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starryevermore · 4 months

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the house of snow (1) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board | ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: your parents are convinced that you will marry the king by the end of the social season. and so, too, it seems does coriolanus snow.

word count: 2,764

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: no use of y/n, you cannot stand coryo, not proofread

Coriolanus Snow’s rise to the throne was something you never expected to come to fruition. When you were younger, you remembered your peers talking about how Snow wanted to one day rule Panem. At the time, you thought it was just another wild dream of a child. Something a child would say when an adult asks what they wish to be when they grow up. “A pirate!” one might exclaim. Or, perhaps, “A painter!” The sort of thing that a sensible parent would shrug off and not dedicate anymore thought to. The Snow family, as it turned out, was not particularly sensible.

When the Former King Ravinstill died without warning, the throne was left vacant. Everyone knew that the old man had little life left in him. Yet, despite his age, he had a tendency to power through. No one thought he would have lived as long as he did, but he had. So, the Electors had not yet begun considering his replacement. No one had been prepared enough to seek candidacy. No one, except Coriolanus Snow. A few other eligible persons put forth their names, but no one garnered support quite like the young man. From a prominent family, the son of a general, had served briefly himself, intelligent, and had the financial backing of the Plinth family? There was no version of history where Snow could lose.

Within weeks of Ravinstill’s death, Snow was crowned King.

You did not care for politics, so you knew little of his reign. But your father seemed pleased, talking often and loudly about how the young Snow would restore Panem to its former glory. You weren’t so sure of that. Though you did not interact with him often in your younger years, you remembered Snow as someone who was self-serving. Who would pretend to care if only it could further his own interests. He very well might let all of Panem burn if it meant he could gain from it. But your father was quite pleased with Snow as King and, when word began to spread that Snow would be seeking a bride this next social season, your father pushed hard for you to woo the King.

“If you wish to serve your family well, my little dove, you will convince the King to marry you,” your father told you the moment he heard the news.

You all but scoffed. “I hardly think I am the sort of woman he wishes to marry. A man like him would want someone meek, someone who would not challenge his authority. We hardly ever agreed on the schoolyard, and for that reason, he never considered me a friend. How could he ever see me as a wife?”

Your father’s eyes narrowed at you. “It is your responsibility, then, to make yourself small so that he may choose you.”

“I would rather die than sacrifice my ideals, Papa,” you said. “Why can I not vie for any other’s attention? I know Lord Plinth quite well. I’ve always enjoyed his company. It would be easy to win his heart and have our family set for life. Certainly easier than winning over the King.”

He sneered, “The only thing the Plinth family is good for is their money. I want to be respected. We would be little more than social pariahs if you wed the Plinth boy.”

“I shall not marry the King—”

Your mother stepped in before you could say something you might come to regret. She placed a hand on your arm, directing your attention to her. “Never mind that now. There is still time before the season begins for minds to be changed.”

“I shall not change my mind, Mama.”

She looked over at your father, who was the perfect picture of irate. She looked back to you. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. Let us go clear our minds, yes? We should go order new gowns at the modiste before everyone else floods her with demands.”

“You cannot distract me with fashion.”

“But you would do well to pretend that I have.”

Your efforts to convince your parents that you would not, under any circumstance whatsoever, marry Coriolanus Snow did not do anything for you. Despite your best efforts, you now stood in the palace for the King’s Ball, wearing the most beautiful powder blue gown fresh from the modiste, trying and failing to hide from your mother, so that you might delay her forcing you onto Snow. For now, though, she had been distracted by a conversation with Lady Dovecote about…whatever mothers talked about. Surely some scheme that would end with either you or Clemensia as Snow’s betrothed. You rolled your eyes at the thought.

A familiar voice said your name. When you turned, you were greeted by the sight of Sejanus Plinth, holding two glasses of lemonade. He handed one to you, remarking, “I never knew you to be one to hide from the crowd.”

“I shall hide from the crowd when my mama is convinced I shall become Queen by the end of the season.”

“Ah.” Sejanus took a drink and laughed. “Strange, isn’t it? Seeing everyone we grew up with vying for Coryo’s attention.”

Coryo? Oh, yes. That was the nickname those close to Snow would call him. You had forgotten that the two were friends. Hmm, perhaps you could use that information the next time your parents try to force a connection with Snow. Something about how getting close to his friend might make him interested in you. “That it is. It seems as though everyone has lost their minds just for a glimpse of the crown.”

Sejanus laughed again. Then he looked at you a little more seriously, and said, “If I am honest, I am surprised you are not among those fighting for Coryo’s attention.”

Your brows pinched together. “You think I am interested in climbing the social ladder? Lord Plinth, you should know me well enough that I care more for a love match than gaining a title.”

“No, no. That is not what I meant. I remember in school that you and Coryo always had a sort of connection. Truthfully, I thought one of you might have acted on it sooner when you entered society.”

“The only connection we had was that of hatred. We despised each other.”

Sejanus shook his head, his curls bouncing. “I do not think that was true for Coryo. He liked that you challenged him. He has never been the sort of person who liked people who switch their position when the tide seems to turn. He likes people who are firm in their convictions.”

You laughed. “He’s told you this?”

“Not in so many words. But you have to wonder why he always sought you out.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is crueler than we all think.”

Sejanus moved to protest, but another beat him to it. “Or perhaps you judge without truly knowing.”

You froze. Oh, how you had hoped that you could have avoided him tonight! Damn Sejanus and his friendship with Snow. So much for him being your safe haven during these balls. You might as well have lit a beacon leading straight to you. Alas, you did not want Snow to see the hatred you had brewing for him. Even if you did not like the man, you would be a social pariah if you made such feelings known to him. So, you painted on a smile as you turned to look at Snow. “Or perhaps I made an educated guess supported by the evidence of past interactions.”

Snow snorted, turning his gaze to Sejanus. “Always so quick with a response, she is.”

Sejanus glanced at you, a knowing look in his eyes. If you were a mindreader, you could imagine him gloating in his mind about how he was right, that this was a sign that Snow cared for you in some way. But you only knew it to be yet another indicator that you and Snow could never, ever, get along. “Her wit has never dulled.”

“Should we see, then, if her dance skills are still equally sharp?”

Sejanus looked at you again, a brilliant smile on his face. Oh, how you wished to wipe that look off. This was not proof of anything. This did not prove his point. “I could not think of anything better.”

Damn you, Sejanus Plinth. Damn you.

Snow held his arm out for you to take. You stared at it, not moving. “In order to dance with a lady, you must ask her. I do not recall you asking me anything.”

Snow glanced just beyond you. When you turned your head to follow his gaze, you saw your mother and Lady Dovecote watching the interaction carefully. As you looked back at Snow, he said, “Your mother would be disappointed if you did not dance with me.”

“It is amazing you became King when you are so lacking in manners.” But you knew your mother—the entirety of the ton, perhaps—would consider you insane to turn the King down so openly. So you took his arm and let him lead you onto the dance floor.

He snorted. “You are the only person who speaks so freely to me.”

“Ah, so this is one last dance before my execution? How kind. Perhaps I was wrong about your cruelty.”

“There is much you are wrong about,” Snow said. You had reached the dance floor. The crowd parted around you, allowing you and Snow to take the middle of the floor. You faced him, allowing his hand to fall to you waist. You placed one hand on his shoulder, and let him take the other in his free hand. “It would be far too much of a shame to take your life.”

“Such a kind and gentle king.”

“Only for those who deserve it.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother miming for you to smile. You fought the urge to sneer instead. Even if you would rather do anything else than be courted by Coriolanus Snow, acting out would not do you any favors. If you had any hope in finding a love match, you had to at least be cordial to him. So you smiled as prettily as you could. But you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Then perhaps you should go see a physician. You seem to have lost your mind.”

To your surprise, Snow laughed. The sound almost scared you. When was the last time you heard Snow laugh? An actual laugh, at that. None of his snorts of derision or half-hearted chuckles when he was trying to charm someone. Had you ever heard him laugh before? You tried to wrack your brain, but you could not recall anything. In school, he had always been so serious—focused more on using the tools available to him to climb the social ladder rather than being a kid like everyone else. Though, you supposed, Snow was a far cry from everyone else.

The music began to play, and Snow spun you around the dance floor. As you turned, you locked eyes with Sejanus. He wore a large grin on his face, seemingly sure that you and Snow were making nice. Why else would he have laughed at something you said? You wished you could yell out to Sejanus, tell him that he was dead wrong.

“What is it that people say? Something about love driving people mad?”

This time, you did roll your eyes. “Oh, come off it. You and I both know perfectly well that you do not care for me. I hardly understand why you’re even entertaining this nonsense, if for no other reason than to torture me.”

Snow considered you. After a long moment of silence, he said, “I seek a bride who will produce me an heir. There are few women here who meet my standards. A woman of good breeding, from a respectable family, and intelligent enough to keep up with me. Someone who will be a good Queen and a good mother.”

