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slaymitchabernathy · 19 hours

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The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

| this story was inspired by the songs "How Did It End?" & "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" by Taylor Swift |

| a companion to 'Pretty' |

Coriolanus holds the single rose in his hand with such vice that the stem has gone limp.

He’s been to enough funerals to know how this goes, what’s expected of him. He attended his little sister’s funeral.

“I’m going to see your sister.”

Those words play over and over in his head while the officiant drones on and on about what an exemplary citizen Soarynn Snow was.

Was any of it true? Any of the time they spent together?

He thinks about all the time he spent with Soarynn. Seven years of life with her. He remembers the day he found out she was ticklish. He tickled her just to hear her laugh, to hear genuine happiness from her. She always seemed so miserable with him even though he’d given her everything she could ever dream of.

Coriolanus thought he had a good grasp on grief. He lived through the war, after all, the Dark Days, and even managed to come out on top. He had the name, the wife, the child. Now two of those are gone.

He had found it extremely difficult to fathom the loss of his own child, his firstborn son. It just didn't seem like something that could happen to him, not when he was on top of the world. Not when they had the nursery all ready, the baby clothes hanging in the closet, the stuffed animals lining the shelves. Soarynn had thrown herself into preparing their son's nursery and transformed the empty space into a warm, loving environment.

They had been so close. So close. But there was a complication, undetected until it was too late and suddenly Coriolanus was receiving phone calls left and right telling him that his wife was found unconscious on their library floor in a pool of her own blood.

Why didn't she call him?

It was a question that plagued his mind as the doctor asked him who they should attempt to save, his son, or his wife.

He chose his wife of course.

Being a father of a dead child was bad enough, but to be a widowed man at such a young age? No. Coriolanus couldn't afford that. He knew their son wouldn't make it into the world alive and if he did then it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Another thing he couldn't afford was having a son who would undoubtedly be the laughingstock of Panem. With the possibility of disfigurements and mental lapses, it was easy for Coriolanus to make the call.

He knew it would devastate Soarynn beyond belief. As much as it terrified her, he knew she wanted to be a mother. She got pregnant rather quickly after their wedding, allowing Coriolanus to confirm once again that Soarynn was of value to him and their family.

He stood out in the hospital hall as they attempted to save his wife. He only caught a small glimpse of them cutting her open before he looked away. He couldn't watch. Then, his son was born.

He didn't make a sound. Stillborns don't cry.

They stitched her up and that was that. One dead child, and one grieving wife.

Coriolanus hadn't known what to do, what to say. Sure, he could be comforting when he needed to be, like when Soarynn had one of her little breakdowns after they had sex. But he was always prepared for those.

How do you prepare for the death of your firstborn child?

So he hadn't said anything, left her to talk with the doctor, and watched the nurses wheel in their dead child in his bassinet for Soarynn to hold for the first and last time. In a way, he was impressed that she even had the strength to do so. He never wanted to hold their son, to see a painful reminder of what could have been.

His curiosity had gotten the best of him once he joined Soarynn's side again, once he saw the pain and sorrow in her eyes. How empty her gaze was.

"What did he look like?" He had asked her, resting a hand on her head.

"He looked like a Snow," she had answered.

And that had been good enough for him.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus had however been prepared for the aftermath of their son's death. Only because he knew what it was like, to lose an infant due to unforeseen circumstances. When his baby sister died, his parents were quick to move past it. He felt it was better that way, no need to linger in the past when there was a bright future ahead of them. They could have another child. He'd confirmed that with the doctor before they left. Soarynn wasn't left barren and unable to give him more children and she certainly would give him children in due time.

They'd arrange a small funeral, grieve privately, and more forward publicly. Simple as that. He knew his wife could get sentimental, especially over stupid, little things like books and things of that nature. But he didn't need her to get caught up on what could have been.

He expected them to move on.

He didn't expect Soarynn to make a scene in front of their close family and friends before storming out of the penthouse, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Coriolanus had been furious, absolutely furious with her behavior. He wasn't the one who lost their child. He did everything right, everything by the books and still they lost him. It. They lost it.

