#the politican
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Climbing To The Top (To Throw Myself Off)
Word Count: 2,150
(Trigger warnings for suicidal idealization, general talks of death and suicide. Please do not read if those topics are triggering to you.)
Alice wants nothing to do with him, James and Khai Zhi pity him and his daily drunken stumble back to the dorm room.
Payton is pitied and hated by the people who once would do anything for him, who once had every bit of faith invested in him and his dream of presidency.
But now, they've gone off to do better things, to work towards dreams of their own.
To be with people who are better for them.
Alice is better off with Thad, Payton knows it and he desperately wants to deny it.
Though, he knows in his heart that she once did love him.
He also knows that the way she looked at Thad, smiled at him with so much joy in her eyes, was a look that Payton wouldn't ever see again, at least not genuinely.
Alice could fake things when needed, that's what politics is, after all, but she couldn't fake loving Payton for the sake of his dream.
She deserves better and Thad is miles better than an man who drowns his sorrows in rum and self-pity.
So, up the stairs Payton goes.
The dormitory of NYU has a lot more floors than Payton remembers.
He's only ever gone to his floor, never this high up.
Never to the top floor and out the exit.
The bitter wind bites him, but that's winter in New York, cold and unforgiving.
When he first moved here, wintertime in New York was still cold but a lot less bitter.
He had enjoyed seeing the Rockefeller Christmas tree, tall and bright, bringing joy to anyone who saw it, tourists and native New Yorkers alike.
He sure had felt the joy, a simple spectacle that brought swelling joy to his heart.
His life wasn't the best and he was still trying to shake off his reputation from high school, but he felt joy in the simpler things.
But now, without Alice, without a dream and without anyone who believes in him, the simple things don't matter.
Christmas tree lights or a cheap cup of coffee from the cafe near NYU's campus or singing his heart out at the bar doesn't matter.
Payton looks down at the ground below him, bustling and lively.
People speed-walking from place to place, a million voices all chattering about a million separate things.
He is one person amongst all the other New Yorkers, one person amongst everyone in this state, in this country, in this world.
One person who wanted to do so much good for the world, but now has lost all hope.
Payton continues to look down and, for a moment, he expects to hear the one voice he can always depend on.
But now, he can't even conjure River.
If he did, it would be ironic and cruel.
Something in him hopes that River would yell at him, just to hold a mirror up to him.
To show him that he really is a piece of shit, that he is the reason Alice hates him, that everyone else hates him.
He's a huge piece of shit, only recently able to feel things, but he hasn't done anything useful with that.
All he does is halfheartedly get himself through school and have Skye or Infinity or James walk his pathetic self home in the middle of the night to tuck him into bed, only to hear him whine about a hangover every morning that follows.
It's all pathetic, he's pathetic and alone.
River is gone, Alice is gone, his friends are all better off without him, what does he have to live for?
Nothing, that is why he is here right now, standing on the edge of a building.
He looks around for one final moment, searching for a friend he doesn't have, for the ghost of his former lover to talk him out of it.
But no one is heard or seen.
So, off the building Payton goes.
He lands hard against the ground and shudders violently, his body jerking.
His eyes open and he's in his dorm, on the floor, with his comforter tangled around his legs.
He'd fallen off his bed, it wasn't real.
He's alive.
A dream was all it was, a vivid, lucid dream.
"You okay?" James asks him, sitting up in bed, "You've been tossing and turning all night."
Payton, confused and terrified and dreary, looks up at the clock on the wall.
2:38AM
He looks from the clock back to James, his mind scrambling for words.
Is he okay? No, fuck no.
But he can't- won't tell James that.
So, he gets himself up off the floor and shoves his comforter back onto his bed.
"I'm fine, James."
And they leave it at that.
Payton spends his day in school, working, working, working, so he doesn't have to think about the looming thought in his mind.
The looming thought that he tried to end his own life, even in his subconscious, the looming thought that he is at that type of rock bottom.
Rock bottom of being alone and desperate, which pushes people away.
He's been without Alice for years now, but he still had James and McAfee to keep him company.
They're better off without him the same as Alice is.
Infinity, one of the most compassionate and loving people he knows, has even started to drift away from him.
She has offered him help, sent him website links and phone numbers for an intervention.
Every time, Payton denied help, told her and everyone that he's fine.
But he isn't fine, the thought looms in his mind until his classes are done with and the sun has set.
So, down to the bar he goes.
He doesn't sing, he doesn't have it in him tonight.
He hasn't had it in him for a while now.
There aren't any songs in his mind that he wants to sing, happy songs or love songs, both of which he no longer resonates with.
Payton sits at a bar stool and he drinks and he drinks and he drinks, until his stomach is churning and his mind is fuzzy and his eyes are watering and he continues to drink until he can't feel anything at all.
The bartender cuts him off and even kicks him out tonight.
He's gotten drunk plenty of times before, but never to this extent.
His phone falls out of his back pocket and so does his wallet, by accident, he tells himself.
The bartender and then a bar patron try to give Payton his belongings back.
He walks out of the bar and doesn't look back.
"What the hell is wrong with him?" Someone mumbles to their friend, confused as all hell, just barely out of Payton’s earshot.
A lot is wrong with him, a lot.
Payton's eyes water and burn and he picks up his walking pace, stumbling back to the dormitory.
And up a long flight of stairs.
In his dream, it had been broad daylight.
Now, it's a starry night with light rain, sprinkling down onto his head.
The toes of his shoes are off of the building, as he wobbles unsteadily, on the cusp of jumping himself and blatantly falling due to his drunken state.
He's crying, crying a lot, sickness from all the alcohol and from his mind burning inside of him.
He leans a little forward, the drop is long, but it'll be quick-
"You don't have to do this." A voice tells him.
Payton startles and almost falls right then and there, but the voice, River, is quick and strong enough to pull him away from the edge.
River holds him steady, as steady as he can when Payton is fighting him, trying to get out of his grasp, crying and asking to be let go.
"You don't have to do this," River repeats, "This isn't how you solve your problems. I would know."
Payton gives one more jerk and kick, but, "I would know" makes him stop.
He sobs loudly at those words and he's brought back to that day in River's house.
Where River said a final goodbye and left Payton with a whistling hole in his heart.
River is being too kind to him. Payton, even while intoxicated, still believes that River should yell at him or punch him in the face.
He's got strong arms, it would hurt like hell.
Payton hurts like hell, it would be what he deserves.
If he is gone, people won't have to deal with his shit, his politics and alcoholism and his whining when things don't go his way.
"For me... it is." Payton retorts, "You can't talk- you can't talk me out of..."
He trails off, the alcohol stirring up his words. "You're gone and I'm alone!"
The words, slurred but clear to River, come out suddenly loud.
River holds onto him tighter, pulling him farther away from the edge of the building.
River looks at him, his face calm but concerned, he has to be calm, steady.
Payton's face is drenched in his own tears, he shuffles through an expression of sadness, then anger, them despair and hopelessness.
He collapses onto the cold concrete of the top of the dormitory, collapsing into River and crying and crying and crying.
It's only when he holds onto River that the truths comes out in a sob,
"I don't want to be alone." His voice shakes and he shivers, "I don't have you, Alice hates me, everyone hates me, because all I do is ruin lives. Infinity could've died because of my selfishness, you... you did die-"
River holds Payton's cheek in his hand, holding onto him firmly with the other, he is not letting him go.
"I didn't do it because of you, I told you that before, in your coma."
"I don't believe you." Payton replies darkly, his voice deep and gruff, "If I had to deal with someone like me, I'd kill myself, too."
Payton turns to look at the ledge, River understands and pulls him close to his chest.
He won't let him go, he won't let Payton go.
Even without politics, he can change the world, River has full faith in him.
There's silence between them and Payton's mind spins and spins.
Though he isn't real, River is warm, warm and safe and here for him.
He isn't alone.
Tonight, he isn't alone.
Tomorrow, he can make himself not alone.
He has the power to do so.
For months now, Payton has been pushing people away, denying help and burrowing himself further into his sorrows that he pretends aren't there, the deep, empty holes in his heart.
But the pain is real. It's real and it hurts.
Even though they pity him, he has people who care.
His pain blinded him from the people who care, all he saw was pity, but behind the pity was concern and love.