“Someone that you can control.” You scoff. “You truly must see a physician, Your Majesty, if you think that I will fall in line with whatever you ask of me.”

His lips curled into a grin. Your stomach churned. “Not yet.”

The next morning, your mother promptly reported that you had danced with Coriolanus Snow not once, not twice, but three times to your father. To say he had been pleased was something of an understatement. He was certain that Snow would soon be reaching out to discuss a proposal. It did not matter how much you tried to downplay the situation—explain that he was only dancing with you for some other reason than him wishing to marry you. Your parents minds were made up. By the end of the season, you were to be Queen of Panem.

“It’s just the nerves,” your mother dismissed as you sat in the drawing room, waiting for any suitor to call on you. “You will be more than confident once you are wed.”

You ground your teeth together. “I do not wish to marry Coriolanus Snow. I would marry anyone else. I would let you or Papa pick anyone else in the ton and I would not let out a single complaint. I cannot marry that man.”

Something just beyond you caught your mother’s attention. Your father, you supposed. “You should not say such things—” she began to say. Of course. Of course she would say that.

“Why not? It is true. I would be miserable with him. I would rather die than be his bride, bear his children. Frankly, forcing me to marry him may as well be a death sentence.”

“Dear, you do not truly mean that—”

“And you must not know me at all if you think I am not being completely, and utterly, truthful right now. Coriolanus Snow is the last man I would ever wish to marry.”

Your mother leaned in close to you, hissing, “Stop talking right now, young lady.”

A frown settled on your face. Why was she so bothered about you speaking so freely? There was no one in the room but you, her, and a maid. Perhaps she was concerned about the maid spreading gossip with other maids and that slowly enveloping the ton. It wasn’t a non-possibility, to be sure. But why was she acting so…scandalized by your words?

Unless…

You turned your head toward the entrance of the room. There should Coriolanus Snow, dressed in a dark red suit, holding a bouquet of white roses. Your mouth went dry. Oh, why does he keep showing up when you least expect it? “The butler typically announces when a guest has arrived,” you said.

You couldn’t read his face. A part of you wondered if you had offended him. You didn’t particularly care about offending him, but you also knew that such an act could have dire consequences on you marrying anyone else. “He was going to, but I wanted my arrival to be a surprise.” He took a step closer to you, holding out the roses. “I just had these freshly picked from my garden.”

A part of you wanted to smack the roses out of his hands, but you had already embarrassed your mother enough in front of Snow. You took the roses, yet couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “I cannot believe a man like you could grow something so beautiful.”

Your mother let out a loud—obviously fake—laugh. “Oh, isn’t she just funny? She always says the silliest things.”

Snow chuckled. He smiled at your mother—the sort of smile that your stomach twist into knots. Like he knew something no one else did, and he was reveling in that. “It is one of her more…charming traits.” He turned his attention back to you. “As lovely as this is, I came to ask if you would like to promenade with me in the square.”

Oh, Snow. Why was he so good at backing you into corners? You took a breath and passed the bouquet to the maid so she could put them in a vase. “That would be nothing short of a delight.”

He held out his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his bicep, your nails digging in. If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned down so that you could only hear him whisper, “It seems like you fall in line much easier than you would like to believe.”

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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corioswife · 4 months

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hey, bestie! I love your writing, it's just a chef kiss mwah! If I can request a fic! Imagine the reader being kinda of a femme fatale, and popular with her peers because of her beauty. -Coriolanus develops a puppy crush on her when he sees her in the halls, but one day the reader notices him, and talks to him, and after that, he's lovestruck and slowly becomes obsessed with her. Leaving cute notes and flowers at her locker and letters. The rest of the story, you can control and write.

The reader is like Jennifer from Jennifer's body but ignore the succubus part.

thank you love, i love this req sm! 🎀 i tried my best to capture everything as my fics aren’t usually too long !! nsfw 18+ skip if uncomfortable

Coriolanus Snow x Femme Fatal!Reader

Coriolanus Snow, the undeniably charming student at Capitol University, couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He was smitten with your beauty and the alluring way you carried yourself, captivating everyone with your grace and presence.

As the days passed, Coriolanus grew bolder and began leaving cute notes and flowers at your locker, hoping to catch your attention. His heart raced every time he thought of you, and he found himself losing focus during classes, consumed by thoughts of you.

One day, you finally notice him. He's sitting alone in the library, head buried in a book, looking oh-so-adorable. You walk up to him, feeling the weight of your beauty and charm, and strike up a conversation.

You engage in a casual conversation with him, unaware of the effect you're having on him. The more you talk, the more infatuated he becomes. His heart races, and he struggles to maintain eye contact as his thoughts wander towards intimate scenarios involving the two of you.

As the conversation continues, You sense something different about Coriolanus. His eyes are brighter, his voice is softer, and he seems a bit flustered. You sense his longing and desire, and a spark of curiosity ignites within you.

You continue to engage with him, teasing and flirting, unaware of the depth of his affection for you. As the conversation deepens, so does his passion, and he finds himself struggling to keep his desires in check.

Coriolanus is on the verge of confessing his feelings for you, but something holds him back. He wants to express his love, but is too shy and self-conscious. He's torn between his desire for you and his fear of rejection.

Unbeknownst to Coriolanus, you start to feel a strange connection with him. His shyness and hesitation only serve to heighten your curiosity about him. As the conversation winds down, you find yourself wanting more from this enigmatic individual who has captured your attention so thoroughly.

As the night comes to a close, Coriolanus finally finds the courage to confess his feelings for you. His voice trembles slightly as he tries to find the words to express himself, but finally, he blurts out, " I'm in love with you. "

You stare at Coriolanus, barely able to believe what you're hearing. You are deeply moved by his honesty and vulnerability, and you find yourself falling for him even deeper.

" I'm falling for you too " you whisper, your heart racing in anticipation of what might come next. As the two of you stand there in the silence of the night, you realize that your lives have just irrevocably changed.

The two of you embrace, your bodies pressing together as you share a tender kiss. You can feel the heat and desire radiating off of him, and you know that this moment will be one you'll cherish forever.

" My room is just upstairs " Coriolanus whispers into your ear. His voice is hoarse with desire, and you can't help but shiver at the thought of what might happen next.

As the two of you make your way upstairs, the anticipation and desire building within you both is almost unbearable. The door to your room closes behind you, and the two of you are finally alone together.

Coriolanus kisses you deeply, his tongue seeking entry into your mouth as his hands roam over your body. Heat surges through you as he pushes you against the door, pinning you there with his strength and desire.

You moan into the kiss, arching your back against him. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull him closer, needing more of his touch. The feeling of his skin against yours is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.

As if he's reading your mind, Coriolanus's hands begin to explore the most intimate parts of your body. His fingers dance over your sensitive skin, teasing and tantalizing until you're ready to beg for more.

Finally, Coriolanus moves his mouth from your lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as his fingers continue their journey. You gasp and arch your neck into his mouth, wanting more of his touch. This is a feeling unlike anything you've ever known before.

You gasp as Coriolanus undoes his pants, freeing his aching erection. He positions himself between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly positions against your entrance.

" Please " you whisper, your voice trembling with need. " I want you. "

Coriolanus pulls back, only to thrust forcefully inside you, hitting your sweet spot with a force that steals your breath.

His fingers digging into your hips, his mouth trailing kisses down your neck, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that drives you to the brink.

" Come for me " he demands. Your body shudders, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your name, a moaned plea, falls from his lips as he feels your walls clenching around him.

" Coriolanus... " You whisper his name, your voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. He groans, his body shuddering as he releases himself into you, filling you completely.

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kittykats505 · 4 months

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18+!! mdni, please, i beg of you.

cw; swearing, fingering (f. receiving), sex, exhibitionism (unintentional), degrading language (1 use of slut), dare?? idk how to write these things.

i’m going off of that thing in page 194 in tbosas when coriolanus mentions that he had a moment with a girl behind the train station as a dare from festus!!

it was so dark and cold outside, coriolanus muttering random phrases into your ear, you couldn’t even see him. you could definitely smell the posca on his breath and feel his calloused fingers prodding at your sopping core through your underwear.

“jus’ so- so fuckin’ needy… givin’ me looks from across the room, practically beggin’ me to take you out here.” he whispered into your ear, his voice so breathy and hoarse.

soft whimpers escaped your lips as you knocked your head forward, resting it on his shoulder as he stroked you through your underwear, his fingers moving them to the side and letting himself slip his fingers inside your dripping core, his thumb toying with your clit.

he groaned as your pussy squeezed his fingers, walls clenching around them as he pumped them in and out rhythmically. “go- good fuckin’ girl, gonna fill you up… gonna make you feel so good, baby..”

and he meant every word!

he had you up against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist. you could finally see his pretty face as the train that pulled into the station provided a dim light. his blonde curls all sweaty, some sticking to his forehead, his plump lips curled into a smirk as he watched you writhe and whimper as his cock pushed into you, stretching you out, hitting that sweet spot that was oh so deep inside!

