#coriolanus x original character

[slaymitchabernathy]

Back Together Again

For once, Coriolanus is home before Soarynn.

It’s unusual and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about it. She’s at a dinner with some of her friends and his meeting was shorter than he had originally planned for so here he is, nursing a glass of whiskey while waiting for the love of his life to return.

The penthouse is so quiet without Soarynn in it. Normally, it’s filled with music and laughter. She often sings out loud or talks to her cat Petunia, who she claims can understand her. But it’s quiet.

He checks his watch again for the tenth time within five minutes and sighs. Is this how she feels all the time? Soarynn doesn’t work, he’s seen to it that she’s well taken care of but that leaves her with a lot of free time on her hands and most of it she spends shopping, going out with friends and taking care of his ancestral penthouse. She does however, spend a good amount of time waiting for him to come home every night.

Coriolanus eyes the cat sitting on the armchair across from him. Petunia’s tail flicks back and forth as the two sit in a comfortable silence. Both waiting for Soarynn. Then, they hear it. The sound of the front doors unlocking. Petunia jumps off the chair and bounds down the hallway to greet Soarynn whereas Coriolanus takes the more reserved route and simply waits. She’ll come to him like she always does.

But she doesn’t. He can hear her make her way inside and close the door. He doesn’t hear any greetings for the cat which he smugly notes but it’s so…quiet. He listens to the sound of Soarynn’s heels on the hardwood floor as they walk down the hall but she never makes it to the living room.

Coriolanus furrows his brows. Has something happened? Is she upset with him? His worries persist when Petunia comes back into the living room, her tail lowered in defeat.

Coriolanus pushes himself from the sofa and makes his way to their bedroom where Soarynn has most likely gone to. He’s proven correct when he finds the closet light on and catches a glimpse of Soarynn throwing her heels towards the other side, a childish act that he is not too fond of seeing from his girlfriend. Especially because he bought her those shoes and every fucking thing in that closet.

He also notes her expensive handbag carelessly lying on the floor as well. Coriolanus strides across the room and knocks on the closet’s doorframe before entering and finds Soarynn sitting on one of the ottomans they have in the closet. She’s hunched over as she fusses with the tights she wore tonight, trying to pull them off and not paying him any mind.

Coriolanus clenches his jaw and clears his throat, “Is there a reason as to why you failed to greet me when you arrived home?” Soarynn would often wait right in front of the doors when he got home, not wanting to wait a moment longer to see him again. This behavior is the complete opposite of what he’s used to receiving from his girlfriend and he doesn’t like it one bit.

Soarynn mumbles something incoherent and Coriolanus raises his eyebrows, “Excuse me?” Soarynn snaps her head up and he’s finally granted a few of his girlfriend’s face. Her eyes are red and filled with tears and a bit of her mascara has run down her face as well, “I said it’s none of your fucking business,” she snaps, so much anger in her tone.

Coriolanus is taken back both by the tears and the snippy attitude which he does not appreciate one bit. Soarynn is normally polite and sweet. This is not the girl he’s grown to love.

Coriolanus grabs her chin, squeezing it between his thumb and index finger, “Say that one more time,”he challenges, his tone sharp. Soarynn jerks away from his hold and stands up, slightly unsteady on her feet which means she had something to drink at dinner. “Just leave me alone,” she huffs as she brushes past him and into the bedroom. Coriolanus is right behind her and he reaches for her arm, wrapping his long fingers around it.

“Have you forgotten all your manners or are you just trying to piss me off?” He asks, pulling on her arm. Soarynn whips her head around and he can see fresh tears falling from her face, “It doesn’t fucking matter so just let me go,” she says, her voice trembling. He’s more concerned than upset at the moment but when Soarynn attempts to break free from his grip, it all goes downhill.

She succeeds in pulling away from his grasp but the alcohol in her system has stunted her senses and her foot catches under the rug they have laid out on the bedroom floor. It’s within five seconds that Soarynn is hitting the hard floor with a loud bang. Coriolanus flinches and quickly reaches down to check on her and her shaking form. He rests and hand on her back and Soarynn lets out a whimper, “I…” Her voice dies off, “I just want today to be over,” she whispers.

Coriolanus furrows his brows at her words. “What happened tonight? Did someone hurt you? Try to touch you?” He can already feel his blood boiling at the thought of another man trying to hurt his precious girlfriend.

Soarynn slowly sits up on her knees and shakes her head, “No one touched me,” she whispers. Coriolanus withdraws his hand from her back in exchange for making his way around her so that he can look her in the eye. He kneels down until they’re almost at eye level with one another, even on his knees he’s taller than Soarynn.

Her eyes are trained on the floor, tears falling onto the rug. He ever so carefully reaches out to cup her face with his hand, being oh-so gentle while doing so.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

Soarynn sniffles and shakes her head, “It’s nothing of importance.” It probably isn’t. It’s probably about something silly and something that would never bother Coriolanus. But it’s bothering Soarynn which means it’s bothering him.

“Tell me,” he gently urges, his heart clenching at the sight of his girlfriend upset. Soarynn wipes a tear and takes in a shaky breath, “Clemmie said some things and…” Her bottom lip trembles and he knows she’s about to start crying, “And I don’t think she’s ever going to talk to me again,” Soarynn gasps, her entire body shaking as she begins to sob.

Coriolanus wishes he could take every bit of pain away from Soarynn, who’s already been through so much already. He doesn’t hesitate to pull her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her small frame as she sits on his lap, crying into his shoulder. “She hates me,” Soarynn cries in between sobs, “she absolutely hates me.”

Coriolanus highly doubts that Clemensia hates Soarynn, especially because the girl is somewhat easy to piss off and often gets into arguments with everyone. It’s a miracle that she and Soarynn haven’t already gotten into some sort of disagreement.

But it’s clearly weighing on Soarynn’s heart. Coriolanus knows how much she values all her relationships and how devastated she can get when faced with a fight. Soarynn doesn’t like arguing, she’d rather apologize and move on with things whereas Clemensia can hold a nasty grudge.

Coriolanus grows more worried though as Soarynn struggles to breathe, her breaths growing more and more erratic. “Soarynn,” he says softly, “Soarynn look at me.” Soarynn lifts her head and his heart shatters into a million pieces at the sight of his girlfriend’s teary eyed complexion. The tears aren’t slowing down and neither is her breathing.

Is this a panic attack? Does she need to lie down? Should he call the doctor?

He pushes all those questions to the side and simply focuses on her. He rubs soothing circles on her back and takes her hand in his other hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Just breathe,” he instructs, “in and out darling. In and out.” He does the breathing exercises with her, both of them taking in a deep breath and holding it before slowly pushing it out. “That’s it,” he praises, “you’re doing so well my love.”

The tears haven’t ceased but her breathing is much better and he’s no longer considering medical assistance. He wipes away a few tears before resting his forehead against hers. “It’s all going to be okay Soarynn. She’ll come around, I promise.” Soarynn scoffs and shakes her head, “I fear that she’s quite upset with me, and I’m rather upset with her as well.”

He doesn’t ask what the fight was about. Not now, when clearly anything can trigger her into another spiral. Right now he needs to do damage control, calm her down, get her some rest.

He presses a soft kiss to her forehead before cupping her face with both his hands, cradling it whilst rubbing under her eyes with his thumbs. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I saw you weren’t being your normal self and yet I attacked you before making sure you were alright,” he says, the guilt already eating away at him.

Since dating Soarynn, Coriolanus has found himself to be a better man. More patient and kind. The old him attacked first and asked questions later. He acted like that version of himself tonight, attacking his girlfriend before finding the root of the problem. Soarynn sniffles and shrugs, “It’s alright. I…I should’ve told you right when I got home.”

Coriolanus shakes his head and gently presses his fingers into the soft skin of her face, his eyes looking into her with such deep conviction, “It’s not alright Soarynn,” he insists, “I should’ve gone about it in a completely different way and yet I’ve hurt you even more in the process.” Soarynn looks down at her lap and sighs, “I forgive you Coryo. Tonight has been horrible for both of us.”

He can agree with that. He still wishes he could do more to help with the ache in her heart. “Is there anything I can do?” He asks softly. Soarynn bites her lip, “I think I just want to take a bath and go to bed.” He nods, he can do that. “Of course darling.”

꧁ ꧂

With Soarynn safely tucked in bed next to him, Coriolanus feels much better already.

She’s fast asleep in his arms, tonight’s events had taken a massive toll on her. He’d bathed her with her favorite soaps and washed her hair. Then he brought her a dessert that was undoubtedly her favorite, chocolate covered strawberries. Petunia finally proved herself useful and cuddled with Soarynn for a good half hour and the two of them seemed to help improve each other’s moods significantly.

He watches her as she sleeps. She looks so beautiful. Tonight was a painful reminder of how nasty he can get, what he’s capable of. There’s some things he knows he could never be capable of. Harming her is the main thing. Hitting Soarynn is completely out of the question. How could he harm the love of his life with his hands?

He’d turn himself into the authorities if he ever stooped so low.

Tomorrow they’ll talk about it more, what led to the fight between the girls, how to make amends. Then he’ll take her shopping and spoil her the way she deserves to be spoiled.

And should something like this ever occur again, he’ll know how the put the pieces back together again.

| tumble oneshot/drabble |

#coriolanus fanfiction #slaymitchabernathy #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus smut #ao3 fanfic #wattpad #soarynn snow #coriolanus x soarynn #coryo snow #staywithmealways #soarynn nightingale #coriolanus x oc #coriolanus drabble #coriolanus oneshot #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fic #original character #coriolanus x original character #oneshot #oc #drabble

[mrpldiddles]

the woman through the waiting glass part one | c.snow

a/n: i've been going on about my coriolanus snow fic for months now and i am very excited to finally share the first chapter here!! this fic follows my oc metis pyralis and what happens between her and coriolanus after the events of tbosas. i'm not sure how long this fic will end up being or when i'll be able to post the other chapters as i am still in uni and trying to find time to write, but i will have them posted as soon as i can. i hope y'all enjoy this fic as much as i do and are willing to follow metis and coriolanus along with my sporadic posting schedule. i also do not currently have a tag list for this fic but if you are wanting to be added to one let me know :) without further ado here is the first chapter of the woman through the waiting glass :)

word count: 4.4k

warnings: none for this chapter i believe :)

Every girl in the Capitol should’ve known to stay away from Coriolanus Snow. With his captivating, crystal-like eyes and that infamous charm of his…he was too good to be true. Star pupil of the academy, heir to the Snow legacy and the expected recipient of the Plinth Prize, he had everything he could ever want in the palm of his hands by the age of eighteen. Despite all his glaring warning signs, he was no stranger to the affections of his peers. Since his birth he’d been told how charming and handsome he’d grow to be; to look just like his father. At the end of the war, at age eight, he began to attract the gaze of some of his classmates. By the time he was sixteen, practically every girl in the Capitol wished to be on his arm. At age eighteen he had his eyes set on one girl and one girl alone. And it was not his fiancee-to-be. 

There was no denying the chemistry between Lucy Gray and Coriolanus Snow. It was bright as day on every screen in Panem from the moment he paraded her around the monkey enclosure. All eyes were on the two of them, including the heiress to the Pyralis fortune. 

Metis Pyralis knew that her marriage would never be one of true love. From the moment that their families agreed upon the arrangement when they were both only nine years of age, they both knew the stakes. Their families were to be joined whether they loved each other or not, though of course, the Snows needed the Pyralis’ far more than they would ever need them. Investing in and funding District One had its perks, meaning that the Pyralis family was set for generations with Metis to inherit it all. But none of this stopped Coriolanus from leaving the Capitol for District Twelve and Lucy Gray. 

Metis found out the news from Tigris. The day before had been when Lucy Gray and Coriolanus had won the status of Victors. Metis hadn’t been able to find her way through the crowds to congratulate her future husband in person before he had been swept away, so Saturday afternoon she decided to congratulate him in person at the Snow’s apartment. The outside of the building was misleading to what Metis knew awaited inside. The newly fixed elevator, the partially crumbling walls, crooked light fixtures. Despite the anxiety that she knew Coriolanus harboured over the state of his family’s home and the fact that she - his future fiancee, yet someone he still considered a family outsider - knew of their financial troubles, she had never told a soul. Not even her own father knew, giving a new understanding as to why he had agreed to the arranged marriage of his daughter in the first place. Though the two families were long-time friends, Metis was unsure if she would be in such an unconventional relationship if her father knew the truth of why the Grandma’am had ever even suggested the idea. 

After climbing the creaky staircase - Coriolanus had instructed her to not take the elevator on her own - she found her way to the apartment, knocking on the tall lacquered front door. Moments later she was greeted with Tigris’ slightly red and puffy face, a handkerchief being held to her nose.

“Tigris,” Metis greeted, internally cringing at the volume of her own voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Metis,” Tigris whined, her voice ragged from the amount of crying she must have been doing. “Coryo’s just left.” The dread that had begun as a trickle now flooded Metis’ stomach.

“Left? To where? Where did he go?” Worry crept into Metis’ voice. Herself and Coriolanus had never been a typical couple. Had never kissed or exchanged ‘I love you’’s, but they still cared for each other. Or at least Metis cared for Coriolanus. 

She could never wage his emotions towards her. He was nicer to her than he was to their classmates. He let her in on his real feelings about them in fact, which was more than she ever really expected from him. He told her about the hatred that he was sure Dean Highbottom harboured for him. He even confided in her about his worries to carry on the family’s legacy and make his lineage proud. But those moments were as rare as the Grandma’am refusing to sing the National Anthem and usually resulted in him acting distant and cold towards her for days at a time. Wherever he had run off to Metis wasn’t too surprised that he hadn’t let her know.

“He didn’t tell you?” Tigris’ eyes widened. “He’s joined the Peacekeepers. He shipped off this morning on the first train.” Metis’ stomach sunk, whether from dread or surprise she wasn’t completely sure. Surprise as the Coriolanus she knew would’ve never willingly enlisted for the Peacekeepers. He took too much pride in his last name - and the privilege it came with - all too much to join their ranks. And dread from the idea that she knew exactly which district he was in and why.

“All of a sudden? But- he and Lucy Gray just won the Games, why would he leave so suddenly? And to be a Peacekeeper of all reasons?” The taste of the newest Victor’s name on her tongue almost threw Metis off her line of questions. She knew why he left and why exactly he became a Peacekeeper. It was all about her.

Tigris leaned out into the hall, her head swivelling from right to left before beckoning Metis inside. Metis stepped inside, allowing Tigris to close the door behind her before leading her to the dining room, away from the front door. Metis couldn’t help but notice the way Tigris leant against the table, as if her thoughts were bearing down on her, leaving her unbalanced.

“He cheated, Metis,” the older girl’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her eyes, rimmed red with bags beneath them, stared into Metis’ own. “He cheated for Lucy Gray to win. Highbottom gave him no choice. It was either be publicly shamed or join the ranks for twenty years and we both know how much pride Coriolanus has over our name.”

Metis simply stood as Tigris all but collapsed into the nearest chair, her head falling into her hands as if her little energy had been used to hold the weight of her cousin’s wrongdoing. The new information swirled in her mind. Coriolanus had cheated. Cheated to help Lucy Gray win and escape death numerous times. He had done all this for her, a District girl, and was now serving his punishment. Emotions churned and intertwined in her stomach. Surprise, anger, amusement, grief, relief. The chair scraped against the ground as she pulled it from under the table and took a seat.

“Did he say what District he was being assigned to?” Metis’ voice came out quiet but strong. There was no hint of a quaver or shake in her question. She couldn’t say she wasn’t at least a little hurt by the Snow boy’s actions but she wasn’t surprised. Although the two were never affectionate or all that close, it was now clear to the Pyralis girl where she stood in her future husband’s eyes. It may not have been a choice for him - public humiliation and shame for the rest of his life or being a Peacekeeper - but it was in Metis’ eyes. He had chosen Lucy Gray over her. Even when he was the one who needed her, not the other way around. 