He has to stop pushing them away, that is a part of the problem, a part of the solution.
For a moment longer, Payton holds onto River, the last few bursts of tears coming out of him.
Tears of sadness, but also of a revelation.
He holds onto River and shuts his eyes, taking deep breaths like he's always been taught.
One... two... three... four...
When he opens them, River is gone.
He is alone on the wet concrete, the rain is pouring down harder now, soaking him thoroughly.
He rubs his eyes, then looks out at the vast New York City skyline, buildings and lights and people of all walks of life, all with their own dreams and hopes and sorrows and troubles.
He's one of those people, one who's troubles need help resolving.
So, down the stairs Payton goes.
Into his bed, to sleep for a long time.
James wakes him up the following morning for the first time ever, he's never had to be woken up by him before.
When asked if he's okay, Payton tells the truth and he sees James cry for the first time since they were children.
James is stoic, the way Payton used to be.
Hearing of last night, of Payton's attempt and the reason he left his phone and wallet behind, and the revelation of needing help... makes James' eyes water.
Payton gets help, little by little.
He goes through his phone to find the number for intervention and he calls it, going everyday after school.
His life has unfolded into many troubles and traumas, which brings him to see a therapist, who he lays everything out for, and cries and cries and cries.
He reaches out to his friends, slowly pulling them towards him again, they're all proud of him for getting help.
He finds joy again, in simple things, in the fact that he's alive and surrounded by people who love him.
The trip up the stairs isn't taken again.
#the politican#the politician netflix#the politician fics#payton and river#hobarkley#payton x river#angst#ANGST I REPEAT ANGST#It has a happy ending but it’s a trip to get there
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Every time i get my special 12.5mg high somebody famous(typically a politican) gets badly injured or dies. What does this mean
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"vote with your wallet!" "All they care about is profit." "go after their wallets where it hurts!" "New boycott list dropped!" "we want to make them care" "calling doesn't work so expose them to donors!" "email them to let them know you'll stop buying-" "if they won't listen we won't pay taxes!"
#i am tired of waking up in a late stage capitalist dystopia#bring back the guillotine actually#tired of capitalists making life worse#also im not saying boycotts are bad im saying its FUCKED money has replaced the peoples voice#like literally- Literally- kill your local politican#capitalism#late stage capitalism#leftist#socialist#politics#political action#voting#vote with your wallet#profit motive
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Based on this ask
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, masterbation (m & f), p in v (alluded to), Dark!Coriolanus, Young Politician!Coriolanus, Secretary!Reader
This one got away from me so it's a bit long. Whoops...
You're at your desk, logging into your computer to start the day whenever the door to the office opens and in walks your boss. Senator Coriolanus Snow. One of the youngest Head Gamemakers and Senators in the history of Panem. He's only 24 years old and he's already so successful.
Crazy, right?
Your older brother was in the same graduating class as him at the Academy. Rein was a slacker that wasn't in the top 24 while Coryo- uh Coriolanus- was the top student, won the Plinth prize, and even did a short stint as a Peacekeeper to serve the greater good of the country (like his father General Crassus Snow did before him) before attending the University as a double major in Political Science and Military Strategies. Oh and while attending the University he interned under Dr. Gaul, became an Assistant Gamemaker, and even became the Head Gamemaker himself when Dr. Gaul died in a tragic lab accident involving her mutts.
And he did all of that by age 20.
Age 20!
After graduating from the Academy, Rein was shoved into the Peacekeepers by your father, retired Colonel Javanis Halvir. Your brother was sent to 8 and he complained in all of his letters about it. Once he was eligible to take the Officer's Aptitude Exam, your father had ordered him to sign up. So, Rein took the test and became an officer. He got assigned to PK Base D-12.
And that's what your older brother accomplished by 20. Oh and he also knocked up a local barmaid from the Hobb, causing your father to have a stroke. Your mother found it very comical.
And then both of your parents told you that you needed to redeem the family name, blah blah blah, and pushed you to be the top student in the Academy. So, of course you ended up in the top 24. And you mentored a tribute, a 17 year old boy from 7, that won. He was very proficient with an ax. You didn't have to do too much mentoring, he basically just hacked everybody to bits…
But you still won the Plinth Prize anyways. And during the ceremony for the prize, instead of Strabo Plinth handing you over the Plinth Prize it was his heir instead.
Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.
After handing you the prize he had asked you to have a glass of posca with him, causing your mother to glare angrily at the interaction. Your father on the other hand was ecstatic that Coryo-uh Coriolanus- wanted to talk to you. He served under General Snow in 12; thought that Coriolanus was a man cut from the same cloth as his father.
Anyways, once you and Coriolanus Snow got to talking he admitted that he was going into politics and would need a personal secretary; an assistant per say to help him with his day to day tasks such as scheduling meetings, etc. and much to your surprise, he offered you the job.
That was a couple of years ago.
So, yes, that's how you got your job. And you really liked your job. It wasn't that hard to do plus it made you feel important that such an accomplished and powerful man trusted you to manage his life.
If you only knew that Coriolanus, who's been insisting that you call him Coryo for roughly a year now, has been lusting after you since he saw you in a cute dress that hugged your body just right when he presented you the Plinth Prize 2 years ago. Also, your boss is a dark soul. A cold man. But he does have a soft spot for you.
And only for you.
Which is why he greets you with a wide, manic smile that makes the corners of his baby blues crinkle. “Good morning, Y/N.” The platinum blonde senator says while crossing the room, heading to your desk.
“Good morning, Senator Snow.” You politely smile, pulling up the excel document in order to print out the day's schedule for your boss. And talk about your boss, he's holding a bouquet of white roses in one hand and a tray of coffee along with a pastry bag in the other as he stops at your desk.
Coriolanus sets everything down, only to grab the vase on the corner of your desk and bring it over to the trash. All the while saying, “I brought you some fresh roses, courtesy of Grandma’am’s rooftop garden, to replace the wilted ones on your desk.”
The blonde politician did that every Monday for you. He brought fresh flowers for your office vase. A vase he gifted you for your one year work anniversary last year.
Dumping the contents of the vase out in the trash can, Coriolanus gestured to the coffees and brown paper bag on your desk, only to explain, “The barista at the coffee shop got my order wrong, so I had to do a second order, but since I already paid for the wrong order I figured I'd give it to you.”
“Oh, thank you, Coriolanus, Sir.” You simply smiled, grateful for the free coffee. You were going to put a pot on in the break room as soon as you printed out Snow's schedule, but getting an unexpected cup of coffee’s always nice.
Perhaps you'll pay it forward and treat him to coffee tomorrow. The gods know that you have his coffee order memorized.
It's black, just like his soul, with a couple of sugar packets. Not Splenda, not Sweet ‘n’ Low, not Truvia, but real sugar made from sugar cane grown down in 11. Oh and he always has a chocolate filled croissant too.
You also know his afternoon tea order by heart along with his dinner orders from a handful of takeout places he prefers. Hell, you even know his liquor order for after hours meetings. But it's your duty to know those things since, after all, you're his personal secretary.
Literally his right hand woman.
“Darling, how many times have I told you to, please, call me Coryo.” Your boss shook his head at you while bringing the empty vase to the nearby bathroom to fill up with water.
It must've been at least a hundred times by now, maybe more. But it felt weird to you calling your boss such a personal sounding nickname. You're both professional adults, if you call him by his name it should be Coriolanus. If not then you'll just refer to him as his title, since he's your boss.
“You know I can't call you Coryo, Coriolanus. It's not proper; you're my boss.” You remind the senator, who's dressed to the nines today in a perfectly tailored three piece black suit- complete with a white dress shirt and striped tie, as he walks out of the bathroom and back into your foyer office with the filled up vase in hand.
A vase that looked dwarfed by his large grip. “We've known each other for a couple of years now, darling. I'd like to think of us as being on friendly terms, wouldn't you?” Coriolanus asked, placing the vase down on your desk and arranging the flowers in them for you.
You clicked the print button on your computer, only to swivel your chair around to reach the ink jet printer behind you. “Yes, we're friendly, but you're still my boss.”
“And as your boss I'm now ordering you to call me Coryo.” He told you, pulling out the coffee that was yours, due to error, and setting it on your desk while you watched the printer spit out the paper with his daily schedule on it.