“so fuckin’ pretty, that feel good? huh? fuckin’ slut, lettin’ me do this to you in public, just couldn’t wait f’ me?” he muttered into your shoulder, his head burying itself in the crook of your neck as his cock twitched inside of you, his grip on your hips tightening, thumbs leaving pretty bruises that would last weeks.

his hips stuttered as he picked up his pace, relentlessly pounding inside as he neared his release.

your head knocked back against the wall as he rutted inside, eyes closed, you were a moaning mess! he had to stuff his fingers inside your mouth to shut you up!

his other free hand crawled down from your hip to play with your clit once more, overstimulating you till he had you on the verge of your climax. “c’mon baby, ‘s alright, you can keep going.” he mumbled into your shoulder, moans escaping his lips as he used whatever energy he had left to pound into you.

his cock twitched and twitched inside of you, hitting that sweet spot one more time before filling you right up with his release! he pulled out almost immediately, pulling your panties back over your cunt, pulling his own trousers up and giving you a pat on the head.

one moment ago, he was so caring and kind to you, the next, he didn’t care! and when you went back into the party, you noticed festus giving coriolanus a large sum of money.

it didn’t seem to bother you, you knew coriolanus liked it, the way his cock twitched inside of you told you he liked it. even if he denied it, you knew it was more than a dare to him!

but the way he acted as if he didn’t care disgusted you, you’d let that be known the next time you saw him.

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #fanfic #fan fiction #smut #imagine #read

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mitsuki91 · 2 months

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Okay, just so you all know, daddy!Coryo live now in my mind permanently, and of course the only reasonable thing to do is set him free by writing something...

I will share one little wip I wrote in my tiny lunch break:

Coriolanus dropped another piece of meat with the classic clang and watched the hybrid devour it. 1.57 seconds. A new record.

"Tell me," replied the professor, his tone neutral to mask his irritation, "What should I do?"

He heard Dr Gaul's clang.

"I have decided that your little songbird will sing at the opening ceremony of the next Games. You remember, don't you? Lucy Gray Baird."

Coriolanus' heart lost a beat.

Determined not to show any emotion, he slammed his tongs back into the funnel. Clang.

She won't find her, he was thinking, frantic, trying not to panic.

She won't find her, and so…

"The girl is already on her way, with all her family," something detached itself inside him, like a piece of floating soul as he struggled to carry on his mechanical gestures. Another piece of flesh. Another clang. The stopwatch. 2.17 seconds. "I thought, as her former Mentor, you were the right person to host the Coveys... And convince your little Lucy Gray to play and sing for us in early July."

She found her.

His heart was beating furiously in his chest. Clang. 2.54 seconds.

She found her.

When did she return?

"... With a smile on her face, possibly. Accompanied by her family so that the world can see how much a Victor is able to enjoy life, after being pardoned from Panem”

She's bringing her to me.

Lucy Gray... To his house? With the Coveys? Little Maude Ivory... CC... Tam Amber? Barb Azure?

Oh god.

If she was back... What had she told the others?!

Would they hate him, all of them?

And he was supposed to convince her to sing for Panem? With a smile on her face?

Another clang. His mind raced in circles, and Coriolanus had to force himself to maintain a neutral expression, to carry out his task, to feign indifference...

Could this have been a second chance?

"Ah, there's one small detail," Dr Gaul continued, indifferent to his inner screams, "I don't think it will be a problem for you, however it's better that the public doesn't know... You see, as a matter of reputation."

"What?" asked Coriolanus, his tone always neutral.

Clang. That ugly rat face again. 1.97 seconds.

"Your songbird had a baby," replied Dr Gaul, tone as always sing-songy. Coriolanus stopped with the tongs in midair, rigid. Had he understood correctly?! “It's not good for Capitol City to be aware of the... Poor composure of the people of the Districts. Beasts that mate without even waiting until they come of age…”

Coriolanus felt himself rocking and had to appeal to every last ounce of self-control to remain upright and still. Not to be seen. Not to collapse.

Lucy Gray, with a child?

Lucy Gray... Lucy Gray with...?

"... Are you all right, Mr Snow?"

Coriolanus widened his smile and beat the tongs into the funnel with a loud clang. He took the time. 2.80 seconds.

"Well, I'll be getting baby items," he replied, posed and courteous and light as ever.

Inside, he was filled with fury.

Who dared?!

Let me know if you are curious 😂😂

#coriolanus snow #fan fiction #daddy coryo #snowbaird #my fics #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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take-it-on-the-run · 4 months

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Burn

Sejanus Plinth, Coriolanus Snow

Looking back at it, Sejanus should've seen his fate coming at him like a brick through a window

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: Angst (?), AU where Sejanus lives and outsmarts Coryo, OOC!Sejanus (he has a spine), guest appearance from Lucy Gray

Characters: Sejanus Plinth, Coriolanus Snow, Lucy Gray Baird

Anonymous requested: "An au of where Sejanus lives instead of dies but finds out coryo betrayed him (his only true friend betrayed him and left him heartbroken/extremely hurt) so he goes home and seeks comfort from burning that photo of him and snow (kind of inspired by the song burn from Hamilton) but he burns the photo and then sobs his poor heart out"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: This was my first ever request! I want to thank the person who requested this fic for putting some faith in me to write something! I'm not great at writing angst when it comes to people I don't know a lot about (Sejanus) but I hope this isn't too horrible. As always, any constructive criticism is welcome with open arms!

Sejanus Plinth hadn’t had many friends as he grew up.

He’d come from the Districts, and his beginnings weren’t lost to him. His family, on the other hand, acted as if they’d been born in the Capitol and hadn’t only been there for ten years.

When he transferred to the Academy, his beginnings were certainly spotlighted by his classmates. People turned away from him, whispering in each other’s ears as he walked by; he was an outsider, through and through.

Sure, people talked to him, walked with him in the halls, and laughed when he made jokes, but no one close enough he’d call his friend.

The money that came attached to the Plinth name was a blessing, but sometimes it was more of a bubble surrounding him. People only talked because of his name, only walked because of his name, and only laughed because of his name. At the end of the day, he’d go home to a house full of nothing but empty people and return to a school that only wanted to know him because of the Plinth prize.

At a mere eight years old, he’d thought of disappearing for the first time, until a boy in his class sat down and offered him a gumdrop.

It was a small gesture, but compared to the ridicule Sejanus had been under for his first months in the Capitol, it showed him that there was at least one soul in the sea of vultures surrounding him.

Sejanus had learned the boy’s name was Coriolanus, but only his grandma’am called him that, so it was simply Coryo.

Coryo didn’t mind much of what the other kids thought when the two of them started to study together in the library, sending a brief, cold glare toward anyone who talked loud enough for him to hear.

He hadn’t known it at the time, but the only person he’d call a friend had come to school with that gumdrop for a reason, but, until their final year in the Academy together, Sejanus was content with the idea of Coryo being his only friend.

When it finally came time for the two of them to graduate, and for the Plinth prize winner to be announced, he knew this year was different.

Greed leaked from every last person in the room, including the boy Sejanus befriended all those years ago. Even when it was announced that there was a final test, one Sejanus knew was coming, his friend barely blinked.

“You will each be assigned a tribute from the Games to mentor,” Professor Highbottom’s voice bellowed as he paced in front of the group of students, “and depending on how each of you does in your mentoring, your chances of winning the Plinth prize,” his steely eyes flickered to Sejanus before returning to the group at large, “will be greatly affected.”

People murmured around him, being quickly silenced by Highbottom’s finger in the air.

Sejanus nervously shifted his eyes to his friend, looking for someone to see just how insane this entire idea was, but was met with the side of his head as Clemensia Dovecote whispered something to him. The both of them laughed, Coryo wiping the smirk off of his face with his hand before looking back to their teacher.

Looking back at it, he should’ve seen his fate coming like a brick through a window.

Professor Highbottom announced mentors and their tributes right before the Reaping was displayed on the large screen in front of the class.

Marcus, was his tribute’s name, and Sejanus tuned the rest of what Highbottom was saying out - without even having to look, his heart dropped to his knees as District 2’s Reaping was screened above him.

District 2 Male, Marcus; another boy who Sejanus had befriended.

When the camera panned to the young man, Sejanus craned his neck to look at his former friend. His hands were swollen, his hair shorter, and his clothes were the customary masonry uniform of District 2; but looking at him felt like a window to his past life. His face remained the same as it always had, the small mole near his right ear almost acting as a way for Sejanus to prove that this was who he remembered. Who’s spot he could’ve easily been in if his family hadn’t transferred to the Capitol.

Marcus wouldn’t meet his eyes when they met again for the first time in ten years.

He looked at Sejanus through the metal bars, at his hand outstretched with food, and turned away silently. He didn’t give him a second glance, even after he eventually accepted the food through another tribute.