“He didn’t say.” Even in the quiet of the apartment Metis had to strain to hear Tigris’ voice, any effort she’d had having been sucked out of her. If Dean Highbottom had been the one to give Coriolanus his punishment he never would’ve chosen Twelve for him. He wouldn’t have wanted for Coriolanus to have any sense of hope while serving his punishment. She also doubted that One, Two or Four were possible, seeing as they were the better off districts. No, he must be somewhere in the middle. At least that was what Metis allowed herself to believe despite knowing that Coriolanus had his methods. If he were brave enough to try and outsmart the Games why wouldn’t he try to outsmart the system one last time?

“I’m so sorry, Tigris. For you and the Grandma’am. I can’t begin to imagine how hard this must be for you both.”

“We’ll survive. After all: Snow lands on top.” Tigris scoffs at her own words, pressing her forehead into the heel of her hand. “He really didn’t say anything to you? No goodbyes at all?” There was sincerity in Tigris’ eyes. Somehow, the Pyralis and Snow heirs had been able to trick their family members into believing that they were closer and more affectionate than they were. Of course Tigris would be in disbelief that Coriolanus had not wished his future wife farewell. Metis simply shook her head and offered a small smile. Tigris’ hand grasped Metis’ atop the table, squeezing gently. 

“Well I’m sure he’ll write once he gets the chance. He must’ve been too overwhelmed to say anything in person.” Metis took note of how the older girl hadn’t brought up the future wedding, nevertheless the engagement that had yet to happen. The question of whether she was expected to wait twenty years for him burned at the back of her mind. He had run off for another girl, yet was she expected to grow old while waiting for him to return? The complications of what he had left her to deal with began to knot and form an ache in her head, but she knew they were nothing to compare with what Tigris now had to handle on her own.

“Will you and the Grandma’am be alright here, Tigris?” Something shifted in the older girl’s eyes at the question. A smile began to form on her face before slipping as her glance found its way from Metis’ face to the table between them. Tigris wasn’t weak, she never had been, at least to Metis’ knowledge who had known her the majority of her life. But her strength was beginning to diminish and Metis could see it. If the blonde had the same pride as her cousin and grandmother then she would deny any struggles they were bound to have with Coriolanus gone. From her lack of response, Metis knew that the Snow’s pride ran deep. “Come and stay with me and my father.”

At that Tigris’ head almost whipped to gauge Metis’ reaction.

“What? Metis, no. No we couldn’t, it would be too much-”

“Tigris,” Metis now placed her hand over Tigris’. “Please. Let me help you. There will be help to aid with the Grandma’am and you won’t have to worry about the property bills. I know how much this apartment means to your family and I’m sure I can talk my father into a plan for you to still own it and fix it up. Please let me help you.”

Fresh tears welled in Tigris’ eyes, causing her to laugh and dab at them with a clean corner of her handkerchief. Metis could practically see the weight lift off her friend’s shoulders, causing her own grin to form on her face.

“Are you sure? That’s a lot to take in and especially to ask your father to help with the expenses-”

“Oh, nonsense, Tigris. You Snows have always been welcome in our home. Besides, we’re practically family already.” 

Metis spent the next day helping Tigris and the Grandma’am pack up the apartment and move into her family’s estate. With the help of some of the Pyralis family’s servants the apartment was entirely packed up and moved into either storage or the Pyralis estate within a day. 

Saturday night, after her discussion with Tigris, Metis had gone home and pitched her idea to her father. Orpheus Pyralis had not been hard to convince, being a longtime family friend of the Snows, he was happy to help them out. Of course, he wasn’t aware of the true reason why the Snows were moving in. Tigris and Metis had agreed on the story that it was simply too lonely in the apartment without Coriolanus and that Metis had put out the idea of the two women moving in with them for the time being. When it came to asking for help with paying for the apartment it was only a matter of bringing up the renovations that Coriolanus had planned before his departure at their first dinner together with all four of them on Sunday night. Orpheus took it upon himself to pay for the renovations out of his own pocket, despite Tigris’ protests.

Monday afternoon after classes at the Academy had been dismissed, Metis found herself knocking on Dean Highbottom’s office door. The dean grumbled a “come in,” causing Metis to push open the doors, revealing the man to be leaned back in his chair, an empty morphling vial in his hand. 

“Dean Highbottom,” Metis greeted, the double doors closing behind her as she stood in front of his tall desk. The older man glanced down at her, acknowledging her presence as he tossed the glass vial to his desk. 

“Ms.Pyralis. I assume you’re here about your fiance.”

“Yes, sir. I know he’s left to join the Peacekeepers, but I was wondering if there was any information about his placement that you could provide.” A deep sigh came from the dean, his hand rising to rub the crease between his brows. 

“I’d expected a smart girl like yourself to have taken my word and separated yourself from Coriolanus Snow at my first warning.” 

“He’s been arranged to be my fiance, sir. I can’t simply forget about him.”

“Forget about him like he’s forgotten about you?” The dean and the student’s eyes met then. The older of the duo portrayed a challenging air while the younger fought to keep her cool. Casca Highbottom had seen through the image that she had been fighting to upkeep for Coriolanus and his family. The image of a happy, soon-to-be engaged couple who had no cracks in their foundation. No one needed a magnifying glass to see the broken pieces that Coriolanus had begun to create on the day of the Reaping. What he and his songbird had left for her to deal with. All day she’d only received pitiful looks, everyone had noticed the newest Victor’s absence and they had all seen on their screens the way he and his tribute had acted around the other. In a way that he and Metis had never even come close to recreating. Now the dean, the man who Coriolanus despised and who despised him right back, was staring her down after making a note of her fiance-to-be’s abandonment. Metis could only glare back. Anything she could say would only serve to display her as weak, pitiful and delusional. 

The dean now leaned forward on his desk, closer towards the girl. “Listen closely this time, Ms.Pyralis, and take note.” Metis’ breath caught as she waited for the dean’s speech. “Coriolanus Snow is no good and will never step foot back in the Capitol again. He’s better off where he is and you’re better off forgetting about him.” 

The dean then went back to the papers strewn across his desk, leaving Metis to stew in his words. Her heart rate had picked up, her breathing loud in her ears, her face flushed. 

“Is he with her?” Metis’ words echoed in the room, louder than she intended but they carried her urgency. She would heed the dean’s warnings if he would just give her an answer. At least if it was the answer she was really searching for. Highbottom’s eyes flicked up, a loud sigh escaping his lips. 

“He was assigned to Eight.” Eight. That was good. It wasn’t Twelve. Unless Coriolanus was stupid enough to somehow get himself re-assigned to Twelve, there was almost no chance that he was with Lucy Gray. “Is that all, Ms.Pyralis?”

Metis nodded and thanked the man before leaving the office. She was satisfied. Coriolanus wasn’t in Twelve with Lucy Gray. She didn’t hate the girl. No, in fact, Metis was rather fond of Lucy Gray and felt the need to protect her. From what she wasn’t sure, but she knew it deep in her bones to look out for the younger girl. She admired her strength and the way she carried herself. If she hated her for anything it was the effect she had on Coriolanus. 

Metis didn’t wish for him to love her or for him to even act like he did. All she wanted was his respect. For him to take their arrangement as seriously as she did. After all, it was his family who needed her family’s money. In fact, she didn’t even need him at all, but she respected his family and her father’s connection with them enough to not ruin their relationship and reputation by publicly going after another like he had done to her. As long as he wasn’t anywhere near Lucy Gray she was happy.

As Metis turned after closing the dean’s office doors she almost ran headfirst into a figure standing right outside. She gasped quietly, looking up into the piercing, rather chilling, eyes of Dr.Gaul. The older woman smiled down at her, her bright red lips pulled back over her menacing, gleaming teeth. 

“Why, Metis Pyralis. What a surprise to see you here, classes ended over half an hour ago.” Dr.Gaul towered over her as Metis tried to calm her galloping heart. Clearing her throat and straightening her back, she refused to cower despite the gamemaker’s threatening air. 

“Dr.Gaul,” Metis greeted, a pleasant smile plastered on her face. “I had a question for Dean Highbottom is all. Have a good evening.” Metis’ relieved sigh caught in her throat as Dr.Gaul called for her to wait a moment. Metis turned back around to face the teacher. She stood awkwardly as the older woman’s eyes scanned her up and down, her smile having been replaced by a straight faced expression.

“Accompany me to my lab for a short moment, would you? There’s something concerning a certain Mr.Snow that I’d like to discuss.” Before Metis could even think up an excuse to not go, Dr.Gaul headed for the Academy’s main doors causing Metis to stumble after her. The head gamemaker led her to a sleek, black car parked outside the Academy where she climbed in first, leaving the door open behind her. Metis slipped into her seat, trying to discreetly sit as far as she could from the older woman. 

The short car ride passed in uncomfortable silence with Metis’ mind running at a thousand miles per hour as she pondered over what was so important to show her right now and whether her driver had seen her climb in this car and if he was following them to the Citadel. Once the car stopped and the door opened from the outside, Metis scrambled out as fast as she could without seeming impolite. She glanced around and let out a sigh of relief as her family’s car pulled up behind Dr.Gaul’s who, without a word, walked past her and started up the steps of the grand building. 

She silently led Metis to her lab below the ground floor, walking her past cases full of odd and disfigured creatures that seemed to follow Metis with their eyes as she passed. She rolled back her shoulders and steadied her breathing as a shiver raced down her spine. Their trek eventually ended in front of a tank full of snakes identical to the ones that had been released in the arena a mere few days ago. Metis stopped in her tracks at the sight of the mutations. She could still vividly remember the image of them bursting from their cage and rapidly slithering over the arena. The way their lethal bites had killed multiple tributes in only moments and left them almost unrecognizable. Bits of Lucy Gray’s powerful song wafted through her mind, sending even more chills down her back. She watched, frozen in place, as Dr.Gaul reached inside the tank and plucked one of the serpents, cradling it in her hands as if the venom of its relatives hadn’t killed a handful of children in front of the entire Capitol less than a week ago.

“You’re worried about your Mr.Snow, aren’t you Ms.Pyralis?” Dr.Gaul asked, stroking the body of her venomous house pet. Your. As if Coriolanus belonged to her. Their future engagement - if there was still one to happen - wasn’t private news, which happened to be the aspect of which that Metis was the least fond of. Maybe if it had been kept between their two families until a proposal had actually taken place they both would’ve been saved a fair amount of trouble.

“Yes, ma’am,” Metis said as confidently as she could muster. “I just wanted to ask Dean Highbottom if he had any information on which district he had been assigned to. His cousin and grandmother are worried about him as well and just want the best for him.” Dr.Gaul hummed, inspecting the snake in her hands before switching it out for another in the tank.

“Well, I can tell you that Mr.Snow may be home sooner than you think. But that happens to be up to him.”

“How so?”

“Your Mr.Snow is partaking in a test of mine.” There it was again: your. “He will be back in no time if he passes. If not then,” she paused, taking care to make sure she made direct eye contact with Metis. “It would be smart of you to move on. Otherwise twenty years is a rather long time to wait. Unless your love for him runs that deep.” Dr.Gaul’s eyes seemed to bear down to Metis’ core, causing her back to stiffen and her chin to lift in a defensive manner. Her words cut the same way that the Dean’s had. They both knew that her relationship with Coriolanus was conditional. She’d give them credit for seeing through them had her fiance-to-be not made it blatantly obvious. “But I wouldn’t worry about him,” the tension in the air seemed to fizz out, if only slightly, at Dr.Gaul’s sudden break of eye contact. “Your future fiance is smart, though of course you would know.”

Metis nodded her head, as an answer and as an attempt to shake the overwhelming buzz of anxiety flooding her mind.

“What exactly is he being tested on if I may ask?” Metis’ voice sounded too quiet, too small for her liking. It was as if the lab was sucking every ounce of energy from her the longer she remained there. However, she needed her answers first.

“His loyalty of course.” Metis held back a scoff. Hopefully Coriolanus’ loyalty to their arrangement wasn’t being tested, otherwise he’d have a long twenty years before him.

“Is this about Lucy Gray?”

“Not in the way you assume,” Dr.Gaul flashed her a bright smile which Metis almost returned. “If I were to judge his loyalty to yourself then, well, who’s to say if he’d ever be seen in the Capitol again. Loyalty to the Capitol is what I am most interested in when it comes to Mr.Snow.” Maybe Coriolanus did have a chance to come home after all, yet something still nagged at Metis in her chest. How was Lucy Gray still involved if what Dr.Gaul had said was true? Hadn’t the poor girl been put through enough? 

“Do you happen to know which District he’s been ordered to?” The Dean’s answer hadn’t been enough to fully satiate Metis’ curiosity and worry. She trusted Dean Highbottom but she needed just a bit more. While she assumed that the dean had her best interest at heart, Dr.Gaul had the Capitol’s best interest in hers. Dr.Gaul, with another different brightly coloured snake in hand, turned to look at her with those chilling irises.

“You’re not planning on going after him, are you?” Metis was quick to shake her head. She was desperate for Coriolanus to finally respect their arrangement, but not desperate enough to run off after him.

“Just looking for answers, ma’am.” Dr.Gaul seemed to consider her for a second, looking her up and down once again. Metis felt like one of the many mutations under a microscope. Like a prey animal. Dr.Gaul seemed to get her answer because after seemingly analysing Metis for what felt like far too long, she replied with: “I believe he signed himself up for District Twelve.”

Twelve.

“Does that answer your question, Ms.Pyralis?”

“Yes ma’am, thank you.”

As soon as Metis was out the front doors of the Citadel she ran for her family’s parked car, throwing open the door and practically throwing herself inside. She was grateful that her driver didn’t ask questions and simply drove off as soon as the door closed behind her. 

She knew in her gut that Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were together again. 

When Lucy Gray had been a tribute she hadn’t worried. She knew that once the Games were over and Lucy Gray was either dead or shipped back to District Twelve, Coriolanus would be hers and only hers. She didn’t need or want him or his lack of money, but she did, however, want him to remember what he was putting at risk. 

Not only was he risking his and his family’s reputations but hers as well. He had no respect for all that she had done for him over the years, keeping his family’s struggles a secret, aiding them in any way she could without giving their financial state away to her father. She even continued to keep it a secret while having his grandmother and cousin moved into her family’s home. While he was off playing house, she was here doing damage control for him. If he decided to stay in District Twelve for her and word got out - there was no repairing her reputation. She would be known as the Capitol girl who got rejected for a District girl. 

She couldn’t blame Coriolanus. Lucy Gray had captured the attention and hearts of almost everyone in the Capitol, including her own, but he was playing with fire. And he was being severely overestimated if he didn’t realize that fire melts snow.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x original character #the hunger games #thg #thg series #thg fic #original character #thg original character #the hunger games fic #mrpldiddles #mrpldiddles fic #tom blyth #rachel zegler #hunter schafer

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .1

Masterlist

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: a young actor moves across the hall from an aspiring ballerina. (college au kinda)

word count: 1562

a/n: i've had this idea knocking around in my brain for a few days and finally got to penning it down -- enjoy!

August 2016

The sun stretched its golden rays across the morning sky in New York City, the last embrace of summer's fading heat lingered in the air. The city bustled under a whispering breeze that carried the promise of change, as tree leaves, once adorned in vibrant green, began their slow transformation into a canvas of crimson and gold. Amidst the streets, a serene anticipation filled the air, capturing the essence of a city transitioning as the summer activities came to a close and the kids were dreading the return to school.