“Fine, I'll call you Coryo.” You gave in, grabbing the paper and swiveling back around to face your him.
“I got two croissants since I had to get my order remade, so it looks like you'll be getting one this morning, darling.” Coryo told you, opening up the paper bag and pulling out a pastry. He grabbed a napkin that was stuffed into the drink carrier and put it on your desk, next to your coffee, before depositing your croissant on it.
“Thank you.” You simply smile. Handing him over his schedule, you announce, “Here's your schedule for today.”
The platinum blonde gives you a closed lip smile and nods before stretching his hand out for the paper. “You've got a dinner meeting tonight at 7 o’clock sharp with a political sponsor.” You reminded him, your fingertips brushing, while he grabs the outstretched paper from you.
Briefly glancing over the paper in his hand, he asked, “Would you like to go with me?”
“What?”
“Dinner at 7 o’clock sharp. Would you like to go with me?”
Shaking your head, you politely decline his offer. “Oh no, I'm sorry, Coryo, Sir, but I can't go.”
“Why not? Got a boyfriend or something occupying your time?” The senator sharply asks, his baritone heavy with a tingle of jealousy.
Coriolanus prayed to every God he never believed in that you're single. If not, well he's going to go whack some unlucky bastard to free you up to be his girl. He's decided that he's tired of pinning over you; stalking you.
Coryo's ready to take things to the next level. He's ready to fucking corrupt you; make you his forever. He's going to be announcing his bid for the presidential runoff, the first step in becoming one of two candidates to face off for the presidency, and it's time for him to get into a relationship.
A public relationship.
And you're perfect for that. Coriolanus knows, without a doubt, that you'll make a perfect First Lady. That your beauty and slight innocence will be the perfect contrast to his cold, stoic, but regal stature. That you're a perfect fit for him.
Plus he's getting tired of paying for whores. Whores that he has to keep disposing of so that they can't blackmail him about his sexual appetite. Coriolanus prides himself of being from one of the founding families of Panem, from the Old Guard. He even runs on the Old Guard ticket; he can't have some disgruntled whore tarnishing his reputation.
It'd be much cheaper and easier to just get you into bed; fuck you in all the ways that he likes.
But he also has a soft spot for you. Coryo likes you. Okay, that's a lie. He's obsessed with you in such a dark, sick way that if he sees a man smile at you or get too close to you then he's killing that man. Yea, Senator Snow’s in love with you, or at least in his head he's in love with you.
It's more like an obsession.
“No.” You shook your head. “I don't have a boyfriend.” Well, you had an on-again, off-again thing going on with your neighbor across the hall from you, but since it's currently off Coryo doesn't need to know about that.
Coriolanus swore that he heard the heavens singing hymns upon hearing that you're single. Yes, now’s the perfect time for him to make you his.
“Then I'll have my driver pick you up for dinner tonight. Wear something nice.”
Once again, you decline him invitation. “You're my boss, I'm sorry, but I can't go with you tonight.”
Usually Coriolanus appreciates your professionalism and dedication to your job, but right now he loathes it. Why can't you just accept that he's taking you to his dinner meeting tonight. That he's showing you off on his arm for the entire Capitol to see.
Leaning against your desk, he gives you a piercing look with his icy eyes and tells you, “It's a very important business dinner with a political sponsor, Y/N, and you're my assistant.” A calculating look crosses the politician's face as he adds in, “It's actually, you might say, very vital that you attend dinner with me tonight.”
Well…
When he puts it that way.
“Okay, I'll go to dinner with you tonight.” You relent, causing a smug grin to appear on Coryo's face.
“Good.” Coryo grins, making his face light up like sunshine, as he grabs his coffee and pastry bag. “Since dinner's at 7, I'll have my driver pick you up at 6:45. That'll leave a 15 minute window to get to the restaurant.” The platinum blonde told you the plan before pivoting on his heel and striding over to his office. Pausing at his door, with his large hand hovering over the knob, he looked over his shoulder and told you, “Wear either a red or black dress, but preferably red.”, before opening up the door and disappearing inside of his office.
Oh, how did you get into this mess?
Coriolanus sat at his mahogany desk, going over documents for various bills that he could either sponsor or just straight up deny. Honestly, most of the shit that got dumped on his desk he denied. If it didn't pertain to the Capitol and the Capitolites then he just shoved the document in his shredder and made a note to vote no, well in the Senate it was ‘nah’, on it.
And Senator Snow was notorious for voting nah on everything.
As he sat in his office going over mindless matters, he couldn't help but wonder about what you'd look like all dolled up for dinner tonight. He knew that you had a few nice cocktail dresses to pick from, but the mystery of whether you'd listen to him and wear something black or preferably red versus another color altogether made his head spin a mile a minute. He hopes that you're a good little secretary and listen to him about the dress.
But what he really can't help fantasizing about is what you'll be wearing underneath your dress. He can't help picturing you in a bra and panty set that hugs your body in the right ways. The senator's daydreaming about delicate lace molded against your most private parts, that are hidden away only for your lover to see.
And just thinking about becoming your lover, stripping you out of not just your dress, but your soft, delicate lingerie has his pants growing tighter. So tight, in fact, that it was downright uncomfortable.
Letting out a barely audible groan, the platinum blonde stood up from his desk and went over to his door. For just a moment, he leaned his forehead against it and debated on whether or not to call you into his office; have you on your knees underneath his desk for him. But then he decided against it; locked his door instead and went over to his desk chair to take care of himself.
You're not some district whore, you deserve to be properly wined and dined first before he has you on your knees for him- choking on his cock with tears and mascara messily running down your cheeks.
Oh, just the thought of you with your pretty mouth around his large cock had said cock twitching in his pants.
Quickly, Coriolanus makes his way over to the small sofa that's in the corner of his office. He makes quick work of undoing his belt, only to tug his pants and boxer briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free before sitting on the sofa. Spitting in his hand, he leans back into the sofa and wraps his large hand around his cock.
He feels his dick throbbing angrily in his cold hand while sliding his thumb over his tip’s leaky slit. The platinum blonde bites back a moan, and closes his eyes- pretending that it's your hand wrapped around his shaft and your thumb teasing his cockhead. Fuck, how he craves your touch. Using his thumb to spread precum over his tip and down the length of his dick, he started to move his fist up and down in measured glides.
Coriolanus knows he should just rub one out as quick as possible since he's at work, but the fact that you- the object of all his fantasies- is right outside won't let him. Being in such close proximity to you feeds his fantasies and he has to have a proper handjob session.
Coriolanus has to indulge in the make believe notion that you're the one pumping his cock up and down, twisting your wrist slightly every now and then. That it's you playing with his cum heavy balls, making his toes curl in his socks and black floor shines, as the fist around his cock starts to slightly pick up pace.
Gods, he's getting lost in his fantasy of you pleasuring him with your hands, hell even your mouth- that he's sure will be aching from his cock unhinging your jaw when you suck him off- that the loud ringing of his office phone startles him.
“Goddamnit! Can't I fuck my fist in peace?” Coriolanus grumbled.
He's angry that his fantasy was broken; that he has to fist his cock faster than he wanted to.
The phone continued to ring off the hook as he furiously moved his hand up and down his dick. He bit his lip and bucked his hips, spurting his cum into his left hand. The one that he was using on his balls before the damn phone started ringing like crazy.
Letting out an aggravated sigh, he grabbed a few tissues from the box on the side table next to him and wiped off his hand. Standing up to right his boxer briefs and pants, he heard your heels echo down the hall. Great, just great, now you're on your way to his office because the phone’s ringing off the hook.
Quickly, Coriolanus tosses the tissues into the wastebin. Rushing to his desk, he grabs the phone, only to slam it down. Hard.
Hey, he made the excessive ringing stop. Whoever called should just stick to the after 3 rings, hang up and try again later rule. Coriolanus has more important things to do than listen to a phone ring endlessly.
More important things: like jacking off to daydreams and fantasies about his secretary.
His secretary that's knocking on his door and asking him if he's alright.
“I'm fine, my darling.” Coriolanus called out to you while crossing his office. He unlocked his door and opened it, only to give you a manipulative smile while feeding you the bullshit lie of, “I just zoned out reading a grant proposal and didn't realize the phone was ringing.”