Marcus didn’t even get a chance to defend his own life.

A stupid tour of the Games’ arena, meant for strategizing, tore that away from him.

The explosion went off, and in a flash, Marcus was gone. Coryo and his tribute were covered in smokey debris, and all the screaming made Senjanus’ head practically explode. He turned back to see Coryo pulling his tribute out from underneath the rubble, yelling at them to run for the exit. He spun, looking around for Marcus, but deep down he knew he’d already run; so that’s what Sejanus did; he ran as fast as his legs would carry him as he waived the exit route to everyone trying to escape.

In the days leading up to the Games, Sejanus let himself think - hope - Marcus had escaped Panem somehow. Done something he only could dream of.

That hope was crushed the moment he saw Marcus hanging by his arms on a rock in the arena. His face was disfigured, and blood leaked from every part of him, landing drop by drop in a large pool far beneath him. The others barely flinched as they found their tributes, waiting for an alarm bell to sound.

Again, he turned to the only other person he could’ve called a friend, for some semblance of comfort, and instead saw he too was looking for his tribute.

Sejanus knew Coryo had felt something for that District 12 girl, probably before his friend realized it. Every time she spoke, his head turned to attention, taking in everything she said. He wanted to pretend that he didn’t see their hands interlaced as they went to preview the arena, but he couldn’t.

Coriolanus Snow had a heart, just not one to share.

The strings holding his heart in place buckled, and Sejanus swore that his mind, body, and heart were acting on their own accord.

Before he could pull back his words like he had all these years, he was screaming at the rest of the mentors in front of their screens. At the stupid man waiving his microphone around. At the Capitol, the formality of it all, all of Panem for existing in the first place.

At Coryo.

“Monsters!” He felt blood rush to his face as he jabbed his finger at everyone in the auditorium, “all of you, are monsters!”

No one spoke a word, yet all eyes were focused on him as he stumbled away from the stage, his stomach churning and trying to empty itself.

Not one person stopped him from running out of the room, it was like his words didn’t meet their ears.

It was only when Coryo was practically dragging him from the arena that night, tooth and nail, did Sejanus thought his words reached someone. When he felt Coryo’s hands rip him from Marcus’ body, away from the friend his family had forced him to leave behind, did he think that just maybe he cared about him at all.

The rest of that night went down so quickly, Sejanus could swear it was a nightmare; if only it weren’t for Bobbin’s death being broadcast the next morning.

As he watched Coryo bash the tribute’s head in, over, and over, and over, and over again, he felt his heart stop. Not out of loneliness, jealousy, or even desperation; but out of pure, blood-freezing, fear.

After that night, Sejanus locked himself away until his punishment for breaking into the arena came.

Being shipped to District 12 to serve as a Peacekeeper for the next twenty years of his life.

A light sentence is what his father called it.

He heard through the grapevine that Coryo’s tribute, his performer from District 12, had cheated death and managed to win the Games.

What was he feeling in that moment? Joy? Pride? Rage?

Fear?

As he stepped on the Peacekeeper train heading to District 12, their eyes connected almost instantly, and he swore he could feel the blood splattering onto his hands same as the night in the arena.

He wouldn’t admit it to himself at the time, but he felt his heart falter with relief as he saw Coryo’s familiar face blankly staring back at him, curving into a polite, but empty, smile.

Even after they’d gone and seen Lucy Gray, Coryo’s performer, Sejanus still told himself that he meant something to the boy he’d grown up with. That, if he were caught sneaking away to talk with rebels again, he would come to his aid.

“What are you doing?”

It was a simple enough question, one that someone passing by wouldn’t remember seconds after they’d heard it, but to Sejanus, it plagued his lungs with smoke as he fought the urge to run, turning away from Coryo with an empty jabberjay cage in his hands.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sejanus stated, surprised his voice didn’t raise any octaves.

“I’ve seen you, meeting with some of the Districts, whispering, don’t you think getting three of them killed was enough?”

The violent scene of Coryo shooting down that girl like an animal, and the carnage that followed flashed in his mind, almost drowning out the noise of a jabberjay’s record button being flicked on.

Like a brick through a window.

“So, you’re going to pretend like you haven’t been helping out any kind of rebel group in your free time?” Coryo asked him again, this time, in a harsher tone that was more accusatory than curious.

Sejanus balled his hands resting on the workbench in front of them, turning to his accuser as blood crept its way up his neck.

“You have never been where they are,” he whisper-yelled to the boy beside him as he felt his heart shatter to pieces once more, “we’ve both got it all, so how the hell would we know anything about their side of the story? People are starving as we do patrols, and we can’t so much as look at them without being punished.” He took a step closer to Coryo, to the jabberjay he knew was recording them, “and your girl? That Lucy Gray? Her life can’t be too different from these people we see out here. I’ve seen the way you look at her, the stolen moments, the way you almost beat that Billy Taupe to death because he was harassing her. No Peacekeeper in their right mind would do that out of simple pride for their job, Coriolanus.”

The boy beside him faltered for a moment as his full name slid off of Sejanus’ tongue, replaced with frustration as his thumb hovered over the jabberjay’s recorder controls.

Sejanus left without another word, turning the corner and waiting for the sound he knew he was going to hear.

Crack.

The jabberjay that Coriolanus had tried to use against him was as dead as his heart was.

And now, as he sat in a small cabin far outside the reach of the Capitol, a friend who’d been deemed dead along with him, strumming on her guitar, he opened the box he dragged from his barracks that day.

A faintly crinkled photo of students, both standing proud in their red uniforms, stared back at him. He didn’t know what had become of the boy standing next to him; the one he called Coryo, then Coriolanus, but tears slipped down his cheeks nonetheless. The strumming of the guitar stopped as the bright girl across the fire looked at him with pity, not saying a word.

His fingers tightened around the photo, distorting the two people in it. He couldn’t tell himself that was him, and he couldn’t say the blond next to him chose the Capitol over their friendship. These were two different people, friends, who had only had one another as they’d grown up in a climate that rejected them both.

He dipped the photo into the fire, watching as flames crawled over the only reminder that once, he had a friend, someone who wouldn’t ridicule him for his upbringing or his standing. Someone who, if fate had allowed it, may have held their friendship higher than his greed for power.

Sejanus Plinth hadn’t had many friends when he’d finally grown up. Only a girl sitting across from him, strumming away on her guitar, gently muffling his quiet sobs as he let the photo burn to ash.

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saberlight1 · 4 months

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orr

a fluffy lucy gray fic

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issacharmastersdp18 · 12 days

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Okay, so…

I like Tom Blyth’s portrayal.

Nothing wrong with it, or him.

HOWEVER

I am so fucking tired of all the President Snow merch everywhere being 99.99% Tom and 0.01% Donald. (The gifs too)

Also

The “I can fix him” and “President Snow apologist” stuff is out of hand.

The story is set in stone. We’re long passed the opportunity for helping him not become an oligarch.

As much as I love Coriolanus, and always will, I don’t apologize for anything he did. None of that was okay. It’s not forgivable. In fact, he probably wouldn’t think it is either. Understanding how he becomes the man we know and knowing how he thinks, understanding that he’s not “just an evil old sadistic bastard” and has a traceable thought process… That’s not excusing, apologizing, or forgiving.

Having “the greater good” in mind when murdering, torturing, trafficking people… that doesn’t make any of it any less wrong. And any of these young people who think otherwise… the people who apologize… they missed the point and I am worried for them. I am worried they will ignore very real red flags in real people and stay in unhealthy, and even dangerous, relationships.

Whether you believe it’s real love or not, Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were a toxic couple. Whether you wanted them to work out or not, they just never could. They are not relationship goals. You want a less toxic Hunger Games relationship? Katniss and Peeta have their issues, but they’re much closer to couple goals. Finnick and Annie also come to mind. We see less of them, but they, as a couple, seem reasonably non-toxic.

You want Coriolanus to have a healthy relationship with someone? Fanfiction. Can’t find it, or one you like? Make your own. Share it, or don’t.

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hidden-poet · 19 days

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What type of female archetype do you prefer to read in antihero/dark male protagonist stories?

#ask #writting #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #fan fiction #please help #would you rather #joel miller

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mega-aulover · 1 year

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Fletcha

Summary: Katniss believes herself to be cursed, as everyone she’s loved is killed by King Snow. Until one day she’s orphaned and she finds an old wizard who tells her she’s the key to solving the mystery behind her father’s disappearance and her unnatural second sight. King Snow wants her dead because he knows Katniss is the only one who can destroy him.

Rated M: for violence - Fantasy AU, HG Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Magic, Time Travel, Wizard Crane, Wizard Haymitch, Magical Creatures, Magical Katniss, Good versus Evil, Everyone thinks Katniss is a boy, Peeta is a Prince, Soul Mates, BAMF Katniss Everdeen, Transfiguration / Birds, Mind Meld, battles

Chapter 16: In the Future Crane lost his power. Haymitch has discovered Ryker's abilities. In the Past, Katniss has been captured but by who? And now we discover who it is.