The wheels on Tom's luggage clacked against the cracks and bumps in the concrete sidewalk, bleary and tired eyes scanning between his phone and the address placards on the various condos. He knew he should've taken a cab, but the bus was so much cheaper and Google indicated it was only a five minute walk to his new living quarters anyway.

He finally stopped in front of a brick building, the address placard worn and rusted from the elements but the numbers matched up with that on his itinerary. The other cue that gave it away was the variety of art pieces in windows and hung over bannisters and fire escapes. Tom lugged his bag up the three stone steps and ducked inside.

The lobby was pale, dingy and in dire need of a fresh coat of paint; not to mention the air held hints of mothballs and burnt microwaved popcorn. An older woman was sat behind a desk, reclined in her chair while glazed eyes were focused on her computer screen. Tom approached slowly, hoping his smile could cover the exhaustion hiding in his face.

"Hello,"

The woman's eyes were the last to focus when she turned her head, blinking over her glasses and a warm smile graced her face, "Oh, hello! You must be... erm..." she suddenly grabbed a clipboard and scanned the tiny text, "... Jacob Nielson?" she spoke in the classic Brooklyn accent with exaggerated vowels and nasally undertones.

"No," he shook his head politely, "My name's Tom. Blyth," he replied.

She scanned her list with her pen, gasping aloud when she found his name, "I see, now! Very nice to meet you, my name's Doris -- I'm the super here. You're my renter from London, right?"

"Yeah. Well -- Yorkshire specifically,"

"I didn't do so well in geography, honey. Have mercy," Doris replied as she stood up, heading for the wall of cubbies behind her, "So tell me, which insane asylum are you checking into?"

" -- Excuse me?"

"What school are you attending?" she asked again, her fingers flourishing across the cubbies.

Tom nodded, "I'm starting at Julliard next week. I'm an actor," he replied.

Doris scoffed, "Yeah? You and everybody's dog, honey," she pulled a key from a specific slot and returned to the desk, "But you got a nice face, maybe you'll luck out,"

Tom wasn't sure whether or not he should've taken that as a compliment, so he simply smiled back and accepted the key, "Um, thank you,"

"You're on floor three, room 14. Your roommate should already be moved in, he can give you a tour of the place," she explained, "If you need anything, leaky faucets fixed and whatnot just come down and see me,"

"Thank you, Doris," he took his bag and started for the elevator on the right of the room, but Doris called out to him again.

"Hold on, handsome! Elevator's broke! Hasn't worked since Giuliani was mayor," she pointed to the left, "Stairs are over there,"

Tom huffed under his breath; he was tired and the last thing he wanted was to lug his suitcase up three flights of stairs. Nevertheless, he gave Doris one more polite grin as he started for the staircase.

The sun cast stark patterns across the stairs, the skewed silhouettes of the window panes interrupted by Tom's own shadow as he made his trek up. He hadn't at first registered the thundering of footsteps above him until a group of kids rushed passed him.

"C'mon! We're gonna miss the bus!" The stairwell was relatively narrow, arms and bodies knocking into Tom until he nearly slipped and his grip loosened on his suitcase. The suitcase went tumbling down the stairs, smacking hard against the opposing wall and the latches burst open. His belongings spilled everywhere.

Tom grumbled to himself, trekking down the stairs again to clean up the mess. One of the kids however hung back, trailing behind her group but she'd witnessed Tom's misfortune. She double backed up the stairs, staring in astonishment at the clothes and knick knacks, then at him.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

Tom was crouched over the ground when he looked up, coming face-to-face with the concerned expression of a young brunette. She was lean and petite, dressed down in denim shorts and black tank top. Her converse had two different coloured laces, one red and one yellow. He found that peculiar.

"I'm alright," Tom assured her, "If this is the worst thing that happens to me today, then it's not such a bad day, right?" he tried to laugh it off.

The girl simpered, "Sure," nevertheless she crouched down to help him. One of her friends called out from below.

"Noelle! C'mon! We're gonna miss the bus!" she shouted.

The girl -- Noelle -- shouted back, "Go ahead, Bianca! I'll catch up with you guys!"

"But the movie starts in an hour! It's take forty five minutes from here, man!"

"It's twenty minutes of previews, anyways!" she turned back to Tom, her cheeks tinting bashfully, "Sorry about that,"

"Don't worry. You should go with your friends, I'll be fine," he replied.

Noelle scoffed, "Can I trust you with a secret?"

"Sure,"

"I hate horror movies,"

Tom smiled, "And lemme' guess: they're going to see a horror movie?"

"Don't Breathe. Some kids break into a blind guy's house and he ends up killing them all and quite frankly -- I can go my whole life without more nightmares," she replied, a coy smile playing at her lips.

"Don't half blame you. I'm not the biggest fan, myself," he said, "Do you live here?"

"Yep. That nutcase shouting at me was my roommate," she replied, "Sorry, I didn't get your name,"

"Tom,"

"Very nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances," she chuckled back.

"Don't worry about it -- Noelle," he grinned.

She helped him clean up and pack his things, leading him back upstairs to his room. He assured her he could manage but Noelle insisted, saying it was the least she could do for his trouble.

"Room 14?" she cocked a brow when he told her, the corners of her lips pulling back to bare her clenched teeth.

"Yeah. What's wrong?" Tom asked apprehensively, "I don't have a serial killer for a roommate, right?"

Noelle shook her head, "No, no, you get Sunny. And he's just like his name -- absolute sunshine human being,"

"... I sense there's a 'but' coming," he trailed.

"He's a scholarship violinist, he's brilliant. And he's so brilliant because he practices at all hours of the night," she explained, "... All hours. You might wanna invest in some noise cancelling ear plugs,"

Tom nodded, relieved that at least his new roomie didn't sound like a dickhead, "Thanks for the advice,"

They stopped in front of the door, a worn brass 14 glinting subtly in the light. Tom fished out the key from his pocket, "I guess this is me,"

"Oh, damn," Noelle huffed, glancing at the door across from them, "You get the insane neighbours,"

His eyes flitted between her and the door, "... Whatcha' mean by that?"

Noelle pulled a key from her pocket, "Well, they're dancers for one. So they're always playing music, talking shit, burning their instant noodles because they're half-daft," with that she shoved the key into the lock and twisted, and sure enough the door opened.

Tom glanced at her, sheer amusement crossing over his face. He simpered under his breath, "You're my half-daft dancer neighbour who burns her instant noodles?"

"Unfortunately for you," she confirmed, half smirking.

"And how does one burn their instant noodles?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it," she closed and locked the door again, "But I'll let you get settled in. If you need anything at all, you can just pop over,"

"Thank you, Noelle," he smiled, "And thanks again for --" he stopped suddenly when he heard a faint violin melody from the other side of his door. It was a beautiful melody nonetheless, and it had him intrigued, "I suppose that's my roommate?"

Noelle nodded back, "Yep. I promise you, he's a sweetheart," she started walking backwards towards the stairwell, "I'm sorry again about earlier,"

"Don't give it a second thought. Have fun at your movie," he replied.

She giggled sardonically, "Oh trust me, I'll have a blast. I'll see you around, Tom,"

Tom gave her a small wave, watching her until she disappeared around the corner, could hear her shoes squeaking as she trotted down the stairs. He couldn't deny he found her quite a looker, a small part of him giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting to know his new neighbour. The violin melody continued to play on the other side of the door, and taking a deep breath for confidence, he pushed the key into the lock and opened the door...

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #original story #original female character #imagine blog

[saturnville]

in the dirty south.

pairing: cowboy!coriolanus snow x black fem oc. warnings: old slang, sexual innuendo, flirting, sorta forbidden infatuation if you blink. shy!oc. content: while at a town fair with her family, delilah finds herself heavily infatuated with the new face in town. an: the people have spoken. cowboy!coriolanus is here. definitely called on my grandmother's southern roots for this so be prepared. I don't know who started cowboy!coriolanus, but all respect and credit to the individual who did. please let me know what y'all think of this!

tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesim to keep your spot on the tag list, you are expected to interact!

Outside visiters were not a common occurance the city. The town was small and everybody knew everybody. One would be a fool to think anything that occured in their lives wouldn't be common knowledge to the inhabitants of the town. She wished she had the same type of delusion.

Once every few months, the mayor of the town found it suitable to host a fair. Something to ease the growing tensions between the families and to usher in a type of fun no one had seen since the rebellions took place.

She wouldn't say she didn't enjoy the fairs, but she knew there were other ways to spend her time aside from handing out freshly baked slices of poundcake and a cup of milk, courtesy of her mother and grandmother.

"Delilah! It's time to go, baby." Her mother's voice was rough like gravel yet soothing like silk. Everyone called her comparison foolish, as they didn't understand. But, until they felt the way her words calmed their soul like a newborn being rocked by its mother, they never would.

Delilah hollered back, "Comin', mama!" She stood in front of the mirror--dingy and stained from being passed down from her great-great-grandmother, and so short that she had to stand on her toes to see her full outfit. Her hands swiped over the fabric of her dress. It was new; her grandmother spent 3 weeks making it. A corset dress as bright as the dust that left her shoulders exposed to the kisses of the sun. She smiled at her reflection and pushed her hair away from her face. She shoved her feet into her boots and ran down the stairs.

Delilah questioned if they arrived late or if everyone else arrived early in anticipation. She bobbed and weaved through the sea of black and brown with a smile on her face. Small "pardon mes" and "excuse mes" poured from her lips like water as she attempted not to knock anyone over with her basket.

She followed her mother like a lost puppy to their assigned tent. Right next to Uncle Turner's barbeque restauraunt and the bathroom. Perfect, she said to herself. Lucille dropped the basket against the wood table and began plucking out the tablecloth and napkins.

"Lilah, I'm gon' grab some pitchers of water inside Turner's. I'll be back shortly." Mama's lips turned upward with a soft smile. Delilah nodded and continued her setting up the table.

Beads of sweat gathered at her forehead and her brown skin stung under the gaze of a burning sun. God, she hoped they wouldn't be outside for 10 hours like they were the last time. She couldn't sworn she melted like an ice cream cone within an hour.

Delilah hummed a church hymn to herself and tossed the basket behind her. She plopped down on the ragged bench and crossed her legs just as her mother taught her years ago, folded her hands over her lap, and watched as people walked passed.

People watching was one of her favorite pasttimes. To her left was a young girl riding on her wooden rocking horse, squealing with glee. To her right was a group of young boys tackling each other to the ground as their mother hollered for them to quit roughhousing. Delilah giggled.

She raised her eyes and jerked backward when she saw a group of men walking past. Four of them to be exact. Three were familiar faces: Elijah, Malachi, and Ezra. The boys whom she grew up with. They used to sleep in the same bed together when their mothers worked at the restaurant late at night. But, there was another one she'd never seen before.

He was unfamiliar. There were a few white boys sprinkled here and there, but in her town, it wasn't a frequent occurance. He seemed comfortable, too, with a boyish smirk on his face as he made the boys' head fly back with glee.

She could tell his hands were strong by the way they latched around the harness that allowed him to control the beautiful horse he rode upon. She looked around and saw other women eyeing the stranger. Who was he?

The man slid off the horse and tied the harness against a stake, and followed the men as they approached her mother's tent. His eyes were curious as they examined his surroundings. Delilah brushed the loose curls away from her face and smiled. "Hi, boys."

A series of disgruntled greetings came from them as they padded around the bench to engulf Delilah in a hug. The stranger stayed in front of her, eyes narrow.

"Where's Mama?" Elijah asked. His green eyes searched for the middle-aged woman.

"She's in Turner's getting some water. Might as well help her while you're lookin' for her," Delilah suggested with a shrug. She could feel icy eyes on her. "She'll mess around and drop them tryin' to do the most. Go catch up to her."

"Delilah," said Malachi. "This is Coriolanus. We, uh, we go back. Old friends. We're gon' help, Mama, but Lilah, don't scare him off." Delilah met his eyes. "I won't."

The boys shuffled off to the restaurant to find her mother, which left Delilah in the presence of Coriolanus. It was unique. She'd never heard anything like it. It sounded prestigious, elite.

He was handsome. Messy curls underneath his hat. Strong stature covered by a thick long-sleeve shirt and vest. Her gaze dropped to his belt. Brown with a holster that held, what she assumed was, a fully loaded pistol. And his boots, worn, dirty, and scuffed, just like hers. A country boy.

"Delilah. Nice to meet you, Mr. Coriolanus." Delilah extended her hand slowly. Coriolanus turned his head to the side. Her hands were slender and her nailbeds were painted a blood red. His tongue danced over his tooth.

"No need for that, darling. Nice to meet you," he replied, gently shaking her hand. His hand was much bigger in hers. Calloused like he wrestled animals in the wilderness. Strong like they'd hold her body upright with ease. His eye contact was strong and he could feel it melting her chocolate orbs away.

When he spoke, she noticed that his accent was nowhere as thick as her own, but a southern twang was laced in his words. Almost like he'd been taught. "Where are you from?" To keep herself from getting weak in the knees, she decided to start setting out the serving ware for the cake. Coriolanus' eyes followed her every action.

"Up north," he replied shortly. "Got in a bit of a mess. Decided to come down south for a while."

Delilah hummed and pulled the lid off the poundcake. Its glaze glistened underneath the sun. Just like her. Coriolanus chuckled to himself. "Do you like it?" She looked up at him through her eyelids.

She was so beautiful. He'd seen his fair share of pretty women since being placed in a new District. But she, Lord, this Delilah was something different. She was short in stature with strong shoulders and hips that were not well hidden beneath her dress. She had a cute smile that was covered by full, cherry colored lips. And her hair, so coily and full in a bun upon her head.

Coriolanus ran his tongue over his bottom lip and nodded. "I like it a lot."

Delilah detected the tone of his voice and fought the urge to smile. "I'm glad that's the case."

It was difficult for Delilah to keep her eyes off Coriolanus. Where he moved, her eyes followed. When he spoke to another woman and charmed her with his smile and bright eyes, she felt a twing of jealousy hit. Then, she'd call herself foolish for even being the slightest bit possessive over a man she'd only known for five hours.

She did her best to keep herself preoccupied with the poundcake in front of her. It worked for the most part, until the bench wobbled by the weight of another. Delilah turned to her left and found Coriolanus leaned against the side. "Can I join you, pretty?"

Pretty. Delilah's body warmed as she nodded. Coriolanus swung his leg over the side of the bench and took a seat. His clothed thigh brushed against her exposed once, causing her leg to jump slightly. He noticed, but chose not to say anything.

"You enjoying the fair?" Coriolanus asked.

"Yeah. It's always a fun time. Plus the food is great, too." She raised her fork that held a piece of cake on it. "Have you tried the poundcake? My mama makes the best ever."

Coriolanus shook his head. Delilah gathered a piece on the fork and held it out with the intention for him to pluck it off, but she was shocked when his full lips wrapped around the edge of the fork. His eyes were trained on hers. A gasp fell from her lips.

He hummed softly. "Delicious." He prepared to spur her on further, finding amusement in her disheveled state, but was called back by Elijah. "I'm comin'!. Save some for me later, darlin'. I'll see you later, alright?"

Delilah nodded and bit her lip. "Alright."

He threw her a wink and walked away. He was far from done with her.

#saturnville #original writing #original characters #black!reader #black reader #fic inspo #the hunger games #thg #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x black reader #coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus #young!coriolanus snow #alternate universe #cowboy!coriolanus #cowboy!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x delilah mae by saturnville #cowboy!coriolanus x delilah mae by saturnville

[summerdiphylleia]

The next right thing

Chapter 1: The 74th Hunger Games

Summary: Felicia has always been succesful at overlooking the tributes' names and faces, but ignoring Katniss Everdeen was proving to be a rather difficult task. And she hated herself for it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x wife!oc

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

*******************

“Are you ready, my dear? Our guests are arriving.”