Then she lost it.

Coriolanus knew where to go, to find her. She went home. He could give her whatever she wanted, fill their penthouse with all her favorite things but it still wouldn't be enough for Soarynn.

Glen had been upset, and understandably so. Coriolanus couldn't imagine the state that Soarynn showed up in and without their child on top of all that. But he was quick to smooth things over, win Glen over once again, and promised to come back in two days to collect Soarynn.

He got a phone call the next morning. He'd been surrounded by family and friends, namely the Creeds and Clemensia who all watched silently as Coriolanus was delivered the news that bore the death of his wife.

"Drowned in the bathtub."

That's what Glen mumbled before hanging up.

Coriolanus didn't know what to say, what to do. How do you drown in the bathtub? He knew enough to know that it had to be done on purpose. This was no accident. Soarynn killed herself.

He got a wide array of reactions when he shared the news. Most were filled with tears and condolences. It felt so strange to him to know that Soarynn wasn't in their room, curled up under the covers with her cat and a book.

She wasn't in the library, sitting in his favorite chair while she looked through old photo albums.

She was gone. How strange to be gone. To end your own life.

He had two funerals to plan now.

He'd only said a few words before disappearing into his room, "We'll tell no one except all of our friends." As far as everyone else was concerned, she died during the miscarriage. Women die all the time giving birth. What makes Soarynn so special?

But she had been special. Hadn't she? She'd been kind, and caring, she would've been a good mother. He'd never know how it would've ended.

But he couldn’t help himself from wondering how it all ended.

Were there signs? Had she cried out for help?

He tore their bedroom apart looking for clues, for something to hold onto, to tie him to her. After hours of endless searching, he finally came across a book he had never seen before, tucked away in their closet in an old shoe box. He’d held the small book in his hands, simply staring at it before he finally gained the courage to open it.

Her diary.

He hung me on his wall. Not literally but it felt like it. It always feels like I’m some animal pelt when he makes me take those pills. Sometimes I wish I were an animal pelt. At least I’d be dead.

It was no wonder she kept this so hidden from him. He would’ve been livid if he found this when she was still alive. How strange to think that Soarynn wasn’t alive anymore. He would never be able to smell the sweet scent of vanilla again without thinking of the girl who sat in front of him in class that year. Little did she know that choosing that seat would cost her life.

He kept reading. There were so many entries, all devastating in their own way.

I wish I could run away. But I can’t, he trapped me. We’re having a baby in eight months. Coriolanus thinks it’ll be a boy, I hope so too for his sake. I don’t think he’d like a girl. Everyone has been congratulating me on the news but they do that a lot. Congratulate me. On the wedding, on the penthouse, on our relationship. If only they knew. He shows me off, loves to do it. I hate it. I hate it here.

He flipped to the end of the diary, not in the mood for her whining and nagging. The last entry was so short, but the way it was written made Coriolanus feel as if his throat was tightening up. It was like she knew he’d find her diary, would read it, would go to the last entry. She sounded so angry.

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? In fifty years will this be declassified? And you’ll confess why you did it. And I’ll say, “Good riddance.” Cause it wasn’t sexy once it wasn’t forbidden. I would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. And you deserve prison, but you won’t get time. You kicked out my stage lights, but you’re still performing. In plain sight you hit. But you are what you did. And I’ll forget you but I’ll never forgive. The smallest man who ever lived.

At six-foot-two and at the top of the world, Coriolanus Snow had never felt so small. And for the first time in a very long time, much like his wife, he broke down.

꧁ ꧂

"If anyone would like to share a memory or a few kind words, please do so now," the officiant says, somberly looking into the massive crowd of Capitol elites who have gathered to honor and mourn the death of Soarynn Snow and her stillborn child.

Coriolanus stares down at the ground, at her coffin. It's black and sleek with roses engraved around it. The proper casket for the wife of a Snow. A smaller one sits next to hers. Their sons.