READ HERE AO3 & FFN

Thank you to my beta @jroseley who was surprised by this week's chapter. This is dedicated to my bestie @norbertsmom who I believe deserves diamonds and love. I recommend dropping by and giving her some love because she's awesome.

#Fletcha #Fletcha Chapter 16 #Fantasy #HG Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Katniss Everdeen #Peeta Mellark #Haymitch Abernathy #Finnick Odair #coriolanus snow #Seneca Crane

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starryevermore · 1 month

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the house of snow (12) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

chapter summary: you can’t believe that this is truly a good thing.

word count: 2,822

chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, a hint of fluff, a hint of angst, pet name (petal), not proofread

note: ok the smut isn’t the greatest bc i’ve been out of commission for a while but hopefully it gets better as the series progresses

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

You tried to time your breathing with each tick of the grandfather clock in a desperate plea to not have a meltdown on your wedding night. Your new lady’s maid had just left you after helping you remove your gown. Now, you were left waiting, wearing only a silky red robe, for Coryo to arrive. You fought the urge to bite down on your fingernails. Why had your mother said anything about what your wedding night would be like? With the way your nerves were grating on you, you almost wished you were going into this with blissful ignorance.

You crossed the room and stood in front of the large window that overlooked the grounds. Breathing in time to the ticks wasn’t doing you any good, so perhaps occupying your mind with the outside world would help. But as you looked over the rose gardens and the stables and the distant pond, your mind kept trailing back to where you were, what you were wearing, and what was going to happen.

A pair of cold hands settled on your waist. You yelped, jerking away. When you turned, ready to strike, your husband stood before you. Husband. What a strange thing to call Coryo now. You had known this day was coming, but now that it was here…It felt different. Not like you would have expected.

Coryo raised his hands and took a step back. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, petal,” he said.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” you said, adjusting your robe to cover you more. It mattered little, of course, but it brought you some comfort.

“My apologies,” he said. He sounded sincere enough. Could he be sincere? If you could believe your father, that Coriolanus had asked for your hand three times before he was told yes on the fourth, maybe he could. Unless it was all an elaborate ruse, some way for him to lord this final victory over your head. The one time he could truly win.

“It’s alright.” It wasn’t. It was. How could one man—how could Coryo—scramble your thoughts like this?

Satisfied that you weren’t upset with him, he took a step toward you again. You fought the urge to back yourself against the window, pray that it might fall out and take you with it. He raised his hand, caressing your face. You allowed yourself to lean into it. Your eyes fluttered shut as he stroked his thumb over the swell of your cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You fought to keep your mouth from falling open. Love? Did he truly? You weren’t sure how much you believed it. When you were still in school, you once told Sejanus you were sure Snow had a heart of ice. The idea that he could love anyone…It felt laughable.

“I love you, my beautiful wife,” he repeated.

Were you supposed to say it back? It would have aided your act, to be sure. But you were half-certain that if you said those three words with even an ounce of insincerity, he would know. He would know, and you would be left dealing with whatever horrible aftermath he would deal you.

His lips pressed against your forehead. “I just wanted you to know.”

Maybe you should’ve said it back, if only to lessen the blow. Because Coryo looked stricken as you said, “Please…don’t hurt me.”

He pulled away, his hands falling your shoulders. If it was to brace himself, or to keep you from crumbling, you weren’t sure. “What? Why would you think I—?”

“My mama said that this…hurts. That it can hurt. That women seldom feel pleasure from it.”

Rage flickered in his pale blue eyes. “And she thought I would hurt you?”

“I…She just wanted me to be prepared for what might happen.”

“Petal, for as long as I’m alive, I would never let you be hurt, not by my hand or anyone else’s. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise. Am I understood?”

Words failed you, so you offered him a nod.

“If you are ever uncomfortable, if I ever cause you even the slightest bit of pain, you tell me. And if you even want to wait until you are ready, that is fine with me. Okay?”

Again, you nodded. This time, though, it wasn’t enough.

“I want your words, petal.”

“I understand.”

You lifted your hands, letting them settle on Coryo’s broad chest. For the first time, you realized that he was dressed down, too. Instead of his usual red attire, he was wearing a loose, white linen shirt and trousers. The shirt was thin, so you could feel the muscles of his chest. It was hard to believe the scrawny boy you once knew at the Academy had become…this.

“…And I would like to…do this.”

The corners of Coryo’s mouth tugged into a smile. If he minded your awkwardness, he gave no indication. His hands fell back to your waist and he tugged you against him. His trousers were as thin as his shirt. You squeaked as you felt him against your thigh. “Oh, petal,” he sighed, “I am going to make sure you enjoy this.”

He pulled on the tie holding your robe together, letting it fall open. Coryo glanced up at you, watching for your reaction, as he pushed the silky material off of your shoulders. You found yourself reaching for hand, guiding him to caress your soft curves. His lips captured yours. Coryo kissed you like you were giving him air. Though you were already pressed against him, his arms wrapped around you, as though if he pulled you against him more, you might meld yourself into him, become a part of him like a lung or an arm.

Your hand found itself entangled in his white blond hair. A low growl rumbled in Coryo’s chest. “Don't tease me, petal. Not tonight,” he said against your lips.

That felt more like a challenge than anything. You weren’t sure if this experience would be enjoyable for you, even with Coryo’s promises, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find your pleasure elsewhere. “Where’s the fun in that?”

When Coryo pulled away, his eyes were noticeably darker. “Oh, you’ll have your fun.”

He led you over to the bed, urging you to lie back. You expected him to climb over you, to lay with you, but instead, he settled between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. What was he doing? Your mother never told you about this. Why was he spreading you apart with his fingers and—

“Oh god,” you cried out as he licked a long stripe along your intimacy.

“Not god. Your Coryo,” he mumbled before pushing his tongue back inside you again.

Your brain turned to mush as he found his rhythm, found out what made you cry his name over and over again. Your hand fell back to his hair, gripping it at the roots, pushing him impossibly closer to you. Fuck. Coryo wasn’t lying when he said you would enjoy this. Could you keep him here like this all night? Forget the rest of the act, the part that necessitated making an heir. With Coryo between your thighs, you could live the rest of your life a happy woman. A pleased woman.

Something deep in your stomach began to tighten as Coryo pushed his fingers inside of you, too, stroking your walls. Your toes curled at the sensation. “Coryo, I feel—”

“Shh. Let go, petal,” he cooed.

It felt like something erupted inside of you. As you let out a guttural scream, your legs shutting around Coryo’s head. What was that? Was this the pleasure that women so seldom get to experience? How could other men rob women of this? You had half a mind to stay in bed for the rest of your life with Coryo if it meant you got to feel like this again and again and again.

Your thighs trembled as you released your hold on your husband. He lifted himself, pressing wet kisses up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, until he settled on your lips. Your arms wrapped around him, keeping him close to you. It was strange, wanting to be near him. Wasn’t it just a few months ago, a few weeks ago, that you wanted nothing more than to run away from this sort of life? To be anything other than the wife to a King? Oh, what you wish you could tell your (only slightly) younger self. Would she even believe you? Could you even believe it now?

How could so much change?

“You’re perfect,” Coryo whispered against your lips. “So perfect for me.”

He began to sit up, eliciting a whine from you. He gently pushed your hands away before reaching for his pants and undoing the ties. You were captivated as Coryo pushed the thin fabric down his thighs. And what lay between them…Oh, was this why it would be painful? Curious, you reached for it. Coryo guided your hand around him, encouraging you to give a few gentle pumps along his length.

“Be gentle?” you asked as you dropped your hand, letting Coryo drape himself over you again.

“For you, I’ll be anything you want.”

You let out a hiss as he guided himself inside you. God, the stretch. Your brows pinched together, your eyes screwing shut. It was too much. Yet, Coryo was slow, taking his time. It made you keenly aware of the feeling, but you supposed it was better than rushing into it. You shuddered at the thought of how painful that could be.

Coryo pressed a kiss to your lips. “You alright, petal?”

All you could manage was a strangled whine.

He grabbed your face, but didn’t say anything until you opened your eyes. He made sure you kept eye contact with him as he said, “If it’s too much, we can stop. Don’t think you have to do this just because it’s our wedding night. I would rather you want this than feel like you’re being forced.”

A part of you wanted to tell him to stop. But a greater part of you, the part of you that remembered the pure ecstasy you felt just moments before when his head was between your legs, wanted to experience that all over again. (Was that selfish? Maybe. But after this mess of an engagement, maybe you deserved to be selfish.) So you found yourself pulling Coryo down for another kiss, whispering against his lips, “I want you.”