Felicia stood against the bathroom counter, staring at the mirror. The same mirror that had been looking back at her for over twenty years. Two decades, wasting away in that mansion. It was hard to believe so many years had passed, but the reflection in front of her reminded Felicia of all the years gone by. There were wrinkles around her eyes, and the skin sagged a little around her cheeks and her neck.

She was often offered ‘enhancements’, as they liked to call it in the Capitol, but she refused all of them with a polite smile. She liked the way she looked, worn down as she was. Her eyes remained the same tender, amber brown, although they carried more wisdom and worry than before. Her hair still bore hints of the soft, buttery blonde colour she kept from her youth, but was starting to get lost within the handful of grey hairs she’d grown in the last couple of years. She usually had them fixed by her hairdresser, but didn’t brood on it so much. She took pride in carrying sixty years of age, and she didn’t mind showing it. 

She turned around, and found her husband waiting with a hand extended for her. He also showed signs of ageing, even more so than her: his once impeccable blonde hair had turned completely white, and his face looked withered down; like her he had declined any offers of going under the knife. 

But he had kept his height —he still very much towered over her— and every so often, when the Games were far off and politics sat low on his mind, Felicia could swear she got glimpses of his younger self on his eyes: on the way they curved into a smile after she teased him, on the way they shone whenever they discussed a subject he was keen on, on the way they kept on sharing that spark, that boyish grin, with a man from her past that hadn't been as yearning for power, as corrupted by it. 

“Your bowtie is not properly fastened,” she chuckled, reaching towards him, “let me get it.” 

He studied her, while she worked on fixing his tie, leisurely scanning her from top to bottom. She wasn’t wearing anything too fancy, a simple maroon dress embroidered with small golden flowers, and a pair of small heels matching in colour. Her hair was half up in a bow, and makeup sat simple, not at all too extravagant, on her face. “You look ravishing, dearest.” He whispered, lovingly. She kept focused on straightening his bowtie, but she could feel her cheeks turning the colour of her dress. She wished he wouldn’t say such things so often. It sounded so real. 

Felicia simply hummed in response. “Arabella called,” she explained, in a soft voice, “she told me Max and her wouldn’t be able to attend today’s… gathering.” He stiffened at her words. 

“As they couldn’t last year. And the year before.” He remarked. Felicia briefly glanced at him, and returned her gaze to his collar. “There,” she mumbled, patting on it, “all fixed. You look very handsome.”

He didn’t reply to her, and simply adjusted his suit. He didn’t share his words with her, but she could guess what kind of thoughts raced through his mind. Every time they drifted onto that particular issue, her mind replayed one conversation they had many, many years ago. 

“What exactly are you accusing me of? Turning our infant children into rebels?” She snickered, chasing after him at an amused pace, but Felicia quickly regretted her words. Coriolanus went still, and when he turned around, the look on his face made her flinch. That was the only time she ever felt truly afraid of him. He didn’t just convey rage through his eyes, his whole body swelled on it. He suddenly grew inches in height, and his expression darkened, and she was nothing but a little girl once again. She felt all of her boldness flush away at the sight of him, regretting having allowed herself to yield into such insolence. 

He strode towards her, eyes narrowing in a viperous manner, “don’t joke with that,” he hissed. She raised her gaze, her eyes met his, and anger dropped from his face all at once, and he swiftly glanced around. “Don’t say things like that out loud, you know better than that.” 

She lowered her head. She did know better than that. 

She hated losing her temper. Every time she lost control, he took it. 

Felicia pursed her lips. “I’m sorry,” the words dragged out of her mouth, “but I’m setting my foot down on this. I don’t want them watching that… that thing.” 

Irritation flashed through his eyes once again, then he turned his back at her, and started walking away. “Fine.” 

That was the first time, but not the last one, that an orange pill found its way into her nightstand. 

Felicia blinked the memory away. “Don’t dwell on it, darling,” she sighed, “they’re too busy with work, that’s it. I’ll call them and arrange dinner for the five of us some other time, alright?” 

It was his turn to simply hum in response.

***********

The day went by in a blur. Felicia put on the same act she does every time she’s surrounded by such a crowd: she smiles, and laughs and comments on everyone’s gowns, and makes sure no guest ever has to stand with an empty glass on their hand; and she keeps close to Coriolanus and kisses him and pretends they are a perfectly loving couple. Surprisingly, that remains the easiest part of the facade. 

She doesn’t really pay attention to anything in particular during those days, rather she seeks a void within her. To her, the reaping was nothing but an affair she needed to get through, as cautiously as possible. She doesn’t focus on any of the tributes, she always tries to ignore their faces; they would all die anyway. All but one. One lucky Victor. A lucky child she would get used to seeing in most of the pretentious parties she attended, usually accompanied by a disturbingly older man from one of the high positions in society, who didn’t need to care about keeping his hands to himself. Only seldomly she wouldn’t see said Victor around in such gatherings and, not long after their absence was noted, she would hear the news of their family passing away in some tragic accident. Those nights she went to sleep concluding she’d made an art form out of turning a blind eye. 

The reaping came and went, and before she knew it she found herself in front of the whole Capitol, watching along the parade of the twenty four tributes. Once again, Felicia forced herself into haziness, avoiding to stare at any particular tribute. But the cameras kept on focusing on two of the tributes, though, and their faces were shown on the screens more often than not, even during the President’s speech. She recognised them, they were the two tributes from District 12. Felicia remembered her reapings. That girl… Katniss Everdeen, she’d volunteered for her sister, a little girl whose expression of fear made it obvious it was the first year her name was on the bowl.

Felicia scolded herself for remembering her name. It would hurt so much more when she ultimately learnt of her death. 

***********

The gardens were in full bloom that time of the year, and Felicia often found herself walking around them, buntal hat on her head, and a pair of pruning scissors on her hand. That morning she was being accompanied by her husband, and Theodore, their youngest son. He was a tall boy, with piercing blue eyes, just like his father. His older brother, Maximus, had also inherited most of Coriolanus’s appearance. It was Arabella, the marriage’s only daughter, who looked the spitting image of her.  

They were strolling around the rosarium, tending to the flowers, when Ivan, Coriolanus’ personal bodyguard, a big, brooding man with eyes of a hawk, approached them in a soft trot. “Mr. Crane is here to see you, sir.” 

“Ah, yes,” her husband nodded, putting his scissors on Theo’s hand, “I’ve called for him.” Felicia turned her gaze towards him, annoyance creeping on her mien, but didn’t say anything. She forced her face into a welcoming expression, as Ivan brought the younger man to them. 

“Seneca,” she greeted him in a kind tone, with a warm smile while offering her hand to him, “how lucky of us you’re visiting us.” 

“Mrs. Snow, you look as exquisite as always.” He addressed her, leaving a kiss on her hand. He bore a worryingly stiff grin on his face. “Sir, young man.” 

“Do tell me you’re joining us for lunch?” She urged him, with a cadence only her husband would be able to recognize as fake. “The cook is making some delicious salmon bites, you would be a lunatic for missing them.” 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, Felicia, the Games don't run all by themselves.”

She turned her lips into a cheeky pout, and then her face split into a grin. “Then you’ll have to let me invite you over some other time, so I can properly commend you for the wonderful job you’re doing on them.” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled.

Coriolanus and Felicia shared a brisk glance, and she took Theodore by his shoulder. “Come on, sweetling, let’s keep our path. There’s a rosebush over there that desperately needs our help.” 

They waved the gamemaker goodbye, and moved on with their way. Theo looked at her like he wanted to say something else, but she discreetly shushed him, guiding him into a more isolated spot, away from the two men and prying ears of the greenkeepers. 

The pair sat on a bench, next to a particularly unkempt bush, and she showed him where the plant needed to be trimmed and neatened. 

“Mom, why do you hate Seneca?” The boy asked, cautiously, while indifferently working on the roses. 

The question caught her by surprise, and Felicia couldn’t help but giggle, until she saw the serious expression on his face.“What makes you think I hate him?” She questioned him, puzzled. 

“It is because he’s in charge of the Games, isn’t it?” He muttered, “I don’t like him either.” 

Felicia put the scissors away, and gently stroked his hair. “Sweetheart, where is this coming from?” She asked. 

“They make us watch the Games at the Academy, did you know?” He explained, meeting her gaze. She nodded. Of course she was aware. She knew it was only a matter of time before he started commenting on it. “Most of my classmates think it’s some kind of… show, like it’s nothing but entertainment.” 

It pained Felicia to see the defeated look on his face, but she couldn’t help but think of how lucky she was to be having such a conversation with her son, condemning the Games from their very privileged position. She couldn’t bring herself to imagine what mothers in the districts were forced to tell their children. Once again, a sneaky thought crept into her mind. “What if you killed him?”  She blinked it away. 

“Well, you can’t blame all of them, honey,” she sighed, “it’s what they’re instilled.” 

“I know,” he murmured, “I guess I’m just glad you taught us better than that.” 

Felicia smiled, and wrapped him in a hug, leaving a kiss on his head. “You know you can’t say that kind of thing around others, right?” She whispered into his ear. He nodded. She grimaced. She had taught them right. 

***********

The rest of the week went by just as fast. Felicia was demanded to be in the front of the crowd for the tribute interviews, and she did it gracefully. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t help but notice the tributes from District 12. They had bewitched all of the Capitol citizens, especially after the boy had come forward with his crush for Katniss. For the girl, she reminded herself. Everyone swooned over the star-crossed lovers, but Felicia could tell a performance when she saw one. And she had to recognise, it was a very smart one indeed, surely it was securing them with a good amount of patrons. 

With the interviews gone by, and the tributes already within the arena, Felicia could finally numb the rest of the Games out. They were the only thing everyone in the mansion and the Capitol could talk about of course, but she had always found it easy to disappear into her tasks. She answered correspondence, decorated the mansion, went for fashion fittings, attended charity events, visited her two oldest children, occasionally helping them with their work at the hospital. It felt nice reminiscing about her days as a surgeon, when she actually felt useful for something. 

She had Lan, her trusted bodyguard for over twenty years, update her on any news about the Games, in case she found it necessary to discuss such events with anyone of political importance, and day after day she was surprised she felt relieved to hear the District 12 tributes were still alive. 

One day, she heard Cesar Flickerman come into television, announcing that if two tributes of the same district were the last remaining survivors, the two would be declared winners. And for the first time in over thirty years, Felicia sat down and watched the Hunger Games.

******

so, this might be turning into a series after all! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x wife!oc #coriolanus snow x wife #the hunger games #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x oc #president snow #president snow x wife!oc #president snow x oc #lucy gray baird #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #coriolanus snow wife #coriolanus snow x original female character #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow x y/n

[konohokelly]

LEECH - Sejanus Plinth (1/2)

Leeches are segmented parasitic or predatory worms that comprise the subclass Hirudinea.

Summary: Hirudinea Snow is going to baby-trap Sejanus Plinth to get her hands on the Plinth fortune. Warnings: Sex, manipulation, sexual assault (baby-trapping), toxicity, gaslighting, OC is a bitch, Sejanus is too good for her, OC is a bad person through and through, OC is a Capitol supremacist, Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Minors DNI Past!Hilarius Heavensbee I’m a first time smut writer. Sorry if it’s not good :( MC is fem and named but her appearance is NEVER explicitly described.

Borders by @saradika on tumblr

Graduation was a few months away, and Hirudinea Snow saw no future ahead.

Hirudinea was a lot of things; she was mean-spirited, spiteful, judgmental and shallow. Or at least that's what she's been told.

If her outside matched her inside, she would be as hideous as could be, but they didn't match, and she thought herself to be fairly good-looking. After all, she didn't have much else going for her.

Unlike her older sister, Tigris, she wasn't talented at anything in particular, and unlike her cousin Coriolanus, she wasn't academically inclined.

This was going to be a problem. Her time at the Academy was coming to an end, and she couldn't cheat off Coriolanus to get into University like she had done to secure her place at the Academy.

She often dreamt of her childhood before the uprisings when she was content with the family fortune, but they were brought to ruin by those ungrateful districts, and the money wasn't coming back. It was blown to bits with District 13.

If Hirudinea had her way, the rest of the districts would have ended up like 13, but the Hunger Games would just have to do.

It was times like this that she ruminated on the Plinth family, who were dirt beneath her shoes, yet they lived like kings while she holed away in this rat's nest they called an apartment. And Sejanus Plinth was the worst of them.

She couldn't keep her vision from turning red whenever he spoke against the Capitol in class. He should be thankful that people like her tolerated his living amongst them.

‘I deserve everything he has. It’s not fair.’

Yet he had a legacy set out for him, and all she had was a year left at the academy. After which, her popularity with the student body would mean nothing, and all her friends would move on.

She was nothing, and she contributed nothing. Tigris took care of the family, and Corio studied hard to take them out of poverty, but how would he afford university? How would Tigris not burn out before she achieved her dream?

Hirudinea couldn't help them, all she did was take; she was just a parasit-

"Dinea," Tigris interrupted the depressing train as she entered the room.

"You should come while the food's still hot," Tigris informed her with a warm smile.

Right in the middle of the old oak dining table was a large loaf of bread flanked by a meager serving of butter and jam. Grandma'am and Corio were already seated, eating in silence.

Hirudinea didn't bother using the knife. Tearing into the bread, she moaned as the taste of freshly baked goodness filled her mouth.

"Hey!" Coriolanus exclaimed, unimpressed by her lack of table manners.

The cousins never got along; they were too alike yet too different at the same time. Both had a deep-seated cruelty but while he kept his sentiments disguised, she struggled not to let them out.

"Don't shout at little Dinea, Coriolanus. Manners!" Grandma'am warned. It was no secret that Dinea was the favorite grandchild. The girl could get away with anything in their home.

She tutted smugly at Coriolanus before turning to Tigris with her mouth still full.

"It's sooo good. How did we afford fresh bread?"

"I, um... I had some extra money from work," Tigris rushed out, quickly turning away to cut a piece for herself.

Hirudinea threw her gaze across the table, meeting Coriolanus's. They both knew what Tigris did to feed them tonight.

It was one of the many things they acknowledged but never voiced aloud.

Sensing an oncoming uncomfortable silence, Hirudinea quickly changed the topic. "You'll never guess who Lysistrata was spotted with last week."

She looked off mysteriously, hoping to drum up interest in the otherwise irrelevant drama.

Back in her room, Hirudinea resumed her wallowing as she flipped through the gossip column in yesterday's newspaper.

She thought of the bread and the things her sweet sister had to do to put food on the table. Their parents would be rolling in their graves to see their daughter reduced to such. How Tigris was worth.

Hirudinea’s eyes landed on the story of a woman who was impregnated by some society woman's husband and has allegedly been living off the child care allowance ever since.

'Isn't that funny, my life is going down the drain but some hussy gets pregnant and...'

A lightbulb went off in Hirudinea's head. She sat up on the bed, a scheme coming to life in her mind, one that would change everything.

Hirudinea would get her fortune, and she would leverage all she had to get it.

For the first time in probably forever, Hiridinea was excited to be in school.

Today was the first day of her new life.

It was easy.

All she had to do was have a baby. She decided that going off with some gross old man would leave her with too little control so the father of her child would have to be around her age.

She never cared much for children. She wanted them at some point, but it was never a priority and never for any reason more than she felt she was supposed to have them.

But now there was urgency to it. The only question was which one of her classmates would be the patsy.

She sat in the last row of the class alone today, far away from her best friends, Arachne and Livia.

As she saw their mouths move in conversation, she didn't wonder what they were talking about; she knew the topic was probably her. Hirudinea didn't mind; she did it to either of them whenever the other wasn't around too.