Coriolanus squeezes the white rose in his hand a little tighter as someone walks up to the front, stepping onto the podium.

"Miss Soarynn was a fine Capitol lady."

Coriolanus looks up to see the doorman to their apartment standing at the microphone, "She always greeted me with a smile, asked how my day was going. She even brought me cookies one day, it...it was my birthday. She was a kind woman and my heart goes out to you Mr. Snow, your wife was a lovely lady."

Coriolanus manages to give the doorman a tight-lipped smile. It's hard to smile with that letter playing over and over in his head, those words haunting him now. Were they all watching him now?

His wife, his son, his sister, his mother-in-law?

He wasn't given much notice once the letter arrived on his doorstep. Glen Nightingale all but stormed into the penthouse, collecting every memory of Soarynn, including the cat. The look Glen had given him was all Coriioanus needed to know that Soarynn had told him everything. Or at least something.

He could feel the hatred radiating off of Glen as they stood next to each other.

"Soarynn Nightingale was too good for this world."

Coriolanus doesn't need to look up to know that Sejanus Plinth has taken to the microphone. "She was too gentle, too kind and trusting and that trust was taken advantage of over and over again by someone she blindly trusted. I hope that she and her son can find rest in the afterlife."

A few more people go up to speak, all noting how kind Soarynn was, how beautiful and gentle that girl was.

Was, was, was.

Eventually, Coriolanus is ushered to the podium. He knows he has to give out somewhat of a statement, he can see all the news outlets at the back of the crowd, eager to hear about the tragic events that have suddenly befallen the Snow family.

He clears his throat before speaking, "My gratitude extends to each and every one of you who has attended the funeral of my wife and son today. My wife was loved by many, my son never got the chance to be loved."

He knows that's not true. Soarynn loved their son before he was born.

"We were blind to unforeseen circumstances. My wife's pregnancy was complicated and in the end, led to a tragic and fatal miscarriage that took the lives of the two people who meant the most to me in the world."

Whispers can be heard throughout the crowd. Some people believe him. Coriolanus has always been good at playing for the cameras, telling people what they want to hear. Other whispers are doubtful of his love for Soarynn and their son.

And he has Glen Nightingale to thank for that. Three days after her death, it came out that Sorynn had filed for divorce. Claiming that she was the victim of domestic abuse, sexual violence, and coercion, and numerous amounts of other accusations that did nothing but taint his reputation.

As if her death wasn't hard enough, Coriolanus now has people coming at him left and right, questioning him and his marriage. His father advised him to keep his head down, to deny such claims, and to continue to share his love and adoration for Soarynn.

He just doesn't know if he has any to give.

"I loved my wife. She was kind and generous, she was a devoted woman who was loyal to her family and her country. She would want us to celebrate her life and our sons, not mourn it."

There, he's told people what they want to hear, and now, he's ready to hear what he wants to hear.

꧁ ꧂

The reception dinner is quiet for the most part, only small conversations take place. Many people have come up to Glen to give their condolences. One wife and one daughter gone. Coriolanus fears that he can now relate to Glen on that level and he so badly wishes that he didn't.

"Do you think you'll ever remarry?"

Coriolanus looks to his left to find Livia Cardew addressing him, her eyes pinning him down. A bit of an inappropriate question to ask at a funeral, especially his wife's funeral but Coriolanus will be damned if he comes off as unpolite by ignoring her question.

"I think right now I need to focus on putting the pieces back together," he answers, ignoring the glare that Glen sends his way.

Livia hums and turns back to her dinner leaving them in another uncomfortable silence. Soarynn certainly left a mess behind for him to clean up. Not only her death but now legal issues as well. What a selfish thing to do.

꧁ ꧂

They opted to leave the casket open for those who wanted a moment alone with Soarynn before they buried her six feet in the ground. Coriolanus had declined to do the same with his son. No one would ever know what he looked like, what he could have looked like. What could have been.