“Are you sure you're alright?” You asked, only to follow it up with the offer of, “I can always read some of those grant proposals and take notes on them for you, if you want. That way you won't get so bored to death reading them that you miss important phone calls.”
“You'd do that, for me?” Coriolanus asked, feeling a bit touched by your offer. Oh, how he thinks you're an absolute sweetheart.
A perfect angel sent to him from the Lord above. And he's your golden angel too.
Lucifer, that is.
“Of course, Coryo. It's my job to help you with paperwork.”
And before another word could be shared between you two, his phone started ringing. Again.
“Oh, I'll leave you to your call. Just put whatever you want me to read for you on my desk later.”
“I will, darling.” Coriolanus smiles at you, watching you walk away before closing his door.
Storming over to his phone, he sees that the video option light is blinking. Sitting down, he answered the phone and pressed the button to turn on his video call screen. As soon as the face of the half-assed idiot that was one of the Junior Gamemakers appeared on the screen he immediately felt a migraine coming on.
“Senator Snow, are you neglecting Head Gamemaker duties in favor of politics? You never answered my call.” The redhead man with a bad combover had the audacity to tell his boss via the phone screen.
Poor soul must not value his life…
“There’s 3 fucking months before the games, that I'm designing, so there's no damn reason for you to call me and let the phone ring off the hook. Are you incompetent? If you had the common sense that God gave a mule the. You'd know I was busy with other matters and couldn't answer your ridiculous call.” Coriolanus seethed in a long winded rant. His veins were protruding from his pale neck; a red vein was angrily popping in his forehead too. But it was his eyes that held so much hate in their icy orbs.
The man on the phone screen, despite being a few years older then Senator Snow, was a complete incompetent idiot in Coriolanus' opinion. Age certainly didn't make him any wiser.
“I'm a very busy man; next time you pester me I'll have you thrown into a tank full of rabid mutts.” Coriolanus promised the Junior Gamemaker before hanging up, hard, on him.
Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose and slumps into his overstuffed leather office chair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he rubs his temples and tries to calm down by daydreaming about dinner with you tonight.
Your day went on as it usually does. You took calls and made appointments for Senator Snow. You also read and typed up some cliff notes for a few bills that Coryo left for you before he took off for lunch. He didn't say where he was going and you didn't ask.
When he came back from a power lunch, you knew he went somewhere for drinks cause you could smell a hint of whiskey radiating from his pores, he greeted you with a simple thin lipped smile and placed a container of food on your desk. He didn't tell you to take your lunch break, but the way he wordlessly moved his baby blues between you and the doggie bag he just dumped on your desk was more than enough to give you a hint that he wanted you to eat. So, you simply thanked him, before handing him some notes and taking the food he got you to the break room.
After lunch, the remainder of your day was mundane. Or at least it was until Coryo emerged from his office and strutted over to your desk. You didn't pay him any mind, figuring that he prolly just wanted the other bills back along with the notes you just finished up on them. So, when he perches himself on the corner of your desk, all the while suggesting, “Darling, why don't you leave early. You can pamper yourself with, say, a rosewater bubble bath before tonight's dinner. Yea?”, you're taken aback.
You're in total shock.
Your nose scrunched up, reminding Coriolanus of a little bunny rabbit, as you asked incredulously, “Excuse me, Senator Snow? You're sending me home early?” Softly, you trailed off, “To take a bubble bath…”, while tilting up a baffled arched eyebrow.
“A rosewater bubble bath.” The regal platinum man corrected with a long finger high up in the air. Leaning slightly, so that he towers over you as you sit behind your desk (and gets a nice little peek down your v-neck blouse at your modest cleavage), he tells you, “You're such a dedicated employee; I think you deserve to go home early and pamper yourself before I drag you out to a dinner with my potential political sponsor.”
And what he wasn't telling you was that Mr. Feathersworth was bringing his mistress along. Oh yea… So, technically, it's a couples dinner.
Really? He wants you to relax and pamper yourself before a dinner full of political talk? Wow. You weren't expecting that from your boss.
“My bath and beauty products are actually rose-vanilla scented, Coryo, not rosewater.” You told him, before you could even think better of it.
A smirk appears on Coryo's face and desire briefly flashed in his cerulean eyes. The imposing man favored roses; in fact it was his signature, so that fact that you used rose-vanilla scented bath and beauty products had his cold, black heart beating with warmth, life, and daresay love for you.
“Darling, you deserve to pamper yourself in that rose-vanilla bubble bath. We'll be in for quite a long evening; you don't want to be tense beforehand, now so you?”
Well…
When he puts it that way.
Sighing slightly, you gave in with, “Fine, I'll leave early and pamper myself with a bubble bath.”
“Rose-vanilla bubble bath.” Coriolanus corrected with a ghost of a smile tracing his lush lips. Patting your cheek, he tells you, “Go ahead and go, darling. I'll be fine here for a few more hours.”, before pushing himself off of your desk.
“Thank you. I'll see you later for that political dinner.” You genuinely smiled, grabbing your bag out from under your desk and shouldering it before standing up.
“Remember, my driver will be by at 6:45 sharp.”
“Oh, that's right. You need-” You began, intending to give Senator Snow your address, only to be cut off by a raised hand. “I have your address in my employee files, Y/N.” His baritone hung thickly in the air like honey stuck on a honeycomb; slowly dripping down, as he ordered, “Go home and pamper yourself; get all dolled up in something red, my darling rose.”
As you sat neck deep in your tub, surrounded by bubbles, thoughts of your boss floated around your head. You never really thought much about him, or at least you didn't til now. Yes, you always thought that he was easy on the eyes- platinum hair (you always secretly wondered if the carpet matches the drapes), striking crystal blue eyes, a prominent nose, sharp jawline, tall and lanky build. But you never truly fixated your attention on his looks, or at least until now that is.
You can't explain it, but the interaction you had with him before leaving the office had your blood racing. You're flustered with dirty thoughts. Things that you've never truly let yourself imagine about Senator Coriolanus Snow.
But now…
Well, now you find yourself closing your eyes and thinking about your boss while relaxing in your bath; trailing hand over your breasts while your other hand’s rubbing your clit; dipping two fingers in and out of your pussy.
It's best to get this out of your system now, before you're stuck going to dinner with him tonight.
“Coriolanus, I was expecting your driver to pick me up.” You gasp, hand tightly gripping the doorknob of your open door, as you're shocked by the sight of the tall platinum blonde standing in front of you- dressed impeccably in a deep crimson suit with a single red rose in his hand.
“Bentley drove me here.” Coriolanus informed you. “Now, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't walk up to your door to get you our dinner date?” He smirks, offering you the rose.
Your eyes widen at his words. “Dinner date…but I thought this was a professional dinner with a potential political backer, Senator Snow.” You tell him as you shakily take the offered rose from his large, outstretched hand.
“Yes, well, my darling, Mr. Feathersworth informed me that he's bringing along his mistress to Mizuna’s so I don't see why we can't mix some business with pleasure as well.”
Before you could utter a word, the door right across the hall and behind Coriolanus opened; out walked your on-off neighbor ex. Bastard was dressed like he's going out somewhere (or going out with someone). His sea-green eyes look over at you and lock Coriolanus back a bit curiously: portraying that he can't believe you're all dolled up and going out with someone so regal looking.
Deciding that you didn't like the look on your ex’s face, you put your hand on Coriolanus' label and press a quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “Let me put up this rose, Coryo, and then you can take me on our date.”
Coryo grabbed your face in one of his hands and kissed you again, this time his lips searing and hungry, before running his hand over your cheekbone and darkly smirking, “You can just take it along with us, darling. I'm taking you home with me tonight; it'd be such a shame for you to leave your rose alone on a side table all night.”
“You're taking me home with you?” You asked, finding this information entirely new to you.
At least your bronze haired ex wasn't standing behind Coryo; gawking at you anymore.
Pulling you out of your apartment and locking your doorknob, only to slam the door shut, he bluntly tells you, “I’d be a fool not to, Y/N, and, frankly, I'm anything, but a fool.” Coryo smoothly tell you while leading you down the hallway; towards the elevator bank.