Coryo kissed you as he rocked his hips into you. And, oh, if you thought the stretch was too much, you had no idea what was coming for you. You could feel him—every part of him. The entire world faded away until all that was left was your Coryo. Another whimper escaped your lips. You felt a question on the tip of his tongue. You kissed him harder, hoping that if you distracted him enough, he wouldn’t stop. Because, for as intense as this was, you were chasing that high and you would be damned before you let anyone get in the way of it.

Slowly, though, the pain melted into pleasure. Your moans echoed off the walls, Coryo taking it as a sign to pick up the pace. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your fingernails digging into his back. You were sure you would be frightened by the sight of the marks, but that didn’t matter now. Nothing else mattered right now.

You let out a strangled cry when Coryo hit a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you. Stars dotted the corners of your vision. You almost convinced yourself it was a lie that women couldn’t feel pleasure from this. Or was this just because it was with Coryo? Coryo, who seemed to so genuinely love you? Was this why some women called it making love? The idea made bile rise in your throat. Could you love Coryo?

You screamed as the pleasure overtook you. All of the other thoughts washed away. All that was left was you, and Coryo, and this oddly perfect moment. You were so wrapped up in the new sensation that you didn’t notice your husband pulling away until he was nearly gone. He paused as your hand gripped his wrist, urging him to stay. Why would he leave?

“I’ll be right back, petal. I need to get something to clean you up. You made quite the mess,” he said, teasing lilt rising at the end of his sentence.

You weren’t sure how long he was gone, but it was long enough for you to regain feeling in your legs. At least, enough feeling that you were able to push yourself up into a seated position. You tucked your legs against your chest and stared at the mess. Your mother hadn’t told you that this would be bloody. How could you not notice that? Were you that blinded by pleasure that you ignored your pain? You hadn’t realized that Coryo had that sort of effect on you. What happened to the girl all those months ago that would have spat in his face for touching her? Where had she gone? So much had changed in such a short amount of time.

The bile began to rise again. How could you have let yourself fall under his spell? You once laughed with Sejanus about how all the students at the Academy fell over themselves for a moment with the charming Coriolanus Snow. What had he done to you for you to ignore the beast inside?

A cold hand on your knee made you jerk. When you lifted your head, you saw Coriolanus standing at the edge of the bed. He pushed your legs apart and dragged a wet cloth you hadn’t realized he brought between them. You flinched. It was too rough. He was too rough. Or was this all in your head?

Coriolanus must have seen something on your face. “Are you alright?”

You pushed his hand away and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You glanced around the room, searching for your robe. The room felt like it was spinning. Where was the damned robe? Stumbling over to the window, you finally found it. You were too exposed. After plucking it from the floor, you wrapped it around yourself as tight as you could manage and tied the string into a knot.

“What are you doing, petal?” Coriolanus asked. You heard him walk close to you, but you propelled yourself toward the door on the other of the room. The one that connected the King’s chambers to the Queen’s. “Come to bed. Please. Talk to me.”

“I’m going to bed,” you managed as you reached the door.

“Then why are you running?”

You pushed the door open. “I don’t wish to sleep with you.”

He followed after you. His long legs brought him to you in a few short strides. Coriolanus captured your wrist in one hand, urging you to stop. “Did I do something wrong? Petal, if I did, it wasn’t intentional.”

“I wish to be alone.”

You couldn’t look at him. You were scared to see his beautiful blue eyes dotted with sadness as he asked, “Did I hurt you?”

You wrenched your hand away. “I’ve done my duty for the night. Now, I would like to rest. Alone.”

Perhaps it was cruel to say such a thing. Perhaps Coriolanus didn’t even deserve it. But hurting him was easy. Striking him where it hurt was easy. Coriolanus Snow might genuinely love you, and nothing in your life scared you more.

“…If that is what you wish, I won’t push it. But I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re just a duty to me. You are the petals of the most beautiful rose. You are everything.” Coriolanus looked like he was near tears when you allowed yourself a glance at his face. “We leave in the morning for my family’s cottage. I thought you might like to spend our honeymoon away from prying eyes.”

You had already gone this far. “Don’t pretend you do anything for anyone but yourself.”

Coriolanus reeled back as if you slapped him. It might have hurt less if you had. Why were you being as cruel as him? “Everything I do is for you.”

“Then let me go.”

He took a step back. So did you. Two lovers, staring at each other, neither quite sure where they went wrong. Except, you did know this was your fault. But, dammit, he started it. Coriolanus confused your thoughts. You knew him as cruel and calculating for so long…How could you trust that anything he did was truly sincere? How could you believe that a man like him could love a woman like you?

You shut the door.

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corioswife · 4 months

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this was a request 🎀 nsfw 18+ skip if uncomfortable !!

Academy!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

please send me your requests <3

The Capitol University has always been a prestigious institution, attracting the brightest minds from across Panem. Among its esteemed student body, two particular figures stood out: Coriolanus Snow and you.

You and Snow shared a competitive rivalry, each determined to outshine the other in every area of academics and social life. Despite your strong dislike for each other, you couldn't deny the underlying attraction that seemed to draw you closer.

One day, during a particularly intense study session, you and Snow find yourselves working on adjoining tables in the library. As usual, you’re both engrossed in their work, oblivious to the others' presence. But then, something unexpected happens.

You're both feeling a strong attraction for each other. It's not just the usual academic rivalry or physical attraction that's drawing you to one another; there's something deeper, a strange sort of understanding between the two of you.

As the evening wears on, the library begins to empty out. The soft glow of lamplight casts an intimate spell over the once tense atmosphere. Coriolanus Snow, unable to concentrate further on his work, finally looks up, his gaze meeting yours across the table.

Your hearts race as your eyes lock. You both know this moment could change everything, but neither can resist the pull any longer. With a mix of fear and anticipation, you stand up from your chair, walking slowly towards him.

As you approach Snow, the air around you becomes thick with anticipation. He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours. Just as you're about to reach him, he stands up as well, closing the small gap between you.

You reached out, placing your hand on his chest. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breathing quick and shallow. He couldn't deny the feelings any longer.

You leaned in closer, your lips just barely brushing against his. He could feel the heat from your body, and it was intoxicating. Snow responded by pressing his body against yours, his hand sliding down your back.

As you felt his hand slide down your back, you knew this was it. You couldn't resist anymore. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss, one that was filled with both anger and desire. Snow pulled you closer, your bodies melting together as you explored each other's mouths.

You kissed harder, your tongues dancing against each other's lips. It was a fiery exchange, fueled by the years of unspoken desire and hidden attraction. Snow broke the kiss for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he panted.

" I've wanted this for so long " he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. " I never thought it would happen between us. "

As your kisses intensified, you could feel the heat between them growing stronger. Your bodies were in sync, moving together as if they were made for each other. You moaned into his kiss, unable to contain your desire any longer.

The kisses became more urgent, your hands roaming over each other's bodies. Snow's hand found its way under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that sent shivers down your spine.

" I want you " you whispered against his lips. " Please, Snow "

" You never have to ask twice " he said, his voice thick with desire. With one swift movement, he picked you up, pressing you against the wall. His lips found your neck, his teeth grazing lightly against your skin as he nipped and sucked.

You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck as he nibbled and sucked. The soft moans that escaped your lips only fueled his passion. He pressed his hips against yours, his arousal clear through his clothing.

Snow's kisses trailed down your neck, his hands roaming over your curves. You felt a mixture of fear and anticipation as he continued to explore your body. His hands moved to your waist, pulling up your shirt to reveal your soft skin.

" I need to taste you " he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. His tongue darted out, tracing the outline of your earlobe before dipping inside. You could feel the heat from his body as he leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against yours.

You gasped softly as he kissed your neck and sucked on your earlobe, shivering slightly from his touch. Snow's hands were moving up your stomach, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that made you tremble with desire.

As the kiss deepened, you felt Snow's other hand gently caress your waist, pulling you even closer. His heartbeat pounded against your chest, matching the rapid pace of your own.

You felt Snow's warm breath against your neck as he whispered, " Are you ready for this? " His hand slid down your back, stopping just above your buttocks.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded against his chest, your heart pounding wildly. The anticipation mixed with desire sent shivers through your entire being. As he squeezed your hip gently, you couldn't help but lean into him, eager for whatever came next.

Feeling your nod, Snow pulled away slightly to look into your eyes. His gaze held a mix of lust and tenderness as he leaned down once more, his lips brushing against your ear. " Then let's make this perfect "

Snow whispered before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss once more. His hands slid down your body, grazing the soft skin of your thighs, spreading warmth and desire. His touch was tender yet firm, guiding you through this intense dance of love and lust.

As the kiss deepened, Snow's hand slowly slid underneath your skirt. His fingers trailed along your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned into the kiss, arching your back slightly to press against his hand.

Snow smiled against your lips, his tongue dancing with yours as his hand slid further up your leg. His fingers brushed against your panties, tracing soft patterns over your sensitive skin. tracing over the material of your panties before finally touching your sex through your clothes. His fingers found you already wet and eager for him.