Many people go up to Soarynn, he watches them whisper words they probably don't mean. He doubts most people really knew her. He barely did himself it seems. Eventually, he gathers the courage to see his wife one last time. At least her death wasn't horrendous and she didn't slip her wrists open along with her face. She looks like she's sleeping.

But she'll never wake up.

He leans down until it's just the two of them, not a word between them. She smells like vanilla. Her skin is pale, it lacks the normal tan hue she always had.

"You left me," he whispers, "left me to deal with this mess."

Soarynn doesn't respond.

"You know, I keep going over it in my head. What if I never noticed you? Never took interest in you? Would my life be this fucked if we never met? Do you know Soarynn? Do you know how different things would've been for the both of us? if you're listening from Heaven do me a favor and ask someone up there if they can see, if they can see what it would look like if our paths never crossed. And if they can find something, somewhere where you never ruined my fucking life, you ask them something for me, okay?"

Coriolanus has to force himself to take a deep breath as he whispers to his wife, berating her from the grave.

"How did it end?"

He straightens up, giving Soarynn one last look. She was fun, quiet, and obedient for the most part. She tried to be good for him, and he had to give her credit for that.

Her hair has been done in curls, her makeup is light and her lips are a soft pink even though he knows that under all that makeup she's pale and her lips are blue.

She looks so pretty.

| Final Part |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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posionhaze · 1 day

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dollhouse

❥ summary: having to work with an old flame doesn’t exactly go to plan

pairing: finnick odair x fem! victor reader

warnings: brief mentions of prostitution | dark themes | slight toxic-obsessive behavior | some fluff!!

genre: I don’t even know

❥ words: 2k

please read at the end of the fic for more information 🫶

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It hadn’t always been so tense between you and Finnick.

You were friends before his games- and before yours. You would have been the youngest victor, just a year younger than him- but of course he got to it first.

After he came back he was different, you expected that- but he had put up a front.

He had never told you what actually happened. What happened with Snow. You found out later- you witnessed it.

With that being said, you were reaped. Mags and Finnick himself mentored you.

Finnick never told you but he wished that you would’ve died in that arena. He knew your fate would be the same as his. Even at the age of 15 during your games, he knew.

He knew how sick Snow was.

You had made it out, purely based on hiding and stealth. You did it.

It took days, 28 to be exact.

They both thought you would’ve died off either by starvation or hypothermia.

You didn’t- you almost did.

You could recall the snow surrounding you, really almost choking you.

The arena was an iceland- cold and white, nothing to it.

You remember after your victory tour Snow wanted to meet with you.

You wished you had died in that arena.

Finnick remembers when you came back to the victors village- you hadn’t spoken to him or even looked at him.

That day you were never the same- like someone took your soul, and in a sense- Snow did. He did much more than that.

Three years passed, you and Finnick had brief interactions when needed.

He was the Capitols Darling and you the Capitols Doll.

Your eyes widened- why was Finnick here?

You were at a Capitol clients party as his side piece for the night- rather his doll. He was actually a regular, he wasn’t that bad considering the extent of the situation.

You didn’t understand why Finnick was there, he could only have been invited by your client…

“Oh! And I’m sure you know Y/n!” Your client says with a wide smile, arm wrapped around your waist.

You were wearing an extremely uncomfortable dress, not that it was bulky or unnecessary- no it was quite the opposite.

Thin and revealing, a baby pink mixed with seafoam green, clients request.

Finnick had a lady at his side, wearing an equally revealing and stupid outfit.

“Of course..she’s a doll..” Finnick replies with his charming grin- you knew it was simply an act. He reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to it.

You saw the flash of realization in his eyes- you both had the same fate, the one he tried to hide you from.

You give him a sweet smile, letting out a giggle at his words, “You flatter me Finnick!”. Those words never felt more sour coming out of your mouth.

After that night you both grew close again.

You were often in his arms at night, both wanting a sense of normalcy, just for a few hours.

And for a bit it did feel normal, and at some point it felt real.

It was real, you both loved each other. You couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened but you guys ended up in something more than a friendship but never said it out loud.