And of course when you reach the elevator your ex is just stepping into it. Great, now you're going to be riding in an elevator with your on-off neighbor ex and your boss/sudden new fling.
Oh boy…
“After you, darling.” Coryo sweetly tells you, guiding you into the metal box while following right behind you.
You feel your ex’s eyes on you, burning a hole into the side of your face, as Coriolanus hits the buttons to both close the door and go to the lobby.
“Should've known you'd be cozy with Senator Snow, considering you're his personal secretary.” Flew out of your ex’s mouth as soon as he saw Coryo's large hand come to rest on the small of your back.
“Odysseus…” You chastise, nearly hissing at him.
Coriolanus snapped his head around so fast, it was as if it was going to spin off exorcist style, and narrowed his eyes at the bronze haired man next to you. “I can have you turned into an Avox for slander against Miss Y/N, so I’d mind that useless tongue of yours if I were you.”
“Coryo, calm down. My neighbor-”
“Ex” Odysseus supplied at the same time you uttered the word neighbor, causing Coriolanus’ face to turn into hardened stone.
“She doesn't belong to you anymore, Odysseus. My darling seems to have gotten tired of settling for beans and has upgraded to the filet mignon.” The senator told your ex in a smooth, but eerily cold tone. “You ought to consider yourself lucky that I won't be calling for your tongue, but I'm sure I'm we can agree to you not bothering my sweet girl anymore, can't we, Mister-”
“Odair. Name's Odysseus Odair, Senator Snow.” Your ex shot out, his voice fake and sugary, as he played with fire.
Snow melts, but fish fry. And unfortunately for Odysseus Odair he'd learn that the hard way after Senator Coriolanus Snow gets him exhiled to District 4 for the crimes of slander. Coriolanus' cold ass gives Poseidon Odair, Odysseus’ father, an ultimatum- either sign over his assets, investments, and company over to him and go into exhiled on 4 with his son or his son would be turned into an Avox for slander against you, the senator's personal secretary and girlfriend.
Coriolanus Snow was a cold ass to everyone except for you. Something that you'd come to discover in time. But right now it's not important.
No, right now what's important is keeping the senator from tearing your ex apart limb by limb.
Sensing that Coryo was starting to unravel (something that you've never seen and, frankly, didn't want to) you rubbed his shoulder while telling him, “Coryo, please, just let it go. You don't want to be in a bad mood before dinner with your political backer, do you?”
Coriolanus’ jaw twitched for a moment before he gave you a slight smile, “Of course, darling.”
Odysseus found Senator Snow's demanear changing into sweet and loving for you at the drop of a hat very alarming. Honestly, he thought it was downright scary that Snow went from menacing one minute to practically cooing at you the next.
As soon as the elevator came to a stop and the doors dinged open, your ex practically ran out of them. It made Coryo chuckle.
You and Coryo walked out of the elevator together, only to cross the lobby and head out of the building towards his car. His driver, Bentley, was standing by the black luxury sedan that was parked in front of the curb. Upon seeing you with the senator, he quickly opened the back door. You thanked him and let Coryo help you into the backseat.
“Oh, darling, I'm so sorry for not telling you earlier, but you look truly beautiful in your red dress.” Coryo told you, once he was settled in the back seat next to you.
“Thank you, Coryo. You look handsome yourself.” You replied with a smile as the driver took his place behind the wheel and pull the car away from your building.
“And tonight we'll make quite the debate as a stunning political couple.” The platinum blonde confidently told you as you rode to the high end restaurant the meeting with major political endorser Mr. Feathersworth, and his mistress, was taking place at.
Tonight is only the first of many spent at Coryo's side. It's safe to say that you're Senator Snow's darling sectary; that he has a soft spot for you. After all, he charmed you into becoming his girlfriend with the guise of attending a political dinner with him for work related purposes.
But you'd accept that dinner invitation again and again no matter what universe you're in because that dinner ended with Coryo fucking you in the backseat of his car. The poor driver nearly drove the car off a bridge and into the opposite lane of traffic he was so startled by what his boss and you were doing. Yes, the two of you still were clothed (for the most part) but Bentley knew that if he looked into the rearview mirror and saw something he wasn't supposed to then Snow would have his eyeballs pickled in a jar (literally!). And after fucking in the backseat of his car, a life was created with Coryo and you never left his side.
Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress
#coriolanus snow#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#coriolanus snow x reader#thg#coryo snow#tbosas fanfiction#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus smut#coriolanus snow smut#politican!coriolanus snow#politician!coryo x secretary!reader#coryo snow smut#coryo smut#coriolanus snow x you#coryo snow fanfiction#coryo snow x reader#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#dark!coriolanus snow#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth smut#tbosas fic#thg fanfiction#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coryo snow x you#coryo x reader#coriolanus x reader
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Sabir laughing after you punch Nikke while everyone else is exasperated is such a great moment
Sabir lives for drama and don't ever let him tell you otherwise
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Lucy Boynton as Astrid Sloan in The Politician
#lucy boynton#astrid sloan#the politician#the politican netflix#filmedit#filmtvcentral#filmgifs#filmandtv#film edit#userstream#smallscreensource#sitcomedit#so ik that the song shes dancing to is Clearest Blue by CHVRCHES#but#all i was able to hear in my head when making this is murder on the dancefloor#mine
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I think there’s something to be said for the fact that I used to dread presentations when I was younger but now plan to go out of my way to sign myself up for them so I can improve my public speaking. Me from not even two years ago would’ve never. But now ?? The more the merrier let me at them
#anything from research poster presentations to research conferences to medical conferences#i also plan on investigating conferences that center on arab culture through the refugee center i volunteer at#i think my frivolous little girl dream of being someone who actually contributes is coming to fruition more and more each day#obviously i'll be fucking nervous presenting to a bunch of doctors professors politicans etc etc#but it's just necessary! i want to conduct myself w confidence amongst professionals#instead of just being 21 and young and awkward and immediately getting written off as someone not to be taken seriously#not now!! i need to not do this thing where i throw myself into 80 different things at once#studying is my top priority atm#but soon! very soon. hopefully as i progress more thru my orgo research#so many things to look forward to i am going to melt into stardust#p
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why can none of these bizarre politicians ever be progressive or something
#the last bizarre politican we had who was progressive was like. pedro castillo#and they couped him basically
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#covid#coronavirus#the only bright side here is that there will be a comment period#i think people should give them hell#anyways this is why im always saying covid is a labour issue#they dont care about whether ur healthy they care whether u can be forced to drag urself to work so they can say the GDP went up 0.0001%#covid 19#oh and ofc they say all this while politicans still have onerous testing protocols
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i totally get not shipping jonerys but i think there's too much potential for george not to explore. i do think jon is going to be critical of dany’s methods and they’re doomed, but they have a lot in common too? like wanting to impose their beliefs and world view on others, and they can bond over having really bad pr too! i just hope that it’s more interesting than the show, for my own sanity.
I do think there's potential to explore but I just do not see the romantic potential. Their commonalities are not the sort that would make them get along. Jon's bad PR is he's a reclusive dick running off bad advice (from another Targaryen to boot) who won't explain his long term plans to people he doesnt like, sends every single one of his allies away, and is trying to break down long held prejudices in the span of a few months. Dany's bad PR seems similar except on top of "breaking down long held prejudices" she trusts violent, shady ass men at every turn (while Jon just straight up executes Slynt! Do you see Jon misstep wrt Alliser and Bowen? Yes, but he is not sitting here justifying their violence the way Dany justifies men like Daario), compromises in ways that completely undermine the prejudices she's trying to break down, and has now simply accepted that her dragons killing innocent people is an acceptable loss. Dany takes a profit off the selling of slaves and I simply do not believe Jon would react so cavalierly to Dany telling him about how she burned her slave alive to hatch her dragons, especially after whatever shenanigans Melisandre and Stannis are going to be getting up to in TWOW. Not for nothing here, but Jon does not use Ghost as a killing machine; anyone or anything Ghost has killed has been in defense of Jon while Drogon is very much a weapon of war.