She scoped out the boys in class. None of them would do. In fact, most of them would outright call her a slut and turn her away if she came up to them and said

"Remember that time we had sex? Yeah, you got me pregnant"

Hilarius Heavensbee was her first choice; they had dated for a long time and had similar views of the world, but he was also deathly afraid of disappointing his mother, a battleaxe of a woman who didn't like Hirudinea much. The feeling was mutual.

The woman had finally told Hilarius to break up with Hirudinea after a particularly bad argument between his mother and girlfriend, and he did!

If she ended up pregnant for Hilarius, she would either be forced to abort or give away the baby, and then there wouldn't have been a point to any of it.

Pup was the next best choice. Although she couldn't imagine kissing him, with his food-lodged braces, she knew of his father's sense of responsibility, a military trait.

If she had Pup's baby, the boy himself might turn her away, but his father would not.

As she began to pack up her belongings to move over to Pup and begin her seduction, the doors of the classroom slammed open.

In came Sejanus Plinth. Hirudinea scoffed, he couldn't even be bothered to show up on time. But this lack of public etiquette was to be expected, after all, he wasn't like the rest of them.

"Sorry," he quietly apologized to the professor, not bothering to explain himself, as he knew a trip to the dean's office was in his future regardless.

He looked towards Coriolanus to find the seats surrounding his friend already full. He sighed and reluctantly moved towards the back of the class.

As he walked up the stairs, Hirudinea noticed his shoes; they were brand new, dark leather with silver accents. They must have cost a fortune.

The cogs in the girl's head began to turn.

He sat a few chairs down from her.

'Maybe...but no...wait, this might be something. No, this is perfect!'

She gathered her books and quietly moved down the aisle, settling down beside the curly-haired boy.

The young heir didn't notice her. He was too focused on whatever he was writing in his notes.

From what little she had gathered over the years, he was the perfect candidate: Insanely wealthy, influential, attractive and stupidly naive.

The best part was that he had an annoying sense of moral superiority and would never turn her child away. His parents were a piece of cake; Mrs. Plinth seemed nice enough, and Strabo, in desperation to be considered Capitol, wouldn't deny his grandchild, born from a member of the reputable Snow family.

Of course, there's the fact that Sejanus is District. He was below her. But it didn't matter, she reasoned; the districts owe her for the dark days, and this was just compensation. The Plinths would take on the burden of providing for her child, and she would get their money to save her family and do with as she likes.

Yes, it was perfect.

"Psst," she whispered. "Hey. Sejanus."

Sejanus finally glanced up, shocked when he realized who had called to him.

Hirudinea never made much of an effort to interact with him in recent years, only ever addressing him directly, although briefly, when she needed to speak with Corio and Sejanus was around.

He didn't really miss their childhood interactions either, which consisted of her leading the charge to push him around and call him district scum on the playground.

As they grew up, she had become cordial with him but would still snicker whenever someone made a comment about his upbringing.

He quickly returned his expression to the stoic face he wore when dealing with Capitol people like Hirudinea.

"What are you up to?" She asked with a smile, a playful lilt in her cadence.

Now that was weird to him.

"Taking notes" he replied neutrally

She nodded, looking around as she came up with something else to talk about.

She turned back to him,

“I forgot my notepad in my locker” she used her arm to cover her notepad which was on the table “Is it okay if I copy off yours after class?"

Was this some sort of trick? He thought.

She saw his hesitation and acted quickly "I'm doing really bad in this class, and I can't afford to fail the next quiz." She placed her soft hand over his. "Please."

It would be wrong of him to let her fail, wouldn't it? His soft brown eyes sparkled with compassion.

"Okay, I have a free period next. Meet me after class?"

Coriolanus seemed to be the only one to notice the strange interaction.

He had been surprised when Dinea had sat away from her irritating friends but now she was talking to Sejanus of all people.

She was definitely up to something and he would get to he bottom of it.

She met Sejanus in the library after class. There weren't many people around, and the librarian was busy somewhere far from them.

He stayed mostly silent, expanding on certain things he had written every now and then.

She needed to get the conversation started. But what could she talk about? A shared memory, maybe?

"Do you remember that field trip to the Capitol testing facility we went on when we were eleven?" she asked out of nowhere.

He was confused about the question but remembered the trip well. "The one where you dared Felix to sneak out one of the specimen; he was too scared so Clemensia went instead."

He laughed a bit, remembering how a little Clemmy was led out of a lab by her collar. She still hadn't lived it down.

"She got in so much trouble. A whole week's suspension," Hirudinea added with a giggle.

"What did you call Felix the next day again?" He asked

"I said he was so chicken, I could see the feathers growing out of his ass."

They both burst out laughing.

It was the most relaxed he had ever been around her.

It wasn't long before the librarian came over to shush them. They apologized and spoke with a quieter tone.

"You know, he made sure I wasn't invited to his birthday because of that. I hoped the party was a disaster. What did you think of it?"

"I, um, didn't get an invite either, remember?" Sejanus said with an awkward chuckle.

She did remember now. Hirudinea was the one to tell Felix not to invite the boy. In front of his face too. It didn’t do her any favors so she decided to change up the story a bit.

"Felix was such a jerk for doing that to you. I told him not to, but he never listens."

Sejanus vividly recalled her being in on it too but decided he remembered wrong. After all, she had been so nice today, why would she lie now?

The girl got somber all of a sudden, looking down shamefully.

"You know, I'm really sorry about how we all treated you in the past. You didn't deserve that." She hoped he didn't catch her false sincerity.

A small smile appeared on his face. "It's okay."

"Am I forgiven?" She playfully offered her hand to him.

"You're forgiven." He took her hand in a surprisingly firm handshake.

Hirudinea hung out with Sejanus often over the following weeks.

They established an easygoing friendship.

She made him swear to keep their friendship secret from Coriolanus, although he didn’t like it.

She didn't need her cousin sticking his nose in her business.

Sejanus came to trust the Snow girl to the point he spoke of his home in District 2 with her. She didn't say much about the topic during these conversations and he assumed it was because she wanted to listen intently. But the truth was she could hardly hold in her groan whenever he spoke of his old home.

‘Why is he reminiscing over THAT when he’s in the Capitol? How ungrateful can he be?’

She didn't abandon her objective of getting into his bed, pushing it as subtly as she could. A too-long hug here, a lingering hand on his thigh there. It always left him flustered.

He was fast developing a crush, and she knew it.

Soon enough, the moment of truth came. Sejanus had invited her to his place to hang out, and would make sure to be prepared.

It was almost time for Hirudinea to leave for Sejanus' house; she just needed to get some things in order.

Tigris was the only one at home and was holed up in her room. Hirudinea was thankful for this since her broken door lock provided no privacy for what she needed to next

She picked up a small foil packet from her lap. It was a condom. Without hesitation, she used one of Tigris smallest needles to poke holes through the protective barrier. She couldn't let Sejanus into her raw just yet; it had to look like an accident when she ended up pregnant.

When she felt like there were enough holes in the foil, she retrieved another and repeated the process.

Hirudinea sat on Sejanus bed.

He was in the kitchen getting her a glass of water, refusing to send an Avox. An act of rebellion against the status quo.

Hirudinea had to hold a fake smile through a brain-numbing conversation with Sejanus mother when she arrived. The woman was kind, but the lack of Capitol urgency made speaking with Mrs. Plinth feel like a chore. Thankfully, the woman had left to attend a party soon after, giving the two some privacy.

The girl dreaded having to hear Mrs. Plinth drone on about baby tips in the near future.

Hirudinea just wanted to get this over with and go home.

So she got up and stripped down to her lacy underwear. It had taken all her savings to afford them, but they would be worth it.

"Sej" She whispered the nickname seductively as he entered the room.

"Here you go..." He trailed off, closing the door behind him.

Sejanus paused. His face heated up as his eyes moved over her body once before snapping to her face.

"Come over here, Sej" she purred.

She brought her fingers to her mouth, twirling her tongue around them expertly. His jaw slacked.

Her fingers dropped to her panties next, slowly working the wetness into her entrance through the fabric.

His eyes were glued to the wet spot on her panties but his face was riddled with guilt.

"What about Hilarius? Aren't you together?" He asked

She freely rolled her eyes since he wasn't looking at her face. Only Sejanus would be worried about another man's relationship when a pretty girl was spread out before him.

"We broke up a while ago"

"I'm sorry"

She had no idea why he was apologizing.

"It doesn't matter. I want you"

His eyes snapped up. He was confused, but she gave him a soft smile, her eyes squinted ever so slightly, and his heart melted.

He placed the water down and moved over to Hirudinea.

Settling on the edge of the bed, He slowly brought his hand up to stroke her shin, moving up to her knee, then back down again.

"I want you too. I-I really like you, Hirudinea. I have for a while now”

'This is too easy'

All the lust gone from his eyes and replaced with something gentler. Hirudinea didn’t need that right now.

She took his hand from her cheek and slowly slid it to her waist

"It's okay, Sej, you can take what you want. I want you to"

That last statement was all he needed.

Sejanus surged forward over her and captured her lips in the most gentle kiss possible. It didn't last long, as she opened her mouth and initiated a deeper kiss. It was wet and hot. She wondered if the sloppiness of the kiss was due to a lack of experience or his need for her. She decided it was the latter when she felt his growing erection against her core.

Hirudinea lifted her hands to his curls, tugging at the strands, earning a deep groan.

He pushed his tongue into her mouth, licking at her tongue, her teeth, anything he could reach. The hairs on her arms stood up as she moaned softly at his need.

His lips moved down from her mouth to the curve of her neck, licking and sucking at her skin until he arrived at the cup of her bra.

He looked up, asking for permission to remove the article of clothing. She nodded, biting her lip.

He struggled for a second but once it was off, he sat back on his heels. Looking at the beautiful woman before him.

He was in absolute awe, and it was making her impatient.

Hirudinea raised her hands to her breasts, squeezing them harshly and moaning his name.

Almost immediately Sejanus reacted, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her onto his lap.

With his height and powerful build, she shouldn't have been surprised by his strength. She kind of liked the way his big arms held her so firmly...

He buried his face in her breasts, nuzzling into her and taking in her scent, before turning to take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue laved over the sensitive spot as he breathed heavily into her chest. Her other breast occupied by his hand which squeezed her gently.

"Oh, Sej" she breathed, leaning into his touch.

"Take off your clothes, baby" she said.

She didn't have to tell him twice. He laid her down, kissing her softly, before rising to pull off his clothes.

She bit her lip as each piece of clothing fell away from his body. His boxers were the last to go, and she gasped when she saw what was beneath them.

His rock hard member was long and wide as it stood at attention, curving slightly to the left. The head of his cock was an angry red and the veins around the shaft were strained with his need.

Underneath Sejanus’ shaft were his large balls, they sat heavily, ready to be emptied. His hair was trimmed neatly.

She knew he was big from the outline in his trousers when he was flaccid but she never imagined this.

She mentally prepared herself to take him, having never been with anyone so well endowed.

It didn't take Sejanus long to grasp the edges of her panties and pull them over her legs, adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

She wasn't expecting him to brush over her clit high his fingers. She gasped at the tingles it sent down her legs.

“I want to touch you, can I?” He asked with a politeness that didn’t belong in the bedroom.

"There's no need for that, Sej. I want you inside me" she said with a laugh.

"Please baby, let me make you feel good" he begged.

As much as she wanted to get to fucking, she supposed she could allow herself a treat.

'I might as well get off since I'm already here'

"Okay, baby. Go ahead"

Rubbing over her clit with his thumb, his middle finger teased her entrance.

"Mmm" she sighed. Pressing her head back against the bedding

After a few more swipes with his thumb, his middle finger began to work its way in. He pushed in as far as he could go, stopping when his knuckles met her mound.

Her back arched up from the bed as his finger brushed over that spot inside her.

Sejanus could help but groan at the way her walls gripped his finger. He imagined what she would feel like around his cock.

Her wetness coated his finger as he began pumping into her core and before long, he added a second finger, stretching her out. She cooed and rocked her hips against his hand.

She moved her hips in time with Sejanus’s movements. Spearing herself down on his fingers. A coil had begun to wind itself in her abdomen, begging to snap.

"Oh Sej, I need more"

He pumped harder, adding a third finger. Wet sounds filled the room.

That was it.

Hirudinea threw her head back, hands squeezing the sheets as she writhed against them, crying out her pleasure.

”Yes, Sej!”

The bliss was so intense her vision whited out temporarily.

As she came down, still letting out soft moans, she wondered why she had never come that hard when Hilarius had fingered her, or any of the other boys.

But she didn't have time to think about that, not when she needed Sejanus’s cum inside her.

"I need you in me, baby," she pleaded.

He didn’t need much convincing. He was aching and ready to burst.

Reaching under the pillow, she revealed one of the tampered-with condoms she hid there and with a naughty expression tore the foil open and slid it onto him.

He climbed over her as she spread her legs wider.

Holding himself up by his forearms and knees, he lined up his cock with her entrance.

“Are you sure” he asked, needing her explicit consent.

“Fuck me, Sejanus” was all she said.

He pressed against her entrance and took his time pushing in. He couldn’t get enough of the way her gummy walls bared down on his cock but didn’t want to hurt her.

The stretch was uncomfortable but she would have to manage. She she brought her legs up and used them to put slight pressure on his hips which spurred him to relent and slide home.

His cock was stuffed into her as far as it could go, making him groan uncontrollably. The feeling of her around him was better than anything he'd imagined.

"You feel amazing," he grunted out.

He didn't move for a second, enjoying the fit. But soon enough, he was gently thrusting.

Hirudinea wasn't satisfied his pace, "Harder, baby" she demanded.

He obeyed and began thrusting hard and fast. He tried to control himself, letting out grunts of passion, but they quickly turned into "oh"s and "ugh"s.

"Does my pussy feel good, Sej. Do you like the way I squeeze your huge cock" she asked with a sexy voice.

"Feels so good, baby. Ughhh"

His upper body fell a bit, letting half of his weight pin her to the bed as he shoved his cock deeper into her pussy, hitting her cervix. His forehead resting against his lovers.

Wet squelching sounds filled the room as his cock went in and out and in and out. Her hands ran over his bare back, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Although she felt some discomfort with the way he was pressing against her cervix, she let out moans at the stimulation to that sensitive spot inside her. No inch of her pussy was left untouched by his thick cock.

Her sweet sounds fueled his relentless thrusts, and she didn't mind. It was actually really hot.

His hands found her knees, pushing them against the bed to spread her wide open for him. This was hot. She could feel another orgasm building within her.

If only her grandma'am could see her now, legs wide open and spilling soft noises as a district boy ruts against her. The old woman would certainly have a heart attack.

Sejanus pulled away from her lips to look deep into her eyes. It felt as if he were staring at her soul.

"Your eyes are so pretty," he whispered. The softness of his voice didn't match his thrusts.

She was dumb-struck. This hadn't happened to her during sex before; it usually came before sex to lull her into a false sense of security. She needed whatever he was doing to stop.

Splaying her hands out on the back of his head, she guided him to look down at where they were joined.

'This will distract him'

It worked. Sejanus groaned loudly as he watched his cock push and pull from her core covered in her slick. He stayed like that for a minute or two, allowing her to enjoy the feeling of his cock scraping against her g-spot, but then the spell wore off of him, and he was looking into her eyes again.

"So beautiful"

He had caught her out of left field. She didn't know what to do, so she pulled him close and buried her face in his neck, breathing in the citrus-y scent of his shampoo.

He was getting there; she could tell by the way his body was stiffening and the way his movements were getting jerkier. She was close too, moans falling from her lips like a waterfall.