He couldn't believe it—he was really doing this. His heart raced as his hands explored further, his tongue dancing with yours in a fiery kiss. His fingers teased your clit, rubbing softly against the sensitive nub through your underwear.

His heart raced as he pressed his hips against yours, feeling your wetness against his underwear. He groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding up your thighs before pulling down your panties and throwing them to the side.

Snow pressed his hips against yours, grinding your lower halves together. His fingers traced teasing patterns over your folds, spreading your wetness. Without warning, he thrust two fingers deep into your core, filling you up in one swift motion.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he thrust deeper, finding that perfect spot inside you with his talented fingers. You could feel his warmth seeping, making you even wetter for him.

Snow couldn't hold back any longer, pressing his bare erection against your wet folds.

He groaned softly against your lips as his hips thrust forward, his thick arousal sliding against your soaking wet flesh. " Fuck " he moaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly

As your bodies met, there was an explosive connection. Your walls clenched around his invading length, milking him eagerly. His deep groans filled the room, a testament to the intense pleasure he found within you.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #fem!reader #coriolanus smut #smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow drabble #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow fan fiction

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i-understand-vangogh · 4 months

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me after reading ANOTHER tom blyth/ coriolanus snow fan fiction

I can not get over how AMAZING YALLS WRITING IS. I AM FERAL & AFRAID!!!

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mitsuki91 · 3 months

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Everyone in the fandom: our beloved Coriolanus Snow is so toxic let me be consumed by toxic fics about him let me read toxic snowbaird and toxic snowplinth and toxic snow x reader and aaaall the toxic! 🔥🔥🔥

Me: ... But what if... Fluff? 🥺 A real healing love, tenderness, fluff?! 🥺🥺 Give me snowbaird fluff! Omg give me snowplinth fluff! I want cuddles! Can we have cuddles? 🥺🥺🥺

#we indeed can #because I will write them #all the cuddles #coriolanus snow fluff #snowbairdplinth fluff #snowbairdplinth fluff in the next chapter I promise #snowbairdplint #coriolanus snow #snowbaird #snowplinth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #fan fiction

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thestarlightforge · 5 months

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TBOSAS Meta

This started as a couple-paragraphs-long Everlark & Coryo x Lucy Gray rant. It turned into an essay on the politics of systemic oppression and how we illustrate it in fiction, with The Hunger Games and Ballad as case studies. Regardless, I hope others enjoy, lol. This is where my brain lives, now, as I expect it will the rest of 2023. Cheers!

***

It’s been interesting, the last few days, some of the discourse that’s popped up around TBOSAS. FASCINATING political discussions, as I’ve come to expect for a Suzanne Collins release. (#1 in my heart.)

Personally, I always separate books vs. movie canon with her franchise. With the OG Hunger Games, sometimes I felt the films were better—like she got another pass at it and REALLY took advantage, and utilized the hell out of taking it out of Katniss’s first-person POV to develop other characters and the world (still without detracting from her narrative)—while for some details, I preferred the books.

With TBOSAS, though, the book and movie feel almost entirely different to me.

There are MANY shared elements, of course, and I feel either version gels quite nicely with the OG franchise. It’s not even that there’s that many continuity differences—some things cut or altered for time, sure, but the bones of the plot are the same. Both illustrate astute political commentary, Coriolanus’s descent into madness, Tigris’s shift in position on him (foreshadowing her full turn by Mockingjay), and Lucy Gray’s role in his life in both his initial downfall and his defeat by Katniss. The actors and creative team all did BEAUTIFUL work bringing it to life, and I honestly love both versions.

But fans who mainly like the book may be frustrated by the sympathy Coryo garners in the film.

Normally, I’d say this is because the book reveals more internal monologue—and it does. But honestly, one of the things I was most impressed by in this film was how legible the actors’ internal monologues were. It was clear, the amount of work they all did to that end. So I don’t know that it is just more. I think it’s also different.

Book Coriolanus devolves much earlier and more obviously. He starts from the same pressed circumstances and has moments of goodness, but he becomes the villain we know him eventually to be pretty damn fast.

Film-Coriolanus has a much slower descent. Ironic, honestly, given the film has far less time than the book does.

I think as a result of this, I’ve seen discourse comparing beats in his relationship with Lucy Gray to Katniss and Peeta. For example, that beautifully shot/choreographed/performed scene in TBOSAS with him and Lucy Gray on either side of the fence after the bombings that night, where they almost kiss and he asks her, “Is this real? If I’m going to risk everything?” being compared to Peeta’s long game of “real or not real” throughout Mockingjay. Everlark folks (rightfully) pointing out that for Peeta, the refrain is about shared trauma, especially between him and Katniss, and both of them grounding their relationship in mutual trust—while asserting that for Coryo, the same refrain comes from a place of selfishness.

I get where this opinion comes from: President Snow is probably one of the most violent, sadistic, genocidal dictators in modern popular fiction. His relationship with Lucy Gray started as transactional—even more acutely in the book. Nearly everything Book-Coryo does is for his or his family’s personal gain.

But to me, half the beauty and tragedy of the film is this delicious possibility—the hope—they showed us.

THG has always had a strong anti-war philosophy in general, with through-line commentary on showmanship, propaganda, surveillance and performance: The recurrent themes of cameras always bring on them, the arenas and entirety of Panem being a stage/game—and how those things impact authentic human relationships. Everlark hit for so many because of the ways authenticity bloomed out of that hellish, contrived pit. Coriolanus and Lucy Gray’s relationship started out similarly contrived: Thrown together by the politics of the Academy, the uprising, the districts, the Capitol and the Games—helping one another survive. Largely unlike Katniss and Peeta, they both played the game intentionally, to varying degrees. (Personality wise, these four really have almost nothing in common, lol.) Lucy Gray is a good person, both in the end and from her start (unlike the terrorist Coriolanus becomes). But she is a performer. He’s right about that.

So honestly, I don’t see much purpose in reading Peeta’s question as valid while Coryo’s wasn’t. I think that judgment is colored by dramatic irony—us knowing who they each become. But in theatre, we talk about living honestly in imagined circumstances. It’s used in a lot of acting techniques, but particularly for people playing villains. To stay grounded in the truth of it, you have to believe honestly in the imagined moment, not the gestalt; Leslie Odom Jr. was a great Aaron Burr because every performance, he believed in the whole journey, from hope to ruin. Tom Blythe was a great Coryo because he invested in the earnest reality of Snow as a young man, not the devil we know he becomes. And at that point in the story, at the cages that night with Lucy Gray, Coriolanus was honestly grounded in similar struggles as our OG heroes: Trying to provide for and protect his starving family. His family (and the Capitol at large) reeks of privilege, and his prejudices were obviously flawed. But in his developing love for her, he was steeped in starvation, the same political forces as lashed all citizens of Panem, and was clawing his way from beneath just as much Capitol propaganda as people from the Districts—perhaps even more so, given his Grandma’am and how his father died. Because of their given circumstances, politics bled into everything—but eventually, so did feeling, and they had several moments of genuine bonding, trust and connection which the actors invested in beyond their political need for each other. There’s a constant push and pull: Holding hands at the zoo for the cameras was political; her reaching for his hand in the arena visit was less so. The first “Stop treating me like I’ve already lost” in front of everyone was wit-soaked survival, while “Please don’t let me die in that arena tomorrow,” near-whispered and with hands held between them where the camera would struggle to see, bled into real vulnerability. Saving him from the other tributes in the cage-ride to the zoo was about survival; risking her life to go back for him when the arena was bombed was at least a mix. Her motivations for singing in her interview are complex—perhaps guilt that a “rebel” attack nearly killed Coriolanus, his advice she’d get the most money that way—but I feel strongly that a non-zero amount of her was motivated by wanting to demonstrate that she trusts him, which for her is even higher-prized than love. And I also feel that, after the hospital and her “final performance”—leading up to their near-kiss at the zoo—Coriolanus scoped out the arena (and ultimately took all those risks to help her cheat the Games) both because he wanted the Plinth prize, in theory, and because he increasingly desperately wanted her to live.

The waters between them were thoroughly, legitimately muddied—which I believe was intentional, that constant tension between authenticity and politics. And as much as he was falling for her, Coriolanus saw that Lucy Gray was just as clever and good at crowd-work as he was—maybe better.

So to circle all the way back to this Everlark comparison: Given the absurdly multilayered situation, is it really that selfish or unreasonable he would check in with her during that moment through the fence? That this child—wrapped in oppressive patriarchy, violence, starvation and propaganda—would ask for reassurance before he was willing to be vulnerable, or to potentially risk his family’s lives?

