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number-onekidqueen · 1 year

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𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐞

Sophie x Hort

Heartbroken fluff

Warnings: Mentions of underage alcohol consumption, breakdown, numbness, crying.

Clarissa Dovey impatiently drummed her fingernails on the edge of her desk, waiting.

Surrounding her the entire faculty of the School for Good and Evil mirrored her movements, fidgeting, scratching and tapping their feet, waiting to free themselves from her cramped office.

Well, almost the entire faculty.

Only one, certain blonde-haired professor, was absent.

"The child has time to plan Lunchtime Lectures, a self-centred musical, even plan to "makeover" the School for Evil's castle but she doesn't have time to make it to her own meeting. Pathetic, that's what it is." Professor Dovey muttered under her breath.

After fifteen more minutes, Dovey's calm facade cracked.

"Right. Well, seeming as Sophie - sorry Dean Sophie - cannot make it to her own meeting, I, as her fellow Dean declare this meeting adjourned."

Mutters of relief echoed across her office as the professors exited the room.

Every professor but one went to their rooms with a will to sleep, tired from the days events and reassured that Sophie was perfectly fine. Most likely bathing in a tub of camel milk, in one of her designer, marble-floor bathrooms, slathering a cucumber mask over her face and sipping carrot soda, completely forgetting her commitments and succumbing to relaxation.

Only one professor went to their room, unnerved and slightly worried, his hands running through his hair.

Sophie, despite her nature to dismiss important facts, and put herself above everything, surprisingly never missed professors meetings, not even once.

But despite the odd situation, Hort reassured himself that one of her new face lavender mask sets probably arrived, and she forgot all else.

He began preparing for sleep, having a shower, brushing his teeth, and slipping on a comfortable shirt with a bright green frog on it, before freezing.

Something hit him.

The professors meeting had been about the results of the vote for whether the School for Evil should have an annual No Ball if they won the Trial by Tale.

Sophie would never have missed that! Something terrible must have happened.

Rushing out of his room, he hurriedly closed the door and began his ascent up the tower stairs to the bridge leading to the Schoolmaster's - or rather Sophie's - Tower.

What had happened to her? Had someone kidnapped her? Was she injured? Was she okay?

Adrenaline pumped through his body, making him go faster and faster. In seconds, he was at the edge of the bridge and sprinting across it to the door of the tower.

He pounded on it, yelling Sophie's name, his face crinkling with concern.

"Hort, go away." A weak voice said in reply.

Hort blanched.

That voice.... that voice couldn't be Sophie. Sophie's voice always was full of confidence and disdain when he talked to her. And that voice was pathetic.

It sounded like she had no hope for herself and that she'd just, given up. That couldn't be. Sophie just wasn't like that.

Hoping for the best, Hort turned the knob and witnessed a sight that made his heart stop.

It was Sophie.

But not the one that he knew.

Hair was plastered to her face, the rest of it flying in all directions. Black mascara dripping down her face and her lips were a smudged mess of pink.

She was simply lying there, gazing at the roof and sniffing softly, while hugging her silk-clad self tightly.

Beside her a bottle of expensive-looking Rosé lay empty, next to an open letter.

"Are you ok?" Hort asked gently, cursing himself he couldn't ask a question with a less obvious answer.

"Hort, what do you honestly think, judging by my appearance?" Sophie said dryly.

Hort bit his lip, and lowered himself to her level, sitting down beside her.

"Umm... What's wrong?"

Sophie sighed, rolling over, and faced the wall.

"Do you know what day it is today, Hort?"

"A Wednesday."

"Apart from that, Hort. What's the date?"

Hort racked his memory, vaguely remembering a student reminding him of it today.

"It's November twelfth."

"Do you know what that means?"

For the second time that night, an obvious fact hit Hort. How could he have forgotten? It was Sophie's birthday and he hadn't got her a thing!

"Umm... well, yeah, it's your birthday. But, uh, what happened?"

Sophie sat up and turned to face him with a fierce expression on her face.

"Well for starters, nobody remembered. Don't look at me with that innocent look Hort, even you forgot. That's probably what surprised me most," She began, stating the last bit softly and sadly.

Hort flushed with guilt.

"But to top things off even more, Agatha, Agatha, my best friend, my twin sister hasn't written me for six months, today.