Beyond that, Dany's identity is very tied up in the being the last dragon. She's going to be ten times worse in the books about finding a dragonseed in Westeros, especially if Rhaegar found out Elia was killed and married Lyanna, thereby legitimizing Jon above Dany's own claim. She's going to kill Aegon VI and destroy KL, maybe even Casterly Rock and parts of Dorne as well! The thing I think everyone overlooks here though is that she is not getting to Westeros until the very end of TWOW at the earliest! She's going to have wracked up a kill count higher than every other character on page, probably a kill count higher than the Conquerors or the Dance or the Redgrass Field. Regardless of any similarities they have in their backgrounds, what Jon is likely to feel when she lands is horror, and a fair amount of nerves. Do I think he will feel guilt for having a hand in his aunt's death, in ending the line of Targaryens? Yes, absolutely! It doesn't mean his guilt will drive him to side with a woman who lands with a slave army and then sets fire to half the continent.
And to be completely honest, if they do hook up, if she lands and she's lauded as a hero after destroying the city states of Slaver's Bay, after slaughtering the khals of the dothraki, after taking a profit off slavery and engaging in collective and cruel & unusual punishment, if murdering Aegon VI for *checks notes* being lied to about who he is and having a better claim than her but not "earning" his ending, and finds some sort of happiness with Jon, I'm saying that's 100x more misogynistic than what the show did, not to mention nauseatingly imperialist and classist. The reason I am very firm in saying Dany will go dark is because it is my opinion anything less is a betrayal of the themes of non violence, the costs of war, and the punishing of the poor. Like, Robb's murder is a tragedy but the book does not shy away from the harm he does! Dany will not (should not!) be treated any different just because she's a woman; that's like the basis of feminist theory!
#a normal person would look at the mess she made of slaver's bay and go 'dude what the fuck is wrong with you.'#unfortunately jonathan snowflake of game of thrones hbo is blinded by emilia's pretty face just like d&d and emilia herself are!#anti daenerys targaryen#anti jonerys#like even if jonsa doesn't happen. they're not hooking up. there's a world i do believe jon feels a complicated kinship with her.#but that doesn't mean he's going to like her.#like if jon had settled the wildlings and been like 'this is too hard. you're all part of the night's watch now and you have no choice'#you can bet i'd be dragging his ass the way i drag hers. but he gets shanked specifically bc he *refuses* to compromise in this way.#dany is a politican. jon is an idealist. neither ultimately makes good leaders.#asks#once again sorry if this sounds mad. i'm not mad. just animated.
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politican jumpscare
#snap chats#my spring breaks started now LMAOO my ass gotta pack and DRIVE KMS#BUT THAT MEAN I GET MY CRINGE POLITICAN PLUSH YAAAY#ok bye
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"in your opinion how much longer do you think the war will last?" such good line of dialogue for the head of the bei fong family. they have so much wealth that such concerns like a 100 year war that has destroyed the lives and ways of life for the vast majority of the population just doesn't effect them.
#THIS SHOW IS GOOD!#and then aang having to play along using their impersional polite removed language#'well i'd like to defeat the firelord by...'#spoken like a politican rather than a kid with the weight of the world in their hands
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Pls pls PLEASE tell us more about your prince sniper au!! I’m already obsessed bc him and scout look so handsome🥺
I’m happy to explain!
Okay some background information:
So it starts with the moment when Bill-Bel gets into an argument with the original (mostly white) ministers of New Zealand about how even though he, a Māori man, saved all of New Zealand from “magma and nuclear war” they refuse to let him join the council and make him a minister.
They tell him because they’re sick of living down there and that’s he’s not worthy of being on there.
In his frustration, he manages to rally up the Māori iwi (tribes) of New Zealand and many of the white New Zealanders, into making him into the king.
He changes everything once he’s in control. The white New Zealanders or Pākehā get sent off to live in their own space within Aotearoa and the Māori get to having the majority their land back.
The next 29 years is quite peaceful, the local nature and wildlife grow in population back to pre colonial times and so does the Māori people. They bring back old ways of life and traditions along with more high tech gadgets (because canonically New Zealand in tf2 was made of extremely smart people).
And now onto the Sniper and Scout part of your question:
And then coming Sniper or I should rather say Mun-Dee Taumata.
He’s next in line and has only really ever known of being a Royal and living like the way he does, in a giant palace with guards always protecting him making him extremely sheltered and honestly very calm person.
He isn’t allowed to go out alone, but Mum-Dee finds his ways, always sneaking out to visit his kiwi, who’s named after the Māori goddess of loyalty Hinekepea, in his family’s Royal Aviary. She tries to protect him and gets angry whenever he comes back smelling like one of the ladies that Bill-Bel set him up with.
Oh, I should mention that the minute he turned 18; Bill-Bel was trying to get him wife so he could make an heir (no matter how many times Mun-Dee explained he was gay)
Then in the summer of 1972, out appears Mann Co. reps (All of RED Team + Miss Pauling and Mr. Bidwell) to try to make an agreement with the Aotearoa government on if they can used some of the Australium they own.
They didn’t know of the change of the government and when they arrived they were shocked to say the least. Scout especially.
The Māori people held a welcoming ceremony or a pōwhiri for the first ever manuhiri (visitors) to their home in 40 years with gifts, dance, music food, and of course, get a personal welcome from the Royal family. Mun-Dee had been extremely excited, and when he was about to do a hongi (which is we’re you touch noses together and do a handshake in welcome) with Scout, he slapped him.
It was a misunderstanding, Scout thought Mun-Dee was going to kiss him so he did some unnecessary self defense.
And that was the exact moment Mun-Dee got his first ever real crush on anyone.
And they eventually get together, Spy tries to blackmail Scout into marrying him quickly so that if Bill-Bel died mysteriously; Scout can be married to a king for political reasons. Scout just wanted Mun-Dee for who he was.
Scout meets Hinekapea and she almost kills him, more like jumped onto his back when he had been trying to make out with Mun-Dee. He leapt off and as soon as he was off of him, Hinekapea got onto Mub-Dee’s chest and made some angry sneezes at him. Mun-Dee had just thought it was cute and apologized to her for bringing Scout without warning.
Here’s a lil comic for when Hinekapea, after having a specialized kiwi home (like a catio almost) put in Mun-Dee’s room so he could always see her, treats Scout:
#tf2#team fortess 2#tf2 Sniper#tf2 scout#scout tf2#sniper tf2#sniper x scout#sniperscout#speeding bullet#tf2 au#my art#māori sniper#I REALLY LOVE THIS AU#if you can’t tell#I did a lot of research for this whole au and I feel quite confident about it#there’s no rocket in this universe so no drowned New Zealand#sniper in this au is just a lil pathetic politican/prince who has a fat gay crush on the first man who treated him like he wasn’t fragile
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This is so overwhelming, I need a queer adult to hug me and tell me it's gonna be okay
#nex benedict#none of us are safe#non binary#two spirit#trans pride#trans rights#american children are dying left and right and while that happens their politicans are busy checking whats in those kids pants#and their president is also busy funding a genocide on the other side of the world therefore killing thousands of children#its almost like they dont want the next generation to live#specially certain pll in that generation#and every shit that starts in the us ends up spreding everywhere like fucking toxic weed in a garden
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Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.
Series Masterlist
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. Dark!Coriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus, Dom!Coriolanus
Chapter 6:
It's been too long since you've been to the spa. You forgot how relaxing it is. And maybe what makes it even better is that Coriolanus is paying for it. That you can have all the treatments your little heart desires and he's footing the bill.
“It's good to see you here again. What happen, did Coriolanus and you get into a lovers spat and he cut off your spa allowance?” The esthetician asked, applying a much needed cleansing jelly mask to your face as you laid down on the comfortable bed like table.
“He's not my lover, Adara. He's actually my boss now, plus he's engaged to Livia Cardew.” You pointed out to your beloved skin goddess, the best esthetician in Capitol City.
“Oh please.” The violet and blonde streaked young lady loudly cackled. “Nobody believes that shame for a lousy minute.”
“What? But they look-” You start to say only for Adara to cut you off with, “Coriolanus looks absolutely miserable next to her in pictures. He seriously looks like he's going to strangle her.” Shaking her head and applying more of the thick vitalizing goop on your face, she adds, “And that blonde shrew might look sweet and smiley next to him but she bad mouths him every chance she gets. Some things she's said has even gone viral on Pan-Tok, Pan-Tube, and Pan-X. She even shit talked him while a bit tipsy on her friend's Pangram Live stream.”
