummed as I whispered into his ear.

“I think it’s time for a break.”

He tensed. “(Y/n), you know I can't. I need to keep my place at the top.”

I grumbled and let him go, pacing back to where I’d left the shirt. I unhooked my skirt there, dropping it in a heap at my ankles. When I turned to look at him, he’d taken out a damned pencil and was underlining something in the book. I stomped toward him and placed my palms firmly on the cool wood of the table.

“Coriolanus, you’ll need more than good grades on your side and you know it.” Finally, I had his attention. He was frowning at me, as usual, but it was a start. “I can get you the rest, but I won’t be so inclined if you can’t even spare a moment to indulge me.”

The book slapped shut as he removed his thumb. “What are you doing?” He looked at me like an adversary. I felt a fire in my core knowing that I could get him riled up. It meant he knew I wasn't like most of those other idiots at the Academy. I didn’t study because I didn't care much about my grades despite having the aptitude. I was assured a comfortable life regardless. I doubted he saw anyone as an equal, so I’d have to settle for being a worthy opponent.

I crouched down, crawling toward him under the table like a stalking cat. As I kneeled before him he looked down at me with a peculiar expression.

“Mr. Snow, I think you’ll find it quite hard to claw your way to the top without some extra cash in your pockets.” The crotch of his pants was beginning to look a bit too tight. I bent forward to place a kiss on it and heard him hiss in response.

“You’re obscene, you know that?”

“What’s obscene, Mr. Snow, is the wealth my parents are drowning in.” I leaned my head on his thigh, peering up at him as innocently as I could manage. “Wealth I can influence in the direction I’d like it to go. And they do so love you. It wouldn’t even be a hard sell.”

I could see the ghost of a smile on his face and knew I’d said the right thing. “Call me President.”

“Yes, President Snow.” I said it prettily, and his smile broadened at the sound.

“You’ve decided to bribe me like I’m a whore.” He said, all the while undoing his trousers. I was getting exactly what I wanted, but the deal was even sweeter for him, I knew.

His hardness sprang from his briefs with power. I ran a fingertip along its length. It was already leaking at the tip, and I brushed over it causing him to shudder. Without breaking eye contact, I licked it off my finger.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered. His hips tipped forward the slightest bit, clearly yearning for me to take him in my mouth. And I did. With one hand gripped around the warm base, I slid my lips over him. He was larger than I’d realized before, so I began slowly, only taking half of it. He groaned, and I had to press my own legs together in response to the twinge between them. I was able to touch my lips to my hand after a few bobs of my head, and as I descended onto him, he seemed to come to life.

I felt his hands both rest gently on the back of my head as I moved, making sure I knew not to back off too far. If I did, I would find the end to that gentleness. His breathing was quickened which made me respond by increasing my own speed. That must have been it for him, because I felt his hands turn to stone as he began bucking his hips, thrusting himself further into my mouth.

As he fucked, I could feel the end of him hitting me in the throat, almost too far but not quite. He was groaning little affirmations to me then, as he used me to get chase the feeling building up inside him. Saliva was beginning to fall from my mouth around his cock, and I could feel some of it running down my chin and throat, sliding onto my chest. He pushed himself to the end and held himself in my throat, giving me no warning before spilling heat inside me. I felt the twitch and his whole body go still as his cum pumped into me. It was so deep it took no effort to swallow. When he relaxed, my head lolled to rest on his thigh. I listened as his breathing evened out. I stood.

“Well,” My voice was hoarse so I cleared my throat. “Would you like to get back to work now?”

He frowned up at me again, stood so fast I could hardly register it. His face leaned in so close to me, thumb brushed my chin and the other hand curled around my waist. I was suddenly very aware of how little fabric covered my body. My skin turned to gooseflesh. He peered into my face with those wide, puppy dog eyes of his. I couldn’t summon any words.

“I’m not through with you.” He growled.

My butt had been pressed into the edge of the table behind me, and he pushed my back onto it as well. The drawing room chandelier was right above me, shining in the sun.

A finger traced over my thigh. He was standing there looking down on me, like an appraisal. I thought about cringing from his gaze but didn’t think I could even feign being that demure. This was exactly what I wanted. His finger moved across the silk of my panties. Our eyes locked, and a smile returned, his nostrils flaring slightly in amusement. I was certainly soaked.