Now of course you couldn’t tell anyone- not even Mags.

But somehow Snow found out, you weren’t sure how but he did.

Two years of peace disturbed.

Now you figured Snow had only talked to you- only threatened you.

He would’ve killed Finnick if you didn’t comply.

You begged him not to hurt Finnick. For Finnick you sacrificed what was left of you.

When you had gotten back to victor's village, you had ended it with Finnick. That day you broke his heart. Yours was already broken by Snow- much of you was.

You and Finnick stopped talking. Well you did, he didn’t stop.

He was insufferable, petty, pathetic but most of all someone you still loved.

That’s what you hated. That you couldn’t move on.

So it was a year of no contact for you, not playing into whatever game he was playing.

Not until the 73rd hunger games. Yourself 21, Finnick 22.

You both were chosen to mentor district 4. You didn’t know why- well you had a guess.

You and Finnick had two great tributes, a boy named Bay and a girl named Alana.

Bay was shy, a soft spoken teenager who just wanted to go home- while Alana knew what she was up against, she was more insightful- observant.

Alana and Bay knew each other, not very well but close enough to not hate each other.

“Y’know..you can’t spend all this time ignoring me, doll” Finnick says, looking at you from across the table.

It was the second day at the penthouse, you hadn’t spoken to Finnick since the reaping or during the train ride, you didn’t bother.

“Yes I can” You state simply, briefly glancing up at his beautiful sea green eyes. But you quickly avert your eyes, suddenly taking an interest in the glass of scotch you had been “nursing”.

“Really now?” He says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “And do you think that’s how an actual conversation works?” His voice is still playful, but he can’t help his curiosity.

Why were you ignoring his presence, why was it so easy for you to do after everything?

You wish you could tell him, let him in again, but you couldn’t. It would have pushed you over the edge, the one you were so close to falling off of.

It was painful having to keep up your capitol act, but you had to. Over and over again, night after night, party after party.

It was that- or have Finnick killed.

“Yeah- I do” You say with a tight lipped smile, focusing on the ice slowly melting in the liquor you barely touched.

“Y/n, you can at least attempt to hide the disdain, the fake smile, and the eyes that are screaming to run straight for the hills.”

Finnick can’t help but notice how you seem to act as if you never loved him, never cared. In that moment his face softens, a rare sight.

“Oh and, let’s not forget the drinks you hardly drink!” He teases a bit, leaning back in his seat. There was the Finnick you knew- the one who would pick and prod until nothing was left.

“You are such a pain” You say with a roll of your eyes, fighting back the urge to punch him in the face- really you would never do that, but it would feel nice to, at least in this moment.

“Yeah well it’s my speciality!” He smiles, leaning over the table as he takes the glass out of your hand- he finishes what is left in one gulp, putting the glass down before leaning back in the chair.

He’s still looking at you, clearly amused by how you act- you can’t help but wonder if it all is an act.

“Will you stop staring?” You grumble out, irritation clear on your face and tone.

“Only when you look at me.” He replies, leaning on his elbows, propping his chin up on fist.

He’s staring you down, he wants that reaction. It’ll tell him everything he needs to know.

And eventually you look at him, your eyes look dull and tired. Your mouth is a straight line.

You notice how his smile has disappeared- he studies you closely, like you did all those years ago- wondering what’s actually behind your eyes.

For the first time in a while you take in his features, his golden-bronze hair, and those sea green eyes.

Oh how you love those eyes.

You let out an awkward cough, breaking eye contact after a moment, “Bay and Alana seem good..I think Alana has a good chance of making it out..” You say, trying to distract Finnick.

“You think so?” Finnick says almost in a hum of approval, a smirk etched on his face.

Your distraction was futile, Finnick is stubborn- he’d get the truth out of you tonight.

He nods, “Bay, I can tell he’s a sweetie, a quiet one- but I think he’ll surprise us. Alanna though! Oh I’m putting my money on her- we’ll see her in that arena.” Finnick takes his eyes off of you for a moment, “You should help them with the training more, doll.”