“I didn't know this. Why didn't I know this?”
“Probably since the aspiring Senator Snow doesn't have social media and you only have a Panbook- that you haven't been on in like over a month.”
“Fuck! So she's dragging his name in the mud via social media?!”
“Yes.” Adara confirms while finishing applying your facial mask treatment. “And practically all of Panem hates her.” She informed you while putting cucumbers on your eyes for a finishing touch.
Sitting down in the stool next to your bed Adara, who was a friend of sorts to you, says, “Livia’s worse than her older brother and Livinius is always getting into shenanigans with the two Capitol losers: Odysseus Odair, the pretty boy that drinks too much, and Hector Heavensbee, the stoned cousin of Hilarious Heavensbee.”
“Wait, what? How do you know this?”
“Social media, duh.” The blonde-violet girl rolled her eyes at you, even if you couldn't see them since your eyes are closed with little cucumbers on them. “Girl, you're too young not to be on social media.” Adara seriously told you. “Listen up, after we're done with your mask we’ll do your manicure then your pedicure. And after that you're signing up for all the social media accounts.”
“Yes, I think it's overdue for me to have more social media then Panbook.” You told her, a calculating smile hinting your lips.
Oh you're going to be creating social media accounts, but solely for the purpose of finding out what damage Livia Cardew's doing to Coriolanus’ image. Once you find out, you'll have to tell him and then come up with a plan to address it.
You're hairstylist, Fabian, was currently with another client so you're scrolling on your phone; looking at all the crazy shit that Livia Cardew's been posting on Pangram, while sitting in the lobby of the high end salon. Oh God, she's such a stick up bitch. Such a shrew. She seriously posted a picture of a bubble tea while complaining that they're wasn't enough bubbles in the tea.
Oh hell…
The receptionist was sitting at the front desk, flipping thru a rag mag whenever she gasped. Whatever she saw must be shocking.
Flipping the magazine in half, she held it up to you and said in a scandalous tone, “That farce of a political pony show going on between your Coriolanus and Livia.Cardew’s going to ruin his reputation.” Waving the magazine in the are, she told you, “Look, paparazzi’s got some pictures of her drunk and stumbling on the sidewalk. The accompanying article says the picture were taken while she was ranting to her socialite friends about how her fiance’s a freak in bed that scoffs at her purity ring, asked if he could stick it up her ass to keep her virginity intact, and she even said that Coriolanus has a thing for dirty district women; chased that former singing victor all those years ago just to screw around with her before his fall semester of University.”
“What?!” You loudly exclaimed, jumping out of you seat and rushing over to the reception desk to grab that trash gossip magazine from Xandra. “Oh Andraste’s tit, let me see that!” You curse, snatching up the magazine that's freely offered to you.
As your eyes look at the damning pictures and read the article, the receptionist tells you, “That's one of the magazine's that get delivered all over Panem; even the Districts get it. Particularly the PK bases as I understand.”
“Shit…” You mutter under your breath. You feel both pissed and lightheaded at the sudden revelation of what Livia Cardew's actions mean for Coriolanus' Senate run.
Damnit…
And it was that moment that Fabian’s client left and the stylist with perfectly feathered hair came up to you. “Y/N, it's been too long.” The hairstylist greeted you with a kiss to the cheek, which you returned in kind. Leading you back to his work station, he asked, “It's been over a month since you've had your hair done. Did Coriolanus not like my work last time?”
“No, Fabian.” You shook your head. “We just got into a spat, so we weren't talking “ You explain, taking your place in the salon chair.
“I hope you worked everything out since he called to fit you in; is picking up the tab like always too.” Fabian told you while placing a colorful smock around you.
“We worked things out as best as we could considering I'm his new assistant now. I'm his new campaign manager too.”
“Oh that's wonderful. Now if only we could toss that horrible Livia into that toxic sludge river over in 8 then everything’ll be perfect.”
“Fabian, that's horrible.”
“Yes, but you know it's true. Now, what're we doing with your hair today? Blow out, keratin treatments?”
*I want an entire new look.” You told your hairstylist.
“Ooo, new look for a new era.” Fabian clapped happily.
“I want hair that says I'm a bad boss bitch.” You smirked.
“Oh, honey, I know exactly what you need. Just leave it to me.” Fabian told you before hurrying off to the supply room to grab some supplies to make your hair new and to die for.
Your hairstylist was going to give you new hair that'll be the envy of everyone in the Capitol. Your new hairstyle will even have Coriolanus down on his knees, begging you to take him back. Oh, Fabian knows that what he has planned cut and color wise for your hair’s going to drive Coriolanus up the wall with desire. That he's going to be going crazy when he sees you.
The hairstylist views it as his personal mission to make sure that his best client stays with the only man in the Capitol that encourages his girl to routinely get her hair done. Most men aren't so generous like that when it comes to expensive salon visits every handful of weeks.
After your getting your hair done, you went home and drowned yourself in endless social media posts across various platforms for Livia Cardew. It seems like some were worse then others, but none of them were any good for your best friend. As long as he's connected to her, well, his campaign's going to tank.
You saw that Festus and Persephone weren't following Livia on social media. The newlyweds, whose wedding Coriolanus dragged you a few months prior, seemed to have either never added her, stopped following her, or blocked her from their accounts. You also saw that the couple had started to follow you on the social media accounts that you created earlier in the day with Adara in the spa.
You’re done scrolling thru Livia Cardew's accounts and decide to call Coryo to tell him all about what you uncovered. After three rings he answers his phone with a professional, “Head Gamemaker Snow speaking, to whom am I speaking with?”, before he realizes it's you
“It's me, Y/N.” You tell him as you pop up on the phone’s video screen. “I thought you would've programmed my new number from my application into your phone.” You chuckle while sitting up straighter on your sofa.
“I didn't even notice it, I just hit accept hire after after looking over your education and work history.”
“Oh.” You simply nod.
Before you could even tell Coriolanus why you're calling, he gives you a dazzling smile paired with the compliment of, “I like what you've done with your hair. The new cut and color suits you, my darling rose.”
Fabian was right, the hairstyle and color he gave you was going to drive Coriolanus wild. How did he know, who knows? But right now Coryo's baby blues are flashing with interest and mirth; they're locked into your face- he's in absolute awe of your new hairstyle/color.
A lopsided grin appeared on the platinum blonde's lush lips as he suggests, “Why don't I take you out to dinner to celebrate hiring you as both the Head Assistant Gamemaker and my Campaign Manager?”
“Don't forget your PR Liaison as well, Aspiring Senator Snow.” You teased Coryo, who still hasn't styled his platinum curls yet. “Oh, I did some digging while waiting for my appointment at the salon and found out why your campaign’s tanking.”
“Well, what did you uncover, my darling?” Coriolanus asks, leaning back in his sitting chair. The one in his living room to be exact.
“The problem isn't you, but it's your fiance: Livia Cardew. Everyone hates her.”
“That doesn't surprise me; I hate the shrew too.” The imposing blonde man, who's been your best friend for nearly 2 decades, chuckled.
Shaking your head, you sadly sigh, “Well, I think she hates you more than you hate her considering she's posting a lot of hate about you.”
Coriolanus arched a perfectly shaped brow at your words, causing you to tell him the blunt truth of your discoveries. “She’s spewing shitty remarks here and there; not to mention ranting about you on her friend's Pangram Live.” You take a tiny breath, only to sigh and tell him the most damning information of all. “Oh and then there's a story and some pap pics in a very popular and well circulated rag mag that has her stumbling drunk and ranting to her friends about you wanting to stick it up her ass cause she's wearing a purity; how you have a sexual attraction to district girls too.”
“Fucking hell…” Coriolanus groans, raking his lake hands thru his platinum curls- a nervous habit of his. “That's very damning for my campaign.”
“Yes,” You nod in agreement, “it is.”
“Well, I've been wanting out of the engagement and I've found a way to end it without looking like the bag guy.” Coriolanus told you, his lips in a thin pressed line. “But I can't tell you until we're alone in my car, it's not something I want to talk about over the phone.”