“(Y/n), is this really all you want in exchange for a fortune?”

It wasn’t, but the rest seemed like a hard sell.

“No.”

He raised a brow in question.

“Finish me first, President Snow, then I’ll tell you.”

He shook his head, smile growing even wider. He disappeared from my view as my panties were tugged to the side. Hot breath grazed my exposed sex. An impatient whine slipped from my throat, and then his mouth was there, all there, placing a flurry of kisses all around before licking his tongue gently up my center.

“Fuck, Coryo please, just—“

His tongue circled my clit, finally giving me what I was dying for. My ass clenched, pushing myself into him harder. Hands wrapped around my thighs, roughly grabbing as he began flicking his tongue on my most sensitive part. I let myself go limp. He’d never gone down on me before, and it was like he’d been starving the entire time. He spat on my pussy and licked it into a dripping mess. I felt teeth gently nip at my clit, driving my pulse and breath to quicken.

He was moaning, saying words I couldn’t decipher because his mouth was preoccupied. My name was certainly one of them, though. The vibrations of his moaning mixed with the rhythmic press of his tongue was pushing me closer and closer. The pleasure only increased until I was teetering on the edge, trying to hold onto that feeling. His own noises were so loud I’d have expected he was the one getting serviced. And then his fingers slid into me and I couldn’t hold on. I was a spasming mess, whining as my pussy clenched around his fingers. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, feel it everywhere else.

When I opened my eyes, Coryo was fastening his pants, wiping wetness from his chin.

“Well?” He inquired, without looking my way.

I pushed myself up, didn’t want us to be too different in height. In fact, I think sitting on the table leant me an inch or two. On the floor below me, I saw a dark spot on the carpet. He’d cum a second time while buried in my cunt.

“Coryo, what’s that thing you always say, about Snow? About your family?”

His blue eyes fell on me, bright and intense.

“Snow lands on top.”

I quirked my head to the side. “I want that, too. So I’m not asking for release. I’m asking you to make me a Snow.”

The corners of his lips turned up but his brows creased, wary. He returned to the place between my legs, this time holding my face, searching it.

“You want me to marry you?”

And l knew exactly who he was, so I capitalized on the moment. “I want to belong to you, President Snow.”

The ocean in his eyes caught fire.

#fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #smut #💤🦪#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryo #pussy drunk #tbosas #friends to lovers #established relationship #angst #🌹

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fallingstqrss · 5 months

Text

what about us?

summary: you had always assumed coriolanus was your future. that was until a certain tribute from district came around.

a/n: i'm not sure how much i like this so i might rewrite it or edit it later but i felt like writing and i wanted to post something. so i hope you guys like it! <3

warnings: idk really if i forget any please tell me. just coriolanus like actually being nice?

Around the Academy, many knew Coriolanus Snow as someone driven purely by ambition, someone who inspired insecurity and tension among many of his classmates. Yet, to you, he had always just been Coriolanus, a boy you'd known since you both were children, someone who you'd give anything for.

Ever since the end of the war you and Coriolanus had been inseparable. He was your best friend. However, that blossomed into something more when the two of you started the Academy. As soon as you and Coriolanus started dating you knew he was the one for you, you couldn't picture yourself being with anyone else.

With the Plinth Prize announcement looming rumors of his stern demeanor circulated. However, in your eyes, Coriolanus remained the ever-constant presence of kindness to support you throughout all your highs and lows.

You could almost sense the tension that grew in the air the with announcement of the Plinth Prize looming. Coriolanus, usually the picture of composure, seemed on the verge of unraveling under the weight of his expectations for himself. You could tell his nights were spent sleepless and days were consumed by worries about his grades, the Plinth Prize hanging over him like an oppressive cloud.

You understood this event's significance and the importance of the prize to Coriolanus. The sacrifice of time spent together was one of your last concerns compared to the challenges presented to him.

However, the day had finally come. It was now the day they announced who had won the Plinth Prize.

As you walked into the hall you found Coriolanus, amidst a sea of your peers. Coriolanus couldn't see you, his back turned. However, as you approached, taking his hand into yours, you were greeted by him with a smile, him squeezing your hand in silent gratitude. Your presence offers a momentary respite from the relentless pressures that bore down on him.