"I understand and sympathise with her that she hasn't got any time for daily letters, let alone weekly ones. I've had enough hustle and bustle as a Dean myself, and as a Queen I wonder she's got any time at all. The first two months I got it; she'd just arrived at Camelot, the Royal Rot was tracking her down, Teddy and her had an awful lot to do about the castle and roles to uphold that they weren't used to.

"The third and fourth months I was quite frustrated, but reassured myself with the sensationalised newspapers that they had a lot on their hands, lots of allegations to defend, the Wedding to plan, plus the continuous problem of Tedros not pulling Excalibur, etc, etc.

"But the fifth and sixth months I'd had it. I was tired of sympathising and being good and patient. My sister, best friend, twin, hadn't been talking to me for six months. Six months! I don't think I said anything wrong!

"And then today, on our birthday I came here early, feeling sad and worn out from the day, hoping, just hoping I'd see an envelope. An envelope from her. Was that too much to ask? But I never saw one. And we've always celebrated our birthday's together, even though they were separate dates. These last few years, we haven't had time for things like thoughtful presents and cards... but... but she always remembered. Always." Sophie broke into sobs, covering her mouth.

Hort awkwardly patted her shoulder and she lunged forward, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Oh Hort, I never thought that I would lose her. But it's too late now isn't it? I've lost her. Hort, I've lost her!" Sophie wailed.

Hort didn't have a clue what to do.

Princes usually were supposed to reassure, and whisper "sweet nothings" into their distressed damsel's ears.

But the problem was, that he wasn't a prince. Sophie wasn't a damsel in distress either.

She was just a heartbroken, slightly tipsy witch.

And frankly, Hort had no idea what reassuring things he could say about Agatha, because he didn't know if she was going to come back to Sophie! Girls! They had much too complex minds and reasons for doing things he didn't quite grip. So he decided to think of the most reassuring thing he could say, which in theory was quite comforting, but not quite what Sophie wanted.

"Well, I'm here for you, and, I'll stay if you need me... or let me..." Hort said his confidence faltering by the last few words.

Sophie let out a chuckle, with a sprinkle of mirth.

"You're always here, Hort, aren't you?" Sophie joked, half to herself.

Hort stiffened, hurt.

He pulled out of the embrace and stood up quickly.

"Sorry," He said "I'll go."

Sophie collected herself and grasped his arm, swaying slightly.

"I didn't mean it in that way!" She said hastily.

Hort turned.

"I meant that... well I meant that.... you're, you're always there for me, Hort and... I'm very grateful and well, Hort I pretend to dislike you and be all princessy and weird," She giggled then her face straightened "But really ... I... I really-"

"Yes?" Hort breathed, hope filling his eyes.

"I really-"

Squawk! Squawk! Boobeshwar began making a racket.

Sophie's eyes lit up.

"Oh! Perfect, those must be my Van Zacharin clothes arriving! Come on Hort, help me carry the boxes to my room!"

Hort groaned, cursing his luck and geese.

As he picked up boxes he felt gloominess soaking through him, but then smiled to himself as he saw Sophie beaming in excitement at all the clothes he carried in his arms as he ascended the staircase.

One day, he thought.

One day they'd be happy.

#school for good and evil #sge sophie #sge hort #sge #hophie #hort x sophie #sophie x hort #hort of bloodbrook #sophie of woods beyond #sophie of gavaldon #angst #qfg #quests for glory

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giuliettagaltieri · 2 months

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Shower of Gold

Pairing: Dad!Coriolanus Snow x Mom!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Mother

Warning: warming up to parenthood

Word Count: 2874

6 of 7

When Aurelius Hyperion Swansworth-Snow was born, Coriolanus’ world just got a whole lot bigger.

He never thought he could love another the same as he loved you. But he did.

Little Harper, as you would call him, looked exactly like his father. The same golden curls and piercing blue eyes. His cheeks were fat and pink as he babbled.

And just like his father, Little Harper loved you very much.

You have never been without Harper. To the point that it often puts a strain on the intimate relationship you had with your husband. But one pointed stare from you would let Coriolanus loosen his possessive hold on your waist, often looking like a kicked puppy as he sulks the entire night, sleeping with his back turned to you.

But with a wet kiss and a chubby hand slapping his cheek awake in the mornings, his brooding dissipates and he gladly accepts his little boy’s affections.

“Good morning, daddy.” You say as your son claps his hands excitedly.