"I'm so close. Are you gonna cum, Sej?"

"I'm going to come so hard, baby," he groaned, body continuing to tighten.

"Then fucking cum," She said through gritted teeth as her second orgasm hit her. She cursed out loud, feeling the waves of ecstasy wash over her.

He moaned her name as his end hit him hard, spurred on by the tightening of her cunt. "Fuck, I'm cummin'," he paused, pushing flush against her before beginning to thrust faster and shallower, his rhythm completely lost.

His eyes nearly crossed at the pleasure. Rope after role of cum filled the condom, and Hirudinea smiled to herself, knowing it was leaking into her womb. He moaned loudly.

“OHHHhhhh…”

His arms gave out, and he fell fully on top of her, but she wasn't bothered by his weight. He once again nuzzled into her breasts as his breathing evened out.

"Mmm, You smell good," he murmured.

She gave him a few moments before gently pushing him off and rolling on top of him. Removing herself from his cock, she carefully took the condom off under the guise of helping through the post-coital haze, pecking the tip of his nose before standing up. She disposed of the rubber before beginning to dress.

"You don't have to leave yet; my Ma won't be back for a while,"

Hirudinea cringed at his use of District 2 vernacular.

She hoped their child would never address her in such a manner. She preferred a distinguished 'mother' or 'ma'am'

"I should get home. I don't want to worry anyone"

She was a little peeved when Sejanus insisted on walking her to the Corso.

He had escorted her home before, but tonight, his incessant need to smile like an idiot the entire time was pissing her off.

Walking side by side, the backs of their hands brushed occasionally, sending sparks up his arm. Eventually, Sejanus takes the initiative to grasp her hand in his own, entwining their fingers.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asked hopefully

"I would like that." She feigned bashfulness.

When they arrived the door of the Corso, she refused to let him take her any further, saying, "My grandma'am won't like to see me with a boy this late."

It convinced him to let Hirudinea off here, not wanting to get her in trouble. He did ask for one more kiss though, which she allowed. It was sweet and light.

"Goodnight, Dinea" he said as the door closed behind her.

The journey upstairs gave her time to think about what had just happened.

Her periods were infrequent, only coming every three months or so. So she would have to get pregnancy tested at the hospital. But how would she afford it?

It was only when she reached the penthouse that she realized he had called her by her nickname.

'What gives him the righ-'

The door burst open to reveal an upset Corio.

"Where were you!?" He yelled.

Hirudinea rolled her eyes and pushed past him.

She went straight to her room and laid back on the mattress, picking up a magazine to flip through.

Corio had decided not to let it go and ended up standing over her with his arms folded.

"If you must know, I was with someone" she finally said after a minute of him just staring.

"With who?"

"That little friend of yours, the one from District 2," she waved her hand as if trying to recall his name. As if she hadn’t been screaming it out an hour ago.

"Sejanus?"

"Sejanus! That's the one. We were studying at his house"

"He's not my friend, Dinea. I tolerate him, but you don't, and the last time I saw you study, we were still using crayons. So you should understand why I don’t believe that’s what were you really doing there?"

Dinea stood up at full height and jabbed her finger into his chest. "I don't need to explain myself to you, Corio. You're not my dad"

"I might as well be, since Tigris and I have been carrying your weight ever since we were kids, just because you're grandma'am's golden child. You've never achieved anything by yourself!” His frustration was evident in his voice.

"Is that what this is about? You're looking for a reason to get me in trouble with grandma'am. You're pitiful, Corio," she laughed and walked into the living room. "It's no wonder your mother died trying to replace you; you know, old Crassus Snow probably killed himself in 12 to get away from you too"

Coriolanus' face hardened as he began marching over to her.

She always dealt out the low-blow in an argument.

Tigris came out of her room at just the right moment, "What's going on, you two?"

"Go on, Corio. Tell her the great sin I committed," Hirudinea pressed. She knew Corio would look like he was overreacting if Tigris knew the fight was over Dinea hanging out with Sejanus, whom Corio himself hangs out with.

"Nothing," the young man huffed.

As the family dispersed, Hirudinea called out to the blonde boy,

"Don't worry about what I'm doing. Remember, snow lands on top" she assured.

Part two

How do you feel about Hirudinea and Sejanus? I'm really interested in your thoughts on Dinea and the things she’s doing!

Please like and reblog, if you feel like. Your feedback and interactions keeps me motivated XO

#sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth smut #tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas x you #coriolanus snow #tigris snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #sejanus plinth x oc #sejanus x oc #sejanus plinth imagine #sejanus smut #sejanus plinth x original characters #sejanus x original character #sejanus x you #hilarius heavensbee #hilarius heavensbee x reader #tigris x reader #tigris x oc #tigris snow x reader #Tigris snow x oc #Tigris x you #Tigris snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x oc #coriolanus snow x reader

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova.

SUMMARY: The 10th Annual Hunger Games begin, and things quickly dissolve into chaos. Bellova grows increasingly furious about Coriolanus’s dedication towards Lucy Gray Baird. When she realizes he has cheated just to keep her alive, she decides to ruin him once and for all.

Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, death, violence, cursing, overall dark stuff (it’s the Hunger Games franchise so that’s sorta a given)

A/n: I am using a combination of the movie and book version of the events that occur in this chapter. I sort of streamlined the events to make the chapter less boring. Also, I highly recommend listening to “…Ready For It?” and “Look What You Made Me Do” while reading this chapter.

Other than Sejanus throwing a chair at the screen and screaming that everyone in the room was a monster, Lamina killing Marcus in an act of of mercy, and Lucky’s stupid commentary, nothing much had happened yet. 

Bellova was disappointed that her tribute was dead. Not because she cared about her, but because it meant she was missing out on the mentor experience. The thrill of having a say in someone else’s survival seemed quite exciting. 

If she wasn’t so pissed at Coriolanus for his behavior towards Lucy Gray, she would’ve reconsidered his proposal to work together. 

When the day was coming to an end, the majority of Academy students started to leave for their homes. Only a handful remained, consisting mostly of the mentors.

Bellova stifled a yawn, leaning back in her chair. Things has gotten dull, with the tributes doing nothing but finding places to hide from each other. She hoped that Dr. Gaul had something exciting in store for them soon, or people would start switching to Billi Bumble’s horrible comedy channel.

She picked up her Academy satchel and stood up from her seat. She noticed that Coriolanus was still present and slumped over on his desk, his head resting on his hand. He looked so peaceful asleep, his long golden lashes fluttering slightly. The light from the ceiling made his light blonde curls glow ethereally.

He looked like an angel. 

Bellova suddenly felt a strong urge to wake him up. She had avoided him for the entire day out of spite, but was starting to miss interacting to him. It was routine, bantering and bickering every day. Not talking felt…weird. And lonely.

She sighed. On rare occasions, she wished she could go back in time and change the way they formed their relationship. Instead of it being based on competition and rivalry, it would be full of support and affection. 

Then, an unpleasant thought hit her. 

He had only stayed so late to ensure nothing happened to Lucy Gray while he was away.

Now utterly furious, she slung her bag over her shoulder and started towards the door. ‘He’s such a pathetic sap,’ she thought. ‘He’s acting like a fool, I really should stop associating myself with him.’ 

But she found herself glancing over her shoulder to look at him one last time. And she knew, deep down, that she’s always come back, no matter how much he pissed her off.

She’d never be able to stay away from him. 

Not for long, anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova passed out as soon as she climbed into bed, and didn’t wake until nine hours later. She hadn’t slept well in nearly a week, as she was still recovering from her injuries. This was the first time she was able to achieve an uninterrupted night of sleep since before the bombing.

When one of her maids woke her up, it was already 8:00. Usually Academy classes started promptly at 8:00, but because of the Games, the schedule had been loosened a bit. And Bellova, who didn’t feel like interacting with anyone, was in no rush to arrive on time.

After eating a breakfast of fruit and assorted pastries, she slowly pulled on her uniform. She has always hated the Academy uniforms, but with the right accessories and makeup, she had learned to make it presentable by her standards.

Bellova checked her makeup one last time in the mirror and then headed downstairs to meet her driver at the front of her estate. He opened the passenger’s side door for her as she slid into the seat. 

“How are you this morning, Miss Bellova?” he asked, starting the engine and taking off towards the main road.

“Fine,” she said, leaning against the window. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope that once the Games are over, you can rest up properly.”

She nodded. “That would be nice. As much as I like the Games, they’ve caused quite a lot of stress this year.” 

He laughed quietly. “Most certainly. Everyone was so worried about you when you were hospitalized, your father most of all. I haven’t ever seen him so upset in my twenty years of working for him.” 

Bellova sighed. She and her father, Julio Augustus Reginelle, had a nice relationship. But he was rarely home, for he worked almost ten hours a day and often didn’t come home until Bellova was asleep. She cherished the rare moments she had with him. He had taught her to be proud of her wit and her combative nature, even if it sometimes got her into trouble. 

“You are much more like your father than you realize, Miss Bellova,” her driver said. 

“How so?” she asked.

“You are both kind until someone disrespects you. You are incredibly intelligent just like him, and pursue your goals relentlessly.” He paused for a moment. “And, you seem to have the same disdain for certain other Capitol families.”

Bellova raised an eyebrow. “Which ones?”

“Well, he’s not fond of the Cardews, as you know. He thinks they hold too much power for how little work they actually do.”

Bellova laughed. “That’s true.”

“He has never gotten along with the Creed family. He finds them irritating and foolish.”

She smirked. “I’m not surprised. Festus can be insufferable. Who else?”

Her driver sighed. “He despised Crassus Snow.”

Bellova felt her stomach twist. “Really?”

He nodded. “I don’t know exactly why he hated him so passionately, but I’ve heard they were rivals during their Academy days.”

‘I suppose I really do take after him then,’ Bellova thought, remembering her and Coriolanus’s worst arguments. ‘Crassus’s son gets under my skin nearly every day.’

Her driver pulled onto Scholars Road and stopped in front of the Academy’s main building. He stepped out of the car to open the door for her, and she gave him a nod of thanks. 

“I’ll see you later, Miss Bellova,” he said, bowing slightly and getting back into the car to drive off. 

As Bellova walked to the auditorium where the mentors were undoubtedly already at work, she pondered what her driver had said about Crassus Snow and her father. She was eager to know more about their history, but didn’t want to pry too far. Her father had a temper just like her, and she didn’t want to be on the wrong end of it.

When Bellova reached the room and walked through the doors, she immediately noticed three things: one, that Coriolanus looked exhausted and distressed, two, that he has brought his cousin Tigris to watch the Games, and three, that Sejanus was missing. 

She grabbed a spare chair and sat next to Coriolanus. He didn’t greet her or even glance look at her.

“What’s wrong with you today?” she asked, looking at the large television screen in front of them. 

He scowled. “I’m not in the mood for your snide remarks, Bellova.”

“Clearly something happened. Either tell me or I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Coriolanus gave her a sharp glare, but sighed in defeat. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Satisfied, Bellova turned her attention back to the Games. According to Lucky Flickerman, one tribute, Bobbin, had died overnight. However, there was no footage shown of him perishing. 

Bellova found that awfully suspicious. There was such a lack of action in the arena that the gamemakers would have undoubtedly shown the death of a tribute. 

When Bobbin’s death was announced, she noticed Coriolanus tense ever-so slightly. The average person wouldn’t have noticed, but she had learned to read his body language as well as the back of her hand. Clearly, something about his death made him nervous.

She decided to cast it aside for the moment. She’d pry the information out of him later. 

“They aren’t showing us what happened to that little boy,” Lysistrata Vickers said. “He clearly was killed right there. There’s cameras everywhere. It doesn’t make sense.”

“They said they were old cameras, Lyssie,” Festus responded. “Probably just another one of Coral’s.”

“Festus, sit down,” Lucky Flickerman ordered. “Same seats.”

Festus scowled but did as he was told. He and Lucky clearly had some animosity, and it was quite amusing to witness their petty interactions. 

Suddenly, after a few moments, Lucy Gray appears on screen, looking horrified. Bellova had to bite her lip to refrain from grinning. It seemed that the songbird’s luck was finally running out. 

Jessup emerged a second later. He was clearly not well, he looked much worse than he did before the Games.

“What’d you do to me?” Jessup shrieked, backed Lucy Gray against a pile of rubble.

“Nothing!” she responded, her eyes wide with fear. 

“Lyssie, what is he doing?” Bellova heard Coriolanus asked frantically.

“Something’s wrong,” Lysistrata replied, bewildered. “He wouldn’t turn on her like this.”

“Jessup going after Lucy Gray,” Lucky commented. 

“Stop running!” Jessup demanded. “What did you…” He groaned mid-sentence. “What did you do to me?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Lucy Gray insisted.

“Both tributes from District 12. The same district folding in on itself.” 

“Wait, look. The foam,” Coriolanus said. 

“I think it’s rabies,” Lysistrata said, clearly disturbed. “That bite. From that train.” 

Coriolanus stared at the screen, looking helplessly at his tribute who was nearing her inevitable doom. Then, he turned back to Jessup’s mentor.

“Send him water.”

“Wait, what?” Lysistrata asked.

“You remember the posters in the war? Rabies. It makes you afraid of water. Send him a drone.”

“That’ll scare him,” she protested.

“Yes. Away from her,” he insisted.

Bellova stood up. “Coriolanus-“

“Bellova, be quiet,” he snapped, not even bothering to look at her. “Jessup is done. Lyssie, you’re the only one that can get it right to him.”

Lysistrata clearly didn’t want to, but with a few clicks on her computer, water was being sent to Jessup by a drone. 

“Thank you,” Coriolanus whispered.

Within minutes, Jessup was dead, and four lethal tributes were cornering Lucy Gray. 

“Oh, look at this,” Lucky Flickerman said. “The Pack doing what they do best. Packing it in. Lucy Gray is swarmed, cornered. Mizzen, propellering his net.”

It looked again as if she was done for, but then-

“Mr. Snow going for his communipad,” Lucky continued. Bellova saw him send nine - no, ten drones towards Lucy Gray. 

Bellova knew exactly what he was doing. He was using the drones to give her a chance to escape. 

The drones came flying into the arena, causing The Pack to scatter. A few of them got hit, causing them cry out in pain and tumble to the stone-covered floor. 

“These drones are not very good,” Lucky commented, as if it weren’t obvious. Some of the students who had caught onto Coriolanus’s plan started to jeer at him.

“Hey!” Vipsania Sickle said indignantly. “You can’t attack the tributes.”

“I’m just sending water,” Coriolanus said casually, as if he was completely innocent.

After gathering her bearings, Lucy Gray scrambled into a tunnel with Coral on her heels. She managed to pull the vent closed just in time, the metal door nearly crushing Coral’s fingers.

Bellova positioned herself a few inches away from Coriolanus. She was seething, but it didn’t show on her face. She simply looked indifferent, despite all of the violence that had just occurred in the Games. 

“Snow, do you that time before the Dark Days when you pulled on my pigtails, so I slammed your face against my school desk?”

“Yes,” Coriolanus said, furrowing his eyebrows. “What about it?”

Bellova smiled crookedly, the violent glint in her eyes making Coriolanus visibly uncomfortable. “I’m about to fucking do it again, and this time, you’ll have more than a bleeding nose.” 

He straightened his posture, smoothing out his Academy blazer. 

“I’d like to see you try.” 

Bellova’s hands twitched. She knew that decking him in front of the majority of the student board would get her in severe trouble, but it was very tempting.

Instead of punching him, she started to storm out of the auditorium. 