A few hours later you find yourself alone in a sleek, black sedan with Coriolanus behind the driver's seat. Since it's early spring, he's in a light grey suit with a wine hued waistcoat. It pairs lovely and really makes both his platinum hair, whose curls he just lightly gelled to keep from being messy, and his cerulean eyes pop.
“You look beautiful, baby.” Coriolanus smiles, looking between you and the road, as he pulls out of the parking garage.
“Thank you, but flattery’ll get you nowhere. You already complimented me on my dress when you picked me up, no need to do it again.”
“And only you, my darling rose, has the audacity to get your feathers ruffles over receiving multiple compliments from your lover.”
“My lover?” You scoff sardonicly, rolling your perfectly made up eyes.
“Whether you want to admit it or not, it's what we are, Y/N.” Coriolanus tells you, his baritone a bit softer then usual, as his hand slides off the clutch and onto your thigh- a thigh that's covered by the peachy pink skirt of your dress. A dress that was designed for you by Tigris, that had small white roses randomly embroidered on it.
Pushing his large hand off of your thigh, you give him a leveling look and state in a solid tone, “I thought that we're childhood best friends, who had a situationship that got a bit messy, but decided to work together for your political dreams.”
“We're working on our political ambitions. Don't forget, I did promise to make you my First Lady.” The platinum man with looks rivaling that of the gods themselves had the balls to tell you, all the while taking your hand in his. With a smirk, he changed the subject by giving you his opinion on your manicure. “I quite prefer your nails long and red, baby. They look much better then the short French tips you were wearing during our month long absence from each other.”
Of course he prefers long red stiletto nails on you over the short square French tips. Man sure does love red. You're not even surprised about that.
You don't make a comment about him liking your nails, but you do comment on his little making you his First Lady remark. “Last time I checked, Head Gamemaker Snow, the First Lady's married to the President and you're engaged to Livia Cardew.” After the little reminder of his reality, you decided to twist the knife in his heart and hurt his ego (because he broke your heart) by adding in, “Oh, and right now I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth.”
Coriolanus’ Adam's apple felt thick and stuck in the hollow of his throat as a reaction to hearing your cruel words. He knows deep down in is black, head, shriveled up heart why you said that. That you're trying to hurt him because he broke your heart; his promise to you.
Except he's doing his best to right his wrong; to ensure that he keeps his promise to you.
Coriolanus’ Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows down the thickness trapped in his throat. Looking between you and the road as he weaves in and out of traffic lanes, he reveals, “I'm going to get out of my arranged engagement by framing the Cardew's for bank fraud.”
“What?” You blurt out, finding his idea to be a bit brash. “Can’t you just call off the engagement because of irreconcilable differences?”
“No, baby,” Coriolanus shook his head, “I can't just break it off due to irreconcilable differences.” He quickly switched lanes again, cutting off a car and getting honked at. “Livia’s being a frigid shrew and dragging my name in the mud; how do you think me dropping her like a hot potato’ll make me look? Hmm, how would it look for my campaign?”
Turning your head to give him an incredulous look, you ask, “So, what, you're going to destroy the family that runs the Capitol United Bank to effortlessly break off an arranged engagement and to gain sympathy votes for your campaign?”
“Yes.” The icy eyes man smiles widely, like a maniac. “It's a flawless plan, Y/N. I trust that as my right hand woman and future First Lady that I have your complete support with this.”
Honestly, it might sound horrible, but you didn't give a shit about Livia Cardew or her family. If Coriolanus had to destroy the top banking family in the country to end his engagement and save his campaign then so be it.
“You just do whatever you have to do to and when it's done I'll make sure that you come out smelling like a rose in the media.” You told the man next to you as he pulled over, without using his blinkers, into the entrance of the restaurant he's taking you to.
The Capitol Grille.
“Good.” Coriolanus nods while getting into the line for valet parking. “Tomorrow we need to start switching our banking accounts to the Capitol One Bank.”
You've been to The Capitol Grille a few times with Coryo, so when the maitre d greets you both with a smile and ushers you to a cozy table for two, while making the other patrons in line ahead of you wait, you're not surprised.
Coriolanus, like always, orders a bottle of the best wine and some glasses of water for you two. He also orders the go to appetizer for when you dine out at The Capitol Grille: shrimp cocktail. He also orders the usual for you two as well: the chef's suggestion of the slices filet mignon topped onions and wild mushrooms with cream spinach and au gratin potatoes. Oh, and he ordered the infamous Capitol made cheesecake the restaurant’s known for.
You didn't mind him doing the ordering since you two always got the same thing every time he took you out to eat at The Capitol Grille. You'd be shocked if he didn't insist on ordering, truth be told.
The waiter delivered both your glasses of water, wine, and the large shrimp cocktail to share all on one tray. Once he finishes delivering the items and pouring the wine, he assured Coriolanus and you that your food would be out shortly and left.
Coriolanus is fixing you up a small plate of shrimp cocktail and engaging in small talk with you about your upcoming job as his right hand woman in the Citadel whenever Odysseus’ voice reaches your ear from nearby as he smiles disparagingly. “I see it didn't take you too long to move on, sweetheart. But I didn't think you'd be moving on with Satan, or is he who you've been cheating with.”
“Oh, Odysseus Odair, I wish I could say seeing you while out celebrating Y/N’s new job as my assistant is a pleasant surprise, but then I'd be lying and I make it my utmost priority not to lie to or around my childhood best friend.” Coriolanus said in a very cool, calm, and collective way that has just enough zing to bite.
“Your what?” The bronze haired man asked, his voice hitched up in shock.
“I told you that I attended the Academy, Odysseus. Maybe you should've believed me instead of insisting I wasn't on the same level as you and Coryo.” You told your neighbor and new ex while gesturing between him and your Coryo with your hand.
“He what?” Coriolanus blinked his eyes slowly, like an offended cat. It reminded you of a cat you had as a child. Looking at you, he said with so much disdain in his deep baritone, “That manwhore insulted you by insisting you weren't good enough to attend the Academy?”
“Coryo, let it go.” You told him in a whisper hiss while Odysseus’ sea-green eyes bounced between you and the platinum blonde man you're dining with very suspiciously.
“I will not let it go, darling. He insulted you.” Coriolanus whisper hissed back.
Well, looks like chivalry’s not dead at all.
“I have a business meeting I need to attend, Y/N, but I'll call you later so we can talk things out.” Odysseus told you before booking it away from your table (since he didn't want to be around Coriolanus) and towards the table his father Posieden Odair, Mr. Larimer (a wealthy politician and investor) and Mr. Hearst (a wealthy newspaper mogul) was sitting at; waiting for him.
“You better not answer your phone when he calls.” Coriolanus tells you while making himself a small plate of shrimp cocktail with jerky, aggravated movements.
Grabbing a piece of shrimp from your plate and dipping it into the red cocktail sauce, you tell him, “I’ll answer it if I want to, Coriolanus. My relationship’s none of your business.”
Tossing the serving spoon back into the middle of the extravagant crystal serving bowl, causing some of the red sauce to splash up. Coriolanus face skewed up as he watched you eat your piece of shrimp. Taking his and dipping it into the sauce, he darkly chuckled, “I see you're going to play little minx and punish me for my arrangement by having a fling with the sluttiest man in all of Capitol City.”
“What's good for the goose's good for the gander.” You simply smirk, causing the man sitting across from you to nearly choke on his shrimp.
And then, as he's coughing and trying not to die from shrimp going down the wrong windpipe, Odysseus loudly tells somebody at his table to ‘Shut the hell up!’ before storming away from the table, right past yours, and out of the restaurant.
Hmm…
You wonder what happened at his table.
Coriolanus Snow, ever the gentleman, used his pristine white cloth napkin to spit his piece of shrimp that nearly made him choke and die. Folding his napkin and placing it back on his lap, he seriously told you, “He's a spoiled brat; I hope you get seeing him to punish me out of your system real fast because I don't like sharing what's mine, Y/N.”
“Last time I checked I didn't belong to you.” You smugly retorted while eating another piece of your shrimp cocktail.
Coriolanus leaned in close, nearly crossing the table, and declared in a low, dark timbre, “You’ve always been mine, baby. And, as you know, I'm going to ruin a family just to make you my wife; First Lady.”
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