Coriolanus blinks his eyes as he looks at you, the sleepy fog is yet to leave his head but it does not stop him from seeing just how beautiful you are. You are still in your sleeping gown, your hair disheveled, and your eyes still droop with sleepiness. He believes it was at moments like this when he loves you the most. When his mind is empty and your smiling face is the first thing that enters his head.

“Good morning.” He drawls and he turns to his son who was nibbling at his deltoid that was the size of the kid’s head. He looks at the string of saliva that webbed on his arm. “That’s unsanitary.”

You scoff at your husband, cooing at your baby the next second. “He just misses his daddy. Don’t you, Harper?”

Harper looks at you curiously, bringing his chubby fist to his mouth. You lay your head to Coriolanus’ chest as you coo at him. Harper was unsure what you were doing but the happiness on your face brought forth a toothless smile from him.

He receives a smooch to his cheek from you and absentmindedly, Coriolanus puts his large hands to your baby’s face.

Your baby’s eyes cross as he keeps his eyes on your husband’s enormous hand.

Before you can ask what he is doing, Coriolanus gently pushes him down to the pillow that supports his back.

You shriek in mortification, your baby blinks at the ceiling, not quite processing what has happened. You swat at your husband’s chest as you get up to help your son to sit back up.

“I am so sorry, baby. Daddy’s such a horrible man, isn’t he?” You coo to your baby who is yet unsure whether he should be laughing or crying. “Daddy, you bully!” You accuse him as you pat your baby’s leg gently.

He only looks at you blankly, making you sigh and lean down to plant a kiss to his awaiting lips. He always gets so cranky in the early mornings.

“Now, get up.” You say as you rub his chest. Coriolanus grunts as he gets out of bed, stretching like a cat as he yawns. He ruffles Harper’s blonde curls before leaving you to take a shower.

He was already halfway through his coffee when you arrived with Harper now freshly bathed.

Coriolanus looks at Harper as you place him on the high chair.

“We have a meeting today.” Coriolanus reminds you as he keeps his eyes trained on his son.

You nod. “Yes, I studied the report last night.”

“Harper?” He sips his coffee as he reads the recent reports about the new District 12 mayor.

You chuckle knowingly as you nuzzle your nose against Harper’s. “Little Harper’s coming with mommy, of course.” He giggled as his fingers were quick to grab at your clothes.

Coriolanus smiles in his seat after he stole a glance at you.

“One wail and he’s out.”

“Oh, honestly!” You have taken offense for your boy but Coriolanus challenges you with his own stern gaze. “So mean.” You mutter as you start feeding Harper with baby food.

Your husband puts the papers away and starts his breakfast. “I just did not want you to look unprofessional.”

“Corio?”

“Hm?”

“Shut up.”

His eyes narrow before he returns to his breakfast.

A scowl was painted on your face the entire breakfast and you refused to talk to him anymore. Responding with nods and silence to his attempt to start another conversation.

Coriolanus knows that he might have offended you deeply.

“Are you ready?” He asks as you wipe Harper’s face with the bib.

You respond by getting up and scooping your son in your arms, your chin raised as you carry yourself with elegance. The baby bag was waiting to be picked up by you in the corner but Coriolanus beats you to it.

He walks ahead of you, the baby bag slung on his shoulder and his briefcase on his other hand. You quietly follow him, not acknowledging him when he opens the doors for you, one leading out of your mansion and the other to your car.

Coriolanus waits by the backseat, just next to Harper’s car seat. He had to pick it personally. It was heavily padded, bulky enough to put you at ease, knowing that your baby will be protected should anything happen.

“I’ll strap him in.” He offers as he fixes the aviators resting on his nose as he looks past your head.

Coriolanus is a proud man, you understand this is his way of apologizing.

You kiss Harper’s nose and you place him in your husband’s secure hold.

In the meantime, you buckle yourself in the passenger seat.

Coriolanus soon joins you in front and he starts the car after securing his seatbelt.

The silence was loud, had it not been for Harper’s babbles, you would have been tempted to turn the radio on. You choose to review your itinerary for the day when a warm hand sneaks to your thigh and you feel Coriolanus’ thumb brushing it in a soothing manner.

“Apologize properly.” You quip.

“Y/N please.” He says tiredly.

“No. I want you to say you are sorry.”

He wets his lips with his tongue and his jaw tightens as he keeps his eyes on the road, the leather cladding the wheel creaks under his grip.