But, the two of you didn't have time to say much, as music sounded throughout the hall, signaling the beginning of the reaping. You took your place a couple of seats behind Coriolanus, placing a kiss on his cheek before separating from him.

The Dean's voice echoed throughout the hall, outlining the new conditions for the Plinth Prize. You watched Coriolanus, sensing his tension from the announcement. Sensing his realization, the realization that his future was dependent upon the outcome of the Hunger Games.

Tensions reached their peak as the reaping continued, district after district being assigned. Coriolanus' name remained uncalled until the 12th district. You felt bad for Coriolanus watching as an emaciated girl in a rainbow dress walked onto the stage.

You shared in Coriolanus' disappointment, you felt how big of a burden this was to him. However, the atmosphere drastically shifted when this girl dropped a snake down one of the girls in the audience. Coriolanus shot up from his seat, eyes fixated on the screen.

You watched him, your own emotions in a whirlwind. The twist left everyone in shock but Coriolanus' reaction hinted at something else, something deeper. Noticing this sent a pang through your heart, the way he smiled at the girl, watching her with a sort of amazement as she began singing. You felt something that could only be described as jealousy.

This was a new feeling for you. There had been times when other girls had hit on Coriolanus. But, you had never had a reason to be jealous, Coriolanus had always remained loyal to you. However, for some reason, this felt different to you.

Following the end of the ceremony, your classmates began to speak amongst themselves but you knew you had to get out of there, these emotions being too much to bear in the midst of you classmates. You needed space, making a hasty exit through the back door.

Coriolanus, of course, noticed your departure, pausing his conversation with those around him to follow after you. Your shift in demeanor was obvious to him.

Outside, the breeze offered a momentary break from the tense atmosphere in the hall. You took quick steps, the need for solitude guiding you. Coriolanus, determined not to lost sight of you, caught up to you and closed the distance.

His hand closed around your wrist, gently turning you to face him. Concern was etched onto his features as he pushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

You stood there, suddenly being faced with an internal debate. The silence stretched between the two of you, Coriolanus' furrowed eyebrows revealed his growing concern. Ultimately, you decided to shield Coriolanus from the petty feelings of jealousy that gnawed at you.

"Nothing, I just don't feel well. I'm just gonna head home," You assured him, summoning a smile to mask the turmoil within you. Coriolanus, however, wasn't very easily convinced.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?" He pressed, the concern in his voice undeniable.

"No, I'll be okay. Just go work on your mentoring abilities," you insisted, offering a quick, reassuring peck on his lips before turning away. As you walked away, the faint echo of concern lingered in Coriolanus's eyes, but you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the trivial pangs of jealousy that wrestled within you.

Things between you and Coriolanus had been okay since the reaping. You had been continually growing more and more jealous of his tribute, who you came to know as Lucy Gray, the Songbird. However, you put your feelings on the back-burner, reminding yourself that this was for Coriolanus. However, your feelings came to a head when you heard about a particularly nasty rumor from on of your classmates Festus.

It was the day of the Hunger Games, the day that the tributes went into the arena. Festus had approached you before the games started, pulling you into a quiet corner.

"Y/n, there's something I have to tell you." Festus spoke, his seriousness concerned you, nervousness growing within you as you questioned him.

"What is it, Festus? What happened?"

"It's about Coriolanus," Festus spoke, you felt your heart drop. You had a feeling that news like this was coming but you couldn't bear to accept it as truth. "I saw him and Lucy Gray last night, at the zoo. They kissed," Festus spoke quickly, hoping to deliver the knews as fast as possible.

The blow hit you like a sledgehammer, shattering the fragile façade of composure you had clung to. The news of Coriolanus and Lucy Gray, the Songbird, sharing an intimate moment at the zoo cut through you with a sharpness that left you breathless.

You fought against the denial that arose in you. This was your Coriolanus, he would never betray you. However, things have been different lately. He'd been spending more and more time with Lucy Gray. The shock immobilized you for a moment, leaving you in a disorienting fog. The world around you seemed to warp and twist as you grappled with the harsh reality that Festus presented.