“There goes Miss Reginelle. Clearly, the violence on screen has finally gotten to her-“

“Shut the fuck up, Flickerman, before I snap your microphone in half!” Bellova hissed. She threw up open the doors, and made sure to slam them behind her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova sat in the hallway outside of the auditorium, leaning her head against the wall behind her. Her anger was threatening to spill over, and her father would be very disappointed in her if she murdered someone on Academy grounds.

She had vowed to make Coriolanus pay if he pulled any more strings for his little songbird. And he had by sending that fleet of drones after her attackers. But clearly, nobody batted an eye at that. He had not been punished, or even reprimanded.

The thought of Coriolanus thinking longingly about Lucy Gray was almost enough to drive her mad. 

Before she could do anything drastic, she heard the speakers inside the auditorium amplifying Dr. Gaul’s voice. Curious, she stood up and pressed her ear to the doors.

“Capitol citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our Games to announce a tragic loss, one that affects us all. Felix Ravinstill, son of our beloved president, has, this morning, succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.”

Bellova felt her heart drop. Felix wasn’t all that bad, when he wasn’t bragging about his life at least. She had even gone to the end-of-year Academy gala with him a couple of years ago. They had a wonderful time, and she was gifted a priceless gold necklace by him at the end of the night. She had worn it for a week straight afterwards, which delighted the young son of the president.

“Out there in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boy’s death as a triumph. I will not allow my Games to give our enemy such a victory. I swear to you, here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these Games.”

She gasped. She knew Dr. Gaul well enough to know she was completely serious. If she wanted someone gone, she’d stop at nothing until they dropped dead. 

Mere moments later, Coriolanus burst through the doors, nearly slamming right into Bellova. 

“What are you doing out here?�� she asked, scowling at him.

He sneered down at her, beginning to walk away. She followed him, despite knowing he really didn’t want her to. “As if I’d tell you.”

Bellova sighed. “I told you earlier, Coriolanus, if you don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out on my own-“

“Fine!” he huffed. “I’d do anything to shut you up at this point. You’re insufferable.”

“The feeling is mutual, Snow. Now spill it, what’s going on?”

Coriolanus, against his better judgement, told her everything. Well, almost everything. He told her about how he retrieved Sejanus from the arena, but omitted the part about killing Bobbin. He explained that he needed to see Dr. Gaul immediately, for the stitches in his back from the previous evening were coming loose. 

Bellova frowned. She briefly felt bad that he was in pain, but couldn’t bring herself to actually care. She was still angry at him. 

She also noticed he said was being very vague with his details. He was definitely hiding something.

“What’s that face for?” Coriolanus asked as they approached the Citadel, which housed Gaul’s laboratory. 

“What face?”

“That scowl. You’re clearly not pleased about something, so what is it?”

She smirked. “As if I’d tell you,” she said, mimicking his words from earlier. 

Coriolanus’s jaw clenched, which satisfied Bellova immensely. She loved seeing his patience waver, it was strangely addicting.

“Will you ever learn to keep your bratty mouth shut?” he asked, his voice raising a touch.

“Bratty?” Bellova scoffed. “I’d prefer it if you called me a bitch.”

Dr. Gaul’s lab was just a few corridors away at this point. Bellova knew that causing a scene here wouldn’t be wise, but she honestly did not care. She could easily talk her way out if it.

Coriolanus glowered at her, his blue eyes icier than ever. “Go back to the auditorium, Bellova. I know you love watching the Games, and you’re probably missing all of the action.”

She laughed. “So all of a sudden, you want me to be happy. Seriously, Snow, if you want to get rid of me, just say so.”

He smirked at her condescendingly. “Then I will. Get out of here, you have no place in Gaul’s lab anyway. It’s too much for your pathetically shallow brain to comprehend.” 

Bellova stared at him for a moment. It has been awhile since he’d said something quite that harsh. It was normal for him to question her intellect, but calling her dumb? That was low, even for him.

Coriolanus was obviously anticipating a slap to the face. He was not prepared, however, for Bellova to swipe her claw-like nails across his face like a wild animal.

Stunned, he watched Bellova walk away as the new gashes on his face began to sting. As she reached the end of the hall, she screamed “You’re such an asshole!” before disappearing from Coriolanus’s sight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova sat in the stands instead of with the mentors, watching as Dr. Gaul’s “rainbow of destruction” engulf the remaining tributes in the arena.

She had no idea that when Dr. Gaul said “rainbow”, she was referring to hundreds of colorful, deadly snakes. 

She watched, entranced, as the beautiful mutations smothered the tributes, picking them off one-by-one. She had never admired the “mad” scientist more. Her work was truly beautiful. 

Wovey, Reaper, Mizzen, and Coral were soon dead, lying lifelessly beneath the swarm of snakes. 

“Now, all colors lead to Gray,” Lucky Flickerman said. 

Coriolanus stood watching the screen, amazed at his own success. “She’s… She’s won. It’s over, she’s won.” He looked over to Dr. Gaul, who was standing to the side. “She’s won, let her out.”

The doctor smiled. “Afraid that’s not your call to make, Mr. Snow.”

Bellova bit back a laugh when Lucy Gray began to sing. At least she’d be able to get in once last performance before her vocal chords went slack.

“Dr. Gaul, she won!” Coriolanus repeated, desperation seeping into his voice. “It’s over, let her out.” 

“Why aren’t they attacking her?” someone asked.

“Must be the singing,” Coriolanus replied. “It’s calming them.”

He really was a terrible liar.

“She can’t sing forever,” Festus said. 

Bellova noticed some of the students around her begin to cry as they watched Lucy Gray sing shakily. ‘Pathetic,’ she thought.

“Dr. Gaul, please,” Coriolanus begged. “Get her out. Get her out!”

One by one, the Academy students began to chant “Get her out! Get her out!”, almost overpowering the sound of Lucy Gray’s singing. 

‘No,’ Bellova thought desperately. ‘Don’t. Just let her die.’

Then, Coriolanus said, “Who will watch the Games if there’s no victor?”

The chanting came to a halt.

Dr. Gaul looked around, seeing that she was vastly outnumbered. “Get her out,” she murmured just loud enough to be heard. 

“She’s won! Lucy Gray!” Lucky Flickerman cried over the roar of the student body. “Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the 10th Annual Hunger Games!”

Bellova’s face burned with fury, her patience finally snapping after days of wearing thin. 

She was no longer willing to overlook Coriolanus’s behavior. She had let him get away with too much. 

It was time that he faced some real consequences.

As she exited the hall quietly, she smiled, a cruel, twisted smile. She knew exactly how she would make him pay.  

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! This was another decently long chapter, and I believe it has been the most intense one yet. Stay tuned for Chapter Six!

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x oc #original character #thg prequel #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dr gaul #lucy gray baird

[ficzhub]

A Legacy: A Snowbaird fan fiction.

Chapter 1

Relief doesn't begin to describe what he felt when he realized he was in fact, not a ephebophile. Simply a man still in love with his lost girl. It wasn't easy to find her, the wilds are difficult to navigate even with the most advanced technology available. But persistence is key, he never gave the search a day's rest. The moment he came into enough power to delegate the necessary steps that would go into finding her, he did. My, is he glad he did. He found so much more than he could've imagined. He almost regretted having to eventually pluck her from her prairie. Here she was, perfect little wildflower. Dark curls braided out of her sable face, small sylvester flowers rained on in a crown forshadowing the metaphorical crown she'd soon wear as his darling girl in the capital where they belong.

Despite the constant frigid temperatures of the wilds beyond the desolation of 13, the sun still shone bright in the early spring. Excellent light but did little to warm anything. Still, watching the bright sun shining off her rich hair and pebbled, freckled skin sheened slightly in sweat from her labor brought him a calm he hadn't experienced anything even close to since he'd been in her presence. He could watch for hours as she went through her morning routine in the tiny cabin she shared. Getting water to boil for their mushroom tea, gathering honey to sweeten it. Wondering if she had to risk getting her nearly onyx eyes or dainty hands stung to obtain it. Eating a few bites of whatever game the traders exchanged with her. The bulk of it being fish, sometimes uncommon sea creatures like octopus or such but as good for sustenance as he could wish for them, explaining the surprising but delightful realization that Lucy Gray looks better fed here than she'd ever looked back in 12.

The changes of her body, though mostly welcome, did confound him briefly. The previous night she'd disrobed before sleeping and he saw the widened flare of her hips, the greater swell of her breasts and darkening of her nipples, the beastly diagonal claw-like marks on her flat but loose abdomen and pert backside. It all made sense when he caught sight of him, Silas Ochre. A boy of eleven, and already much taller and more muscular than he himself had been at that age. Vindicating his theory that if Coriolanus been properly fed, he'd be a much more physically imposing figure. The boy opened the door with his free hand, his left occupied holding basket containing a variety of plants the camera can't completely capture from this angle.

It was agony finding her and knowing it would take a few days before the undetectable cameras would be remotely set up to use. All his men had told him after finding her was that she was living in a cabin with a boy and a woman around her age. He'd figured she'd run into a mother with her son and came together with them but the mother in question had been her all along, and what a mother she's turned out to be. Silas Ochre is an incredibly intelligent, resourceful, capable and beautiful child. His hair is a golden shade of brown with curls that shine blindingly in the sun, clearly his hair had had to have been lighter ages ago, much blonder like himself. His skin is much like that of his mother, the color of strong black tea with a dash of milk and his eyes a dazzling shade of blue, like everything else, darker than that of his father. It's as if the deeper pigment from his mother protected him in a manor his father's lightness couldn't.

Silas Ochre hunts like he was born to it. No cruelty is ever caused with his knife, only quick, merciful deaths the creatures never see coming, so unlike the offspring Coriolanus has produced with Livia who'd relish in the gore. The boy named Calix in his home borderline disgusts him. His petulance grates at his already strained nerves, his entitlement irritating him to the point of near violence. Livia's family would withdraw any support they provide if he ever did anything to properly discipline his miscreant son. The boy is turning nine and still throws tantrums like when he toddled. If his father's legacy is left to him, he'll destroy everything he ached building in a matter of a few short years, squander it like a common fool. At first glance, there's resemblance between he and his son. But Coriolanus knows, Calix's palor is that of his mother's. His shade of blond, the blue of his eyes, the shapes of his nose and mouth, all Livia's.

The likeness between Silas Ochre and his father is more subtle but obvious if one knows what their looking for. The forms of his young son's still developing muscles so like his own, visible after his peacekeeper's duties and thankfully not lost since. The proportions of his body, long arms and legs good for reaching high and running far. His lips are shaped like that of his mother's sweet mouth, but fuller like his own. The slightly downward slant of his eyes is like his father's despite the darker shade of blue inside them, the flare of his nostrils at the end of his long nose completely unlike the button nose his Lucy Gray dawns. The broadness of his shoulders to the tapering of his waist, his hairline, the shape of his strong hands. All obvious indicators of who impregnated his mother.

Coriolanus blazes to see Lucy Gray as she was when she was pregnant with him. Face rounded, arms, legs and tight bottom cushioned for her and his son's comfort. Hips broadening more as each day passes, breasts growing to become fit to feed their child producing a milk he can only imagine was a luscious nectar. Finally, belly growing bloated with their perfect progeny. The need to keep her full of his babies is one of his main purpose for wanting to keep her close to him, here in the capital despite their idyllic lives in the forest. Silas Ochre was a good example of how flawless their children would be.

Livia is pregnant again with another boy and as much as he knows he's supposed to, he doesn't love the children he has with her. The feelings of obligation and basic familial commitment pale in comparison to the fatherly love and adoration he already feels for the nearly teenaged boy, who likely has no idea who he is and who Coriolanus has never even laid eyes on in the flesh. He knows more clearly than he knows he loved his mother and Tigris, that he'd do anything to protect this child. The ferocity, the potency of his emotions overwhelmed and displeased him. So much like when he fell in love with his Lucy Gray, he knows this boy, like his mother, could get anything they want out of him. He'd relinquish it with a smile on his face as long as it made them happy. That vulnerability frightens him more than any threat any of his enemies have ever made.

The rabbits, squirrels and other animals his more competent son obtains are used in their entirety. He guts and skins them so his still sensitive mother never needs to see such ugliness. He simply presents her with the pelts for her to use as needed and gives the innards to the woman they live with for her to do what she must with them. Lucy Gray treats the fresh skins and furs in their tiny fireplace, cleans them in the river nearby and hoards them until she has enough to make a full article of clothing with them. He's spent days watching them, learning their habits and observing their behaviors. The traders come by twice a week, she'll trade fresh garlic mustard or wild ginger for whatever she and her friend "Holly May" had asked for during their previous visit. Dairy products such as butter or cheeses, salt, even sea shells on occasion are taken in exchange of safe plants to consume and fresh land game and even baby soft fur overcoats to brave the harsh conditions farther north.

Holly May was clearly responsible for teaching his son how to sustain himself. Lucy Gray might've taught him how to tie intricate knots, gather fresh fruits and render oils from any plants they might find but Holly May taught him how to be an efficient killer. A skill not to be overlooked or undertrained in when in these circumstances. The traps they use are expansive and detailed, anything that wanders in will be done away with in a matter of seconds with almost no time to realize they're dying. She taught him how to gut and skin the animals quickly and cleanly, not letting the food become contaminated by any filth by letting the pelt cover everything until every organ is removed and placed in Holly May's hands to be cleaned in boiled, cooled water and coated in salt and spices to preserve for harsher times.

The traders this time traded a small spile for two dark brown coats. Coriolanus couldn't understand why Lucy Gray would make what seems like such a poor exchange, she handed the tool to Holly May and she hammered it into a tree. The cold wood didn't let her penetrate without a fight, bouncing off the metal a few times before finally piercing through to the tenderer wood inside. She instructed Silas Ochre to fetch something and he returned promptly with a bucket and some sort of covering. She placed it beneath the tree and simply left it there. It wasn't until a few hours later he realized it's a maple tree and Lucy Gray was clearly craving some sweetness honey can't provide, given the persistent medicinal taste that lingers after you eat it.

Coriolanus found himself envying their simple lives. The grueling work of finding their food and their warmth daily, knowing the next winter might be harsher than the last and not knowing if the previous harvest will be enough to hold them until it's over. But never having to worry about large scale betrayals, or political intrigue. Never concerning yourself with the competition because there hardly is any. Your competition around the cabin are other animals not nearly as strategic as you are and always good for thicker furs or emergency meat. On the rare occasion that a passerby might make things more difficult for you, you can always dispose of them fairly simply.

He ponders if his son, just beginning pubescence, would be capable of that.

********

The observation period lasts weeks. Coriolanus finishes work and returns home to watch the recordings that have been gathered, sometimes not even bothering to eat or wash up before sitting to watch his distant family go about their business. He's ambivalent about his realization that Lucy Gray was better off without him than he would've guessed. On the one hand, had she not been better off her and their son would've died likely before he was even born and then where would he be? Just a bitter man of nearly thirty living a life with nothing bringing him any genuine happiness the way just watching his amazing son and still gorgeous songbird does. A cousin who raised him but now nearly ignores him, a wife he can't stand who's given him sons that were meant to be a continuation of the Snow line and legacy but one only inspires irritation and resentment in him and the other is yet to be born but he doesn't hold out much hope for. He knows he'll feel little affection for him, too. He'll be too like his insipid mother, and have too much of Coriolanus' most distasteful traits, like Calix.

On the other, he relished in knowing his Lucy Gray needed him. In his most self indulgent and self-aggrandizing fantasies, she always needed him. Either needed him to save her from some kind of evil, a touchy ex-lover, a murderous and petty mean girl with a senseless vendetta against her, an incompetent man with too much power like Mayor Lipp, which he in fact made sure to scrap from office as soon as he had the authority to and place someone more fitting in his place. Someone he knew wouldn’t give The Covey any trouble.