“Stop Finnick- stop whatever it is you’re doing” You say, the tone of his voice- it disgusted you.

That look, his tone, why does he keep using it on you?

“Aw am I hurting your feelings? I’m so very sorry, doll.” There’s that damn smirk again, how did he not see the look on your face.

It was as if he was teasing you, enjoying the slight torture he was bringing on.

“I just want you to tell me those secrets you’ve been hiding..”

Your eyes flick up to meet his, “Drop it Finnick”

“No.” He replies, his voice sharp and stern- he wasn’t going to let you brush him off.

He reaches for your hand, your skin so soft under his fingers, your hand so perfect under his.

He brings it up to his mouth, and kisses one of your knuckles, “Just talk to me…please…”

But you could still feel his smirk.

You’re quick to pull your hand from his grasp, a sick feeling forming in your stomach.

“I’m going to sleep” You mutter out, leaving your seat and the table, going to your room in the penthouse.

“Damn it..” He mumbles, leaning back into his chair.

He couldn’t leave it alone, he just couldn’t.

He wouldn’t let himself rest either, getting up and walking towards your room- he knew you wouldn’t appreciate it.

He stands outside your door for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts.

Before eventually opening the door and inviting himself in.

“Go away Finnick..” You mutter out, not even having to turn and look to see who it is.

“No.” He says in a stern voice, but there’s hesitation in it.

“I’m not leaving until we talk.” His voice softens as he takes a step forward, “Doll, don’t do this…”

“Finnick..” You say, pausing momentarily. Maybe it was time to let him in again?

“I can’t- I can’t do this right now..” You finish.

“Do what, Y/n?” He steps forward again, closing the distance between you and him- his hands rest on the sides of your hips, chest against your back.

You can feel his breath against your neck, your muscles tense up but he just waits for your reply.

“Just talk to me, please. Let me in, doll.”

“Snow had found out about us..” You say blankly, “He talked to me, threatened your life..he didn’t want us together..because we were so- so useful to him..”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I thought it would be better to just end it” You add on.

Your words didn’t come to a surprise, he knew Snow would find out eventually.

He’s silent for a moment, before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close against him- he doesn’t care how tired you are.

You could feel the anger and rage building inside of him, towards Snow.

Finnick moves you in his arms, kissing your forehead before looking right in your eyes, “I still don’t understand why you never just talked to me about it…”

“I was scared he’d do something to you Finn..” You mutter out softly.

“I’m not that fragile, doll.” His lips brush against your temple, he can tell that you’re tired.

“I would’ve been fine, you know that right…”

You honestly didn’t know what to say, what could you?

“I’m sorry Finnick- I’m tired..I- I need sleep..” You say, pulling away from him. You wouldn’t let yourself go back, why wouldn’t you?

“This isn’t a good time....” You add on, averting your eyes again from him.

His grip tightens on your hips slightly- he can tell you’re pulling away from him yet again- and it’s driving him mad.

You’re refusing to let him in completely, refusing to let him love you.

“And I’m telling you- we’ll talk about this now.” He’s persistent, unwilling to be denied.

“Finnick..we’ll talk after the games, after this is done” You say, voice soft yet stern.

Your eyes meet his, both of you don’t say anything for a moment.

“Fine”

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❥ notes: hi!! so this is my first fic on this blog- I want to say I’ve written fan fiction before, so I’m not new- but I’m not the greatest either! I’m new to the hg fandom, so bear with me if my work isn’t accurate or the best! I will be making a masterlist of who I will write for soon!!

❥ uploads certainly won’t be frequent or consistent- I’m sorry to say. I do have an old blog, which I won’t be mentioning. that blog negatively impacted my mental health so I wanted a fresh start with a new fandom and blog :))

❥ once again- I am new so sorry if this isn’t accurate or not the best!! I’d love for any comments or suggestions! I was scared to post this, mostly because of backlash but I hope this was good!! ☺️

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