"He wouldn't do that to me," you whispered to yourself, a feeble attempt to convince yourself that this was a misunderstanding. Yet, Festus's words lingered, a relentless truth that threatened to unravel the foundation of trust you had built with Coriolanus.

Your steps faltered as you re-entered the main area, a numbness settling over you. The buzz of conversations around you became an indistinct hum, drowned out by the storm of emotions brewing within. The other seniors, talk amongst themselves in the stands.

You found a seat among them, sinking into it as if the weight of the revelation bore down on your shoulders. Tears welled up, blurring your vision as you fought to hold them back, even as your emotions threatened to break through. The haze of disbelief and betrayal clouded your thoughts, leaving you adrift in a sea of confusion and heartache.

However, the sight of Coriolanus in the front of the room, standing among the mentors, was a fresh stab to your wounded heart. The pain intensified as you realized you couldn't bear to watch him mentor Lucy Gray from his computer, knowing the betrayal that had transpired between them.

As you hurried up the stairs and out of the door, Coriolanus noticed your swift departure. He called after you, a note of desperation in his voice. Ignoring his pleas, you didn't allow the tears to fall until you were safely outside, the cool air providing a stark contrast to the turmoil within.

"Y/n! Y/n, what happened?" Coriolanus's voice echoed behind you, the urgency in his steps matching the acceleration of your own. He caught up to you quickly, positioning himself in front of you to halt your retreat. The tears that stained your cheeks didn't escape his notice, and a pang of remorse struck his heart at the sight of your pain.

"You know, Coriolanus. You know what you did," you managed to say, your words carrying a weight of hurt and betrayal. In your distressed state, you threw a punch at his chest, a futile attempt to channel the frustration and anguish within you. However, Coriolanus, standing firm, felt the impact but remained unyielding.

"No, Y/n, tell me, please. What did I do?" Coriolanus pleaded, genuine confusion etched across his face. The realization that something had gone terribly wrong dawned on him, but the specifics eluded him. The raw vulnerability in your tear-filled eyes, the pain reflected in your every gesture, sparked a pang of guilt within him. He desperately sought answers, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in your emotions.

"You and Lucy Gray, at the zoo last night." You responded. The hurt in your eyes was palpable as you confronted Coriolanus with the words of Festus. Coriolanus' confusion mirrored your own as he took a step forward, a gesture of comfort that you skillfully evaded. The revelation hung heavy in the air, a tense pause that finally broke as you accused him of kissing Lucy Gray.

"What? What about me and Lucy Gray?" he questioned, he seemed genuinely confused, which threw you off, but you were staying true to the information provided by Festus.

"You two kissed, Festus told me." You responded.

"Y/n," he sighed, "Lucy Gray and I were just talking about strategies. I'll admit we were close, but it was just because I didn't want the other tributes to hear. She leaned in but I pulled away, Festus might have left before I did. Trust me I told her there was only one woman in my life." Coriolanus explained, his heart pained at the fact that you believed he would ever cheat on you.

"So you and Lucy Gray didn't kiss?" you inquired, a yearning for reassurance in your voice. Coriolanus's response was swift and sincere, a promise that cut through the doubt and uncertainty.

"No, and I never would. I'd never do that to you. I love you, Y/n, you're the only one I want to be with," he affirmed, closing the distance and bringing a hand to cup your cheek. The touch wiped away the lingering traces of tears, and his words began to mend the fractures of trust.

As realization dawned, you spoke words weighed with guilt and remorse. "I'm sorry, Corio. I shouldn't have believed Festus. I should've just talked to you," you admitted, your gaze falling to the ground. Coriolanus gently lifted your chin, ensuring your eyes met his.

"No, I've been so distant recently with the games I've given you few reasons to trust me. But, believe me, as soon as these games are over, and I win the Plinth Prize, I'm going to spend the rest of our lives making it up to you," Coriolanus declared, attempting to lighten the atmosphere with a touch of humor. Your laughter, a melody that resonated with forgiveness, filled the space. Your hear swelled as Coriolanus mentioned the potential for a life together.

Seizing the moment, Coriolanus leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The warmth of reconciliation enveloped you, and the weight of doubt lifted. In that kiss, you felt the promise of a renewed connection, a shared future that transcended the shadows of misunderstanding. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the unspoken vow to navigate the challenges ahead together.

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