Some artists are hesitant to engage with the humanity of “villains,” their origins, because they feel humanizing them excuses them. In real life, I get this: Second chances aren’t always the answer, and people need to be held accountable. But isn’t it more powerful storytelling to demonstrate the corrosive nature of all systems of oppression in our fiction, to show how they can corrupt even those who try, than to condemn people before they’ve even had a chance? Isn’t the beauty of Lucy Gray’s whole thing that everyone starts out good, and it’s our job to choose to stay on the right side of that line?

And when President Coriolanus Snow finally chokes on his last rose, wouldn’t it be a more satisfying victory if we imagined him as a real-feeling person—full owner of sixty years of horrifying choices—rather than a cartoonishly evil cardboard cutout?

Book-Coryo has a more obviously manipulative/evil streak, much earlier on. To make it plain: He’s an ass, and his “love” for her reads more like obsession. But my favorite aspect of the film (and I feel one of the most compelling) was how it illustrated that these systems of oppression can make tragedies of almost anyone: All but those at the very, very top. Suzanne’s anti-capitalist politicking—how classism turns everyone below the 1% against each other, where the “upper middle class” (doctors/lawyers/actors) is vilified to the poor as a red herring while a handful of robber-baron CEOs amass almost all wealth on the planet—strikes again. She, Francis Lawrence, the film’s creative team and these actors came together to put tragically human faces on that struggle—how hard it is to stay a good person amidst intense, violent, systemic oppression.

But none of that sings quite as true if you go into it having decided that Coriolanus was evil in his bones. The stakes are so much higher, richer, otherwise. If his love—for Tigris, for his family, for Sejanus, and yes, for Lucy Gray—was, or became, authentic.

It’s not a descent into madness if he’s already mad. Or, as he put it in the original Hunger Games film: “Hope. It is the only thing stronger than fear.”

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take-it-on-the-run · 5 months

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Echoes

Lucy Gray Baird & Coriolanus Snow

How could Snow know that a song written for him would come back to haunt him, all these years later?

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: ANGST, no happy ending here folks, big spoilers for TBOSAS and The Hunger Games, time skips (back and forth), Lucy Gray gets the last laugh

Characters: Lucy Gray Baird, Coriolanus Snow, Katniss Everdeen

Read it on AO3!

A/N: This is a mish-mash of the book and the movie, and also my first attempt at fan fiction ever. I wrote a large chunk of this in the bathroom at Thanksgiving because I saw TBOSAS the night before and couldn't get it out of my head. I hope you enjoy, and any constructive criticism is always welcome! Also, I hate editing on my phone :)

The first time he’d ever heard the song, he was in a meadow, far from the prying eyes of the Capitol. Away from the television screens that broadcast his lover being thrust into the Games in a vain attempt at entertainment. The Games his life was bound to, forever.

The Games that, in a twist of fate, his lover had won purely through her charm and wit. The only weapon she wielded was his mother’s compact he’d given her in secret, filled with rat poison, which was returned when it was found on her person after the game. He was sure that if he hadn’t given her that compact and told her to hide under the arena, she’d have been dead before nightfall. She was a performer, after all.

She was there, Lucy Gray, sitting alone, idly strumming at her guitar. Once the Capitol released her back to District 12, she reunited with the Covey, her family, her one true reason that she needed to win in the arena.

At the time, he wanted to let himself think he was the reason she wanted to win, but deep down he knew her heart always laid with her misshapen family.

He slowly approached her, taking in the lyrics to the soft song she was singing. She sang so softly that if she sang any quieter, her words would be lost to the wind.

Are you

Coming to the tree?

He strolled further towards her, eyes scanning the empty landscape until they landed on the tree she was sitting under. Its branches were dry and could barely be called brown, and Lucy Gray was using a large chunk of it as a makeshift chair.

Where they strung up a man

They say murdered three

The lyrics to the song made him stop for a moment. Of all the things she chose to sing about, why would such a beautiful girl sing such a dark story?

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight

In the hanging tree

The second time he’d heard the song, he was in a forest, reeling at the pain from a trap his lover had set for him. Rain forced them to pause their journey of running from Panem, seeking shelter in a cabin among the trees. He didn’t know if his lover knew about the weapons stored beneath the floorboards, but as soon as he laid his hands on them, she must’ve thought his choice was already made.

She all but ran from the cabin, making an excuse to get food that she earlier deemed wasn’t ripe enough to eat. He knew that she was running from him, from the silver-tongued Capitol-raised son who was almost killed by her charms.

Almost.

He ran after her, gun in hand, looking to see where she’d run to. A rough trail turned into forest floor, trees suddenly the only thing he could see. He cautiously took more steps before his mother’s orange shawl he’d given her, crumpled in a small pile, came into view. Another piece of his mother given to her, being returned.

He bent down to pick up the shawl, snatching it off the ground when he felt a sudden pain shoot from his forearm. Stifling a scream from his lips, he frantically looked down, the source of his pain hanging from him.

An orange, black, and white banded snake was sunk into his skin. He ripped its fangs out from his arm with a grunt, the culprit slithering away into the grass before he could crush it with his boot.

He called out and asked the trees whether or not the snake was poisonous.

If she was trying to kill him, after everything he’d done for her.

There was a flash of bright color among the dark trees he was sure was Lucy Gray, and he fired. Without a thought, without remorse, and without a trace of the man he promised her he’d be.

He paused when he heard a grunt, a small part of him hoping he’d missed.

A larger part of him hoping he hadn’t.

He stalked through the trees, expecting to see her bleeding into the earth, but was met with her gold hoop earring, dangling with long pearls. He tucked it in his pocket, next to his compass and his mother’s compact.

He spoke again to the empty wood, saying this was enough, for her to stop.

The reply taunted him in his lover’s voice, dripping from the beaks of the dozens of jabberjays that started to circle above him.

Are you

Coming to the tree?

He craned his neck up to see his tormentors, ricocheting the voice of the girl he was running away with.

Where the dead man called out

For his love to flee

The voice of the girl that was now running from him.

He raised the gun that was slack in his arms, pressing the trigger and firing at the birds. He spun on his heel, desperate to stop hearing her voice colliding off the walls in his mind.

He fired frantically, screaming at the birds to shut up, but none of them seemed to hear his pleas or fall from the sky.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight

In the hanging tree

The third time he’d heard the song, his heart stopped, only for a moment. He was a decrepit old man now, his chin sporting a white beard that matched his hair, sitting at the head of the Capitol.

He faced a television screen that was broadcasting a large band of rebels, walking to the District 5 dam with explosives.

The attack was an act of treason against the Capitol, plain and simple. Giving the rebels a small glimmer of hope at rising against Panem’s government, all led by a seventeen-year-old girl.

The victor, the girl on fire, the Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen; she went by many names, all of which made him want to crush her like the pest she was.

Even more when he learned she twisted a song written for him by a lover he wished he could forget.

Are you

Coming to the tree?

He diverted his eyes from the screen, lightly pounding his fist to his chest as he covered his surprise with a cough.

Where I told you to run

So we’d both be free

He blinked, and suddenly he was back in the meadow, watching Lucy Gray play from afar. Her soft voice floating through the gentle silence of the wind blowing against an open field.

Back in the forest, hunting her down and being taunted by jabberjays as the song cut through the dense forest that still visited him in his dreams.

He dug his blunt nails into his palm, standing up and walking over to a window that overlooked a courtyard. Other people in the room were glued to the television, gunfire mixing with the voices of the rebels.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight

In the hanging tree

The final time he heard the song, he was standing at a post, center attention to every eye that had invaded the Capitol. Alma Coin stood on a platform behind him, and the dearest Mockingjay stood with an arrow trained at his head.

His eyes met hers, cold and void of the emotion they held when they met. Her lips were held in a thin line, the drawstring of her bow taut against her nose.

Are you

Coming to the tree?

He raked his eyes across the crowd, and he swore for a moment he saw her. Lucy Gray, young and bright as the day he’d met her. He knew his mind was tricking itself, some rendition of his life flashing before his eyes, but he still sucked in his bloody breath at the hope of seeing her again.

He’d always been honest to the girl on fire, and for that, he hoped she’d give him a swift death; but instead, she moved her aim above him, letting the arrow fly and killing Alma Coin.

He jaw went slack, the metallic taste of his blood sliding over his tongue. She lowered her weapon as the crowd behind engulfed her form, surging at him as he closed his eyes tight.

A peaceful death wasn’t in the cards for him after all.

Wear a necklace of rope

Side by side with me

Regret didn’t surge through his veins for the countless lives he’d taken, the people he’d enslaved, or the Games; it was for the man he chose to be. Taking the guns from the floorboards of that cabin, hunting her like she was a bird with its wings broken, and swallowing her memory like a snake in the grass.

He didn’t deserve regret. He deserved a fiery endless hell that would barely serve his actions justice.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight

In the hanging tree

As brutal hands clawed at his skin, tearing his soul from his body, he brought his mind back to the memories he didn’t deserve to have. With her, his lover, Lucy Gray. The girl that was lost to the trees, erased from history in a hope that the all-powerful President Snow would always land on top.

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