When he refuses to do it, you return to your schedule.

“I’m sorry.”

You keep your eyes on the piece of paper attached to your planner and your husband groans as he leans back in his chair, his head resting on the support.

“I’m sorry for antagonizing our son.” He squeezes your thigh. “And for insulting you. I know you are more than capable in balancing both your duties to Panem and our family.”

Finally, your rouge painted lips spread to a small smile.

“You are forgiven.” You place your hand over his. The glint of the rings on your finger easing his anxiousness a bit more.

Harper yaps and Coriolanus grins. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, I’m not stealing mommy.”

You press a knuckle to your lips, not wanting to laugh as your son takes quick offense in being left out. You try to keep your voice down as you turn to your husband. “I’ll make time for us later, I promise.”

He brings your hand to his lips to kiss and quickly lets you go as Harper yaps angrily.

The moment you enter the presidential mansion, one you use only for official business, Harper understands that he cannot be fussy anymore. He was seated on your lap, nibbling on a fruit pacifier as a man talked while pointing at the bright square behind him. The moving objects greatly entertained the baby on your lap.

Harper recognizes your voice and looks up. He pulls the pacifier from his mouth when your tone sharpens. The boy’s blond crinkle together as his lips jut out when the unknown man responds to you with anger.

The other people in the room also seem to be angry at the person standing and Harper leans back on your stomach knowing that his mommy is not alone. But the man is suddenly pointing at you and to him, the poor innocent boy. Harper grunts and looks at his father angrily.

“Da!”

Coriolanus, who was leaning to the side with his legs crossed, looked at his son. He brings a finger to his lips and Harper huffs.

“You are failing to see things objectively.” Coriolanus says to the man who was starting to sweat under the disapproving eyes of everyone present in the room. “The Lady did not dismiss your idea because she was biased to infants. Your idea was dismissed as administering a vaccine to the younger population of Panem without having it thoroughly tested could be catastrophic. We are talking about large scale mortality.”

The man laughs and Harper presses himself closer to you, disturbed by the behavior.

“Why do you care, Mister President? They’re just Districts!”

Coriolanus nods, finally understanding the argument of this man. He had suspicions but he wanted the man to say it.

“Districts.” Coriolanus grins sardonically. “Do you plan to instigate a second rebellion?”

The man is tongue-tied, he makes wild gestures but fails to keep his argument. “Exaggeration.” He laughs nervously.

“When their children start dying off, will they not fight back?” Coriolanus asks. “And a rebellion does not happen overnight.” He adds. “It is because of the piling up missteps made by men like you.” Harper slams his chubby hand on the desk to show he is on his father’s side. “Thank you, Harper. And who will suffer when that happens?”

The man looks at his feet in shame. The backlash could be severe. The crops and livestock sent to the Capitol could be poisoned. The Capitol could be powered down when all the system shuts off.

Countless possibilities and consequences could take place after one wrong decision.

“But I understand that this vaccine is important.” Coriolanus sighs. “Send it back to the lab. Study it further for possible adverse reactions. I will not give the greenlight until you are able to tell me the mechanism of action of this vaccine without looking at your notes.”

As the men file out of the room, you sit Harper on the hard wood table as you clean up your desk. “I cannot believe the cabinet let this man reach your office. He was unprepared.” You say and Harper continues to chew on his pacifier, the crushed cherries inside needs replacing.

Coriolanus agrees with you and scoops Harper off the table, the little boy draws his arms and chin over his father’s shoulder to check if you are close by. “Shall we go, my love?”

You nod and you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss on Harper’s cheek as you lean on Coriolanus for support.

The next event is the annual summit, where Coriolanus is expected to give a speech involving the latest reports and advancements made by Panem’s Capitol based research facility and what plans lie ahead.

In the ceremony, the Lady Justice was often a symbolic figure that was ever present. Only this time, a sword seems to have gone missing in the smaller statue that is kept in the Presidential mansion’s reception hall.

“This is a disgrace.” Your husband tells the staff who were in charge of the events. “How could something so essential be misplaced?”

Harper was getting fussy in your arms at the sight of his father so agitated.

It seemed rather insignificant but having it missing is a blatant display of disrespect.

Your mind races for possible solutions.

You can talk to the media to cut the view of the Lady Justice.

Or perhaps you can have the entire statue be carried out of the room, no that would cause too much commotion.

And then it hits you.

“Corio.” You call and he reluctantly heads your way. “The sword in your office.”

Harper pulls at Coriolanus’ tie and nibbles. Your husband gently pulls the fabric, ignoring the wet stain as he processes your words.

“I think it might be the perfect size.” He rubs his chin. “I’ll go send someone to get it.”

You put a firm hand on his chest and he pauses.

“Harper and I will come get it.” You smile at him reassuringly. “It’s only a few floors up. And the peacekeepers stationed in your office will let me through and out with no hitches.”

Coriolanus wanted to protest but you were right.

You would be most efficient for the task.

“I can watch Harper.” He offers but you shake your head.

“Relax for now. Harper is going to help mommy get the sword.”

Coriolanus smiles tiredly and he presses his forehead against yours, his large hand placed on Harper’s back protectively.

“Da.” Harper calls and Coriolanus chuckles and snaps his fingers, an Avox places a pair of aviators to his hands, one he previously wore, and he puts it on Harper.

You often do this when you expect a lot of camera flashes. You would hate to overwhelm your baby.

“Still can’t believe that’s his first word when he’s such a momma’s boy.” Your husband says, making you smile affectionately.

You give him one last look before you rush out of the room with Harper in your arms. Camera flashes from the reporters follow after you.

The guests are already arriving and the main media companies are setting up their equipment. You have no time to lose.

Harper was such a good kid, not fussing as he clung to you when you rushed to the office of your dear husband.

As expected, the peacekeepers stationed outside the doors let you through without even asking about your business to be in the office.

You easily spot the sword on the side. It hasn’t been removed from the position you first saw it in back at the inauguration of Coriolanus as President.

“You beauty.” You smile as you easily grab it from the bracket mounted on the wall. Harper made an attempt to touch it but you were quick enough to pull it away from him. “This is dangerous, sweetheart.” You easily slip it inside the scabbard as you refuse to take any chances for Harper.

The peacekeepers stationed outside the presidential office were oriented about what happened and gladly reopened the door for you and Harper.

People moved out of the way as they saw the sword on your hand and the baby on the other. You have your chin held high as you enter the hall. Coriolanus stopped mid sentence while talking to Strabo Plinth at the sight of you.

“Oh, good Heavens!” Mrs. Plinth exclaims and approaches you with concern. You looked rather dangerous with the enormous weapon in your hand. Harper smiles brightly when he sees her and he raises his arms, wanting to be picked up by the woman. Mrs. Plinth cups her mouth, touched by the little boy’s behavior. You gladly hand her your son.

Grandmotherhood is a privilege stolen from her.

Mr. Plinth was smiling at you when you approached him and your husband.

“She saves the day.” He tells Coriolanus who nods with a proud look in his eyes.

You give Coriolanus the sword and he steps on the ladders to place the sword on the empty hand of the Lady Justice.

“Justice is restored.” The former President, Maximinius Ravinstill, claps his hand and the rest of the crowd rises from their seats to applaud you and Coriolanus. Justice was not something that could have easily been lost after the disappearance of a sword but The Lady Justice was an important symbolic figure not just to Corso but to Panem.

That night, you are in your shared bedroom. You are resting your back on the headboard, your tired back being cushioned by enormously large pillows while your son has fallen asleep from nursing on your ample bosom.

You are humming a soft tune, your feet moving to the melody when Coriolanus enters. He is yet to change his clothing as he was still in his dress pants and shirt that has a few buttons undone.

“Your grand entrance overshadowed the event.” He grins as he shows you the paper. There in the headlines, a picture of you with Harper held on one arm and sword on the other.

“Oh, Corio.” You frown apologetically. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He scoffs, the smile remaining on his face. “Everybody loved it! They forgave the errors I mentioned as they were so enamored by you.”

You are not certain how to respond but he shows you the photo once more.

“Look at Harper.” He says excitedly. “Grandma’am sent a photo of mine when I was still a toddler and he looks exactly just like me.”

You are not certain if Coriolanus was aware of the smitten look on his face but you dare not point it out as you listen to him talk about the photos and Harper.

Coriolanus might act indifferent to his son at times but he cannot deny the fact that Harper has him wrapped around his chubby little finger.

Quest for Happiness

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#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunt for glory #quest for happiness #dad coriolanus

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