Other fantasies have more masturbatory wishes. She needs him because he’s fed her, needs him because he’s given her water to drink when she was deathly thirsty. She needs him because she’s horribly sore and he can do away with her aches and pains. Because she needs him to satiate her desire for closeness and pleasure when in reality it’s him that needs satiating. He that feels a desperate longing to touch her again because nothing and no one else feels as good.

Every day he gets to watch as she fetches water from the river that runs near her shoddy, unprotected home, brings it back to boil clean on her fireplace in a large metal pot. She collects the water in a separate container and lets any debris settle at the bottom, carefully brings it outside and waits for it to cool. She takes out a soap either she traded for or made on her own and undresses. He feasts his eyes on her, angry that any of his men might’ve seen this footage before he did. Notices her dark nipples puckering in the cold, thankfully there’s not much wind. He’d hate for her to get sick. He laments the camera quality isn’t fine enough to zoom in on her, to see her tender flesh develop goosebumps. She slowly pours the purified, hot water over herself and starts scrubbing her skin with the soap and an old, filthy looking rag.

He wonders what the soap smells like, if it’ll interfere with the aroma he remembers her having. The wild rose and fresh, ripe peach that no amount of synthesis has been able to replicate to his liking. Either it smells too manufactured or the rose scent is too clean, or the peach fragrance is too saccharine, or they don’t quite match the slightly musky trail she always had. According to the perfumers, it has a great deal to do with the pheromones one produces and picks up in another’s. Biology dictates that unless you’re wearing a strong perfume or cologne, the way you smell is subjective to whomever may be smelling you. Sometimes it permeates through even the strongest of artificial fragrances. He knows there’s no way Lucy Gray ever made enough money through her performances to buy a perfume of any kind, despite her immense talent. Much less a strong, manufactured fragrance that even in The Capital, people struggle to afford. No, of course not. Her hygiene perhaps, some rustic soap much like the one she uses now, purchased at The Hob is what she used, and a rag with any water she could find was used to keep herself clean. The scent Coriolanus remembers so fondly is all their own, produced by her and to be inhaled by him.

He ponders what he might’ve smelled like to her, if she enjoyed his scent even half as much as he delighted in hers. If his resulted in the same warm sensation in her groin that grew in his whenever he inhaled by her neck, slick with the day’s sweat.

#snowbaird #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #lucy gray my beloved #abosas #a ballad of songbirds and snakes #coryo x lucy gray #coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird #coryo snow #coryo x lucy gray baird #lucy gray #lucy gray x coriolanus #lucy gray x coryo #snowbaird au #original characters #yandere coriolanus snow #stalker Coriolanus snow

[cdragons]

Ok, I very well could be looking too much into this, but does anyone else think it was weird how the Covey were targeted by Peacekeepers? Granted, it’s been a while since I read the original HG triology, and despite watching the film, I haven’t read the TBOSAS novel. I know a big part of the reason why Lucy Gray’s family was forced to settle into District 12 was because traveling between districts was forbidden due to the war that was going on. But I can’t help but think of something else was part of it.

I was talking about this with one of my friends, @ethereal-athalia , and I mentioned how I made the connection that the Covey in District 12 was likely part of a much larger community that was forced to split amongst themselves. The musicians would travel together, maybe there was a group of weavers and healers that formed their own “Covey.” I wonder if it was Suzanne Collin’s intention to use the Covey Genocide as an allegory of the persecution experienced by the Roma and Sinti?

When I thought of that, I then wondered if it were possible that the Capitol had their own way of “taking care” of these different branches of Covey. Because the covey weren’t really considered to be “district” by either the people in said district or by the covey themselves, and since they were considered outsiders, it would be assumed that no one would really care if they went missing.

Bear with me, because this is where it gets a little tricky to really express my thought process in this.

We all know that the Capitol isn’t above human trafficking, so would it possible that MAYBE some very few and rare members of the Covey might have been brought into the Capitol? Would it be possible that the districts those different branches of covey settled in were sold to the Capitol for whatever reason?

What if it were possible that one or two of these members caught the interest of Dr. Gaul? Maybe they were intended to be sold, but they tricked the peacekeepers into killing themselves and/or they poisoned them? Or what if one was sold because they looked similar to a Capitol child, and so they were brought in as a replacement? What if these individuals had everything that marked their heritage taken from them: their friends, their families, their dialects, the stories they grew up on, their names? Maybe they lived in misery? Maybe they ended up rising to the some of the highest social ladders at the cost of their “colors”? Or maybe they even ended up escaping to district 13????

What if these individuals who were forced to integrate into the Capitol, and had given up any hope of their history being brought back to them? All until they saw Lucy Gray Baird sing at the reaping, and then they saw her singing with the snakes? What if Snow was able to return to the Capitol because this mysterious stranger decided to sponsor him on the condition that Lucy Gray must also come to the Capitol?

Everyone thinks that if Lucy Gray stayed in the Capitol with Snow at the end of the novel, she would just be a sad trophy wife. But what if meeting this person was able to give her hope to continue not being caged? What if these two forces meet, and potentially change the course of Panem forever???

This is a very rudimentary idea, and I might not even end up writing it out, but I thought it was interesting and just wanted to share it on this platform. Also if anyone thinks that it’s a plot worth exploring, they are more than welcome to use it!

Edit: Anyone would like to notified or tagged if I make this work, please comment so I know how to tag you!

#snowbaird #thg series #thg #thg au #tbosas #tbosas au #the hunger games #the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x lucy gray #lucy gray x coriolanus #original character #long rant #original covey characters #my thoughts are all over the place with this one y’all #I should probably be studying for upcoming exams #but this seemed more important #tbosas fanfiction #fanfiction

[ofhouseusher]

Against The Odds ↣ The Hunger Games fanfiction

She'd lost everybody she'd ever cared about. Katniss was the only family she had left. If Katniss died, she would follow. Two broken souls scarred with the wounds from their demons, playing a dangerous game of trust and love.

There is just one catch. If she embarks on this treacherous journey would she be able to handle the unlocked truths that could shatter the fragile balance of her world.

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1

#hunger games #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #fanfiction #thg fanfiction #the hunger games rp #original female character #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #finnick odair #johanna mason #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket #coriolanus snow #president snow #president coin #Alma coin #district 13 #district 12 #katniss x reader #the hunger games imagine #thg headcanons #the capitol #mockingjay #catching fire

[al-cin]

Some chains don’t break

Coriolanus snow x reader (Lyra)

The haunting echoes of explosions reverberated through the air as Lyra stumbled through the chaos of the Hunger Games arena. The once pristine landscape was now marred by destruction, a testament to the rebellion that raged against the Capitol's tyranny.

In the midst of the mayhem, Lyra spotted Coriolanus Snow, disoriented and vulnerable. Instinct kicked in, and without a second thought, she pulled him to safety, shielding him from the onslaught. As the smoke cleared, the realization of her choice settled like a heavy burden on Lyra's shoulders.

Coriolanus, his usually composed demeanor shattered, looked at Lyra with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "You saved me," he uttered, the words carrying a weight that transcended the immediate danger.

Lyra nodded, her eyes reflecting a conflict that raged within. The rebellion had taken root, and her actions had aligned her fate with the very person she once saw as an oppressor. The Capitol's chains, though physically absent, seemed to tighten around her, binding her to a new set of expectations.

As they sought refuge in the remnants of the arena, Lyra couldn't escape the realization that saving Coriolanus had given him a new level of control over her life. The rebellion had thrust her into a role she hadn't anticipated—a reluctant savior, bound to a man who symbolized the very oppression she had despised.

Days turned into nights, and the struggle within Lyra intensified. The Capitol, now a target of the rebellion's wrath, faced the consequences of its own cruelty. Coriolanus, once the architect of the Games, found himself on the other side of the power dynamic.

Lyra's internal conflict festered, manifesting in sleepless nights and distant gazes. She found solace in the shadows, wrestling with the weight of her choices. The rebellion had given her a taste of freedom, only to replace one set of chains with another.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Lyra sought refuge on the outskirts of the rebel camp. The air was heavy with the scent of burning embers, a stark reminder of the price of defiance. Coriolanus approached her, his presence a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken turmoil.

"You saved me," he repeated, his eyes searching hers for answers.

Lyra's gaze wavered, torn between the gratitude she felt for the rebellion's cause and the realization that her actions had tethered her to Coriolanus in ways she couldn't escape. "I didn't save you for you," she admitted, her voice laced with frustration. "I did it for them—for everyone suffering under the Capitol's rule."

Coriolanus studied her, a hint of understanding in his eyes. "Yet, here we are, bound by circumstance."

The words hung in the air, an acknowledgment of the tangled web fate had woven for them. Lyra, burdened by the consequences of her choices, couldn't shake off the yearning for a freedom that felt increasingly elusive.

In the quiet of the night, Lyra grappled with her conflicting emotions. The rebellion, with its promise of liberation, had become a double-edged sword. The shackles of the Capitol had been replaced by the weight of newfound responsibilities, and the realization that she longed for the freedom of anonymity gnawed at her soul.

Lyra navigated the rebel camp, her steps heavy with the weight of internal conflict. The remnants of the Hunger Games arena had become a twisted playground of memories and choices she couldn't undo. Coriolanus, ever the enigma, followed her with a silent understanding, a companion in a journey neither had anticipated.

As the rebellion's momentum intensified, Lyra found herself thrust into a role that demanded more than physical resilience. She became a symbol, a face of the uprising against the Capitol. The very rebellion that sought to dismantle the oppressive system inadvertently cast her as a reluctant hero, a position she struggled to reconcile with her own desires.

The rebel leaders, recognizing the propaganda value in her association with Coriolanus, encouraged their alliance. Lyra, however, felt the invisible chains tightening. She longed for the anonymity of the shadows, the ability to fade into obscurity without shouldering the burden of a nation's expectations.

One night, beneath a sky stained with the remnants of the rebellion's fires, Lyra confronted Coriolanus in a secluded corner of the camp. The air crackled with tension as they stood on the precipice of a conversation long overdue.

"I didn't ask for this," Lyra confessed, her voice a whisper that carried the weight of unspoken truths. "I didn't ask to become a symbol. I just wanted the Games to end."

Coriolanus, his gaze fixed on the distant flames, nodded solemnly. "We are both prisoners of circumstance," he admitted. "The rebellion sought to break free from the chains of the Capitol, but in doing so, it forged new bonds."

Lyra's frustration spilled over. "I wish I had run—faced the peacekeepers, taken my chances. At least then, I would have been free to choose my own path."

Coriolanus studied her with a gaze that betrayed a depth of understanding. "Freedom is a fickle thing," he mused. "Sometimes, the very choices that grant it also bind us in ways we never anticipated."

The conversation lingered in the air, a testament to the complexities of their shared reality. The rebellion, with its noble ideals, had inadvertently become a force that dictated Lyra's destiny. In the struggle for freedom, she found herself ensnared in a web of expectations and responsibilities.

As the rebellion prepared for its final assault on the Capitol, Lyra grappled with a decision that would shape the course of her future. The conflict within her intensified, a storm of emotions that mirrored the chaos unfolding in Panem.

The final showdown with the Capitol approached, and with it, the moment of reckoning for Lyra. Would she embrace the role thrust upon her, a symbol of defiance against oppression, or would she carve a path of her own, even if it meant facing the consequences of defying both the Capitol and the rebellion?

The night before the decisive battle, as the rebel camp buzzed with anticipation, Lyra stood at the edge of the encampment. Coriolanus approached her, the silence between them pregnant with unspoken truths.

"The choices we make define us," he said, his voice carrying the weight of shared burdens. "But remember, even in the face of destiny, there's always room for agency."

Lyra met his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the journey they had undertaken together. The rebellion had shattered the chains of the Hunger Games, but the question remained: could she forge a path of her own, or was she destined to be a pawn in a game larger than herself?

As the first light of dawn painted the horizon, Lyra faced an uncertain future.

#coriolanus snow x reader #hurt/comfort #x reader #original character #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Type of Boyfriend

People often wonder what type of boyfriend Coriolanus Snow would be like.

He’s a coat of many colors, a jack of all trades, a fucking wild card if you will, so a definite answer can truly never be given.

However.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who insists on the stereotypical gender roles, his girlfriend must look presentable at all times—to help his image—and he is to be the sole provider of their household.

Coriolanus does however hold his girlfriend’s purse whenever he takes her shopping, the six-foot-two man proudly wearing her outrageously expensive handbag on his broad shoulder while he follows her around the store.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man to roll his eyes at any signs of weakness. He doesn’t tolerate things like that, childish notions that he left behind years ago when the war ended.

Coriolanus does make the exception for his girlfriend though. Especially when she falls and hits the pavement hard, scraping her soft knees. He’s thorough in cleaning them, wrapping them in bandages and then placing kisses on the bandages cuts for good measures.

A woman’s body is something he knows much about but he always seems to be lacking when it comes to the somewhat taboo topic of his girlfriend’s menstrual cycle. Quite the painful topic where she’s concerned. He does everything to help make her feel better. Heating pads, chocolates, kisses, whatever she wants. He truly does hate to see her in pain to the point where he begins to grow a certain disdain to her uterus for inflicting such pain on his precious girl.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to claim he despises being forced to indulge in cute little dates. Don’t ever try to get him to do a simple face mask, even though he’ll complain when he feels that the amount she’s applied isn’t “an even coat.” And heaven forbid he be coaxed into wearing a matching set of pajamas while he watches her construct a pillow fort in their living room, mostly because he’ll just have to take over since the structural integrity is clearly at risk with these throw pillows.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to absolutely despise his girlfriend being in the company of other men. He might make the exception for her father but that’s about it. He can’t help it, can’t trust these other men and their intentions with his precious rose. She is the air he breathes and for that to be taken away from him is something that terrifies him.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who looks forward to falling asleep but only because it means his girlfriend is safely tucked away in his strong arms. He loves to watch her sleep, listen to her soft breathing and watch her nose twitch every once in a while. She’s managed to touch a deep rooted kindness in him that he thought no longer excited until he met her. To have her seek him out for comfort and safety is a gift within itself and one he could never take for granted.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to be surprisingly good at braiding hair. It’s no secret that braided hair is all the rage in Panem and he’ll be damned if his girlfriend is left out of the rising trend. He can do a mean fishtail and don’t even ask if he can dutch braid because he sure fucking can.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to be extremely petty when it comes to the simplest things like putting the dishes away or making the bed. He can’t help but keep a mental spreadsheet in his mind of what has been done by who. Even if it lands him cleaning out the litter box.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to claim that he can’t stand his girlfriend’s cat but rushes both of them to the vet when her cat gets sick. He’ll be right with the love of his life while they wait in that oh-so crowded waiting room with the parrot who keeps saying the most creative curse words he’s ever heard. He’s most definitely going to pester the veterinarian with a thousand questions concerning the cat’s health even though it turns out the spoiled thing ate a sock. And his girlfriend won’t get a chance to pay for the vet bill, because Coriolanus insists on paying for everything.

And when it’s later that evening and all is well and his girlfriend has drifted off the sleep he’ll confess to the feline that he was just a tad bit worried about her health. But he’ll deny such claims should they be brought up.

But Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who has a certain dark side that he hides away. So heaven help his girlfriend when she finally discovers it and realizes that it’s far too late to escape the jaws of this venomous snake.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

#coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #hunger games #slaymitchabernathy #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus smut #ao3 fanfic #wattpad #soarynn snow #coriolanus x soarynn #coryo snow #staywithmealways #coriolanus x original character #coriolanus x oc #coriolanus drabble #coriolanus oneshot #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fic #oneshot

[mrpldiddles]

secret’s out | t.blyth

a/n: the first fic featuring my oc remi is here! i'll hopefully be able to post more about her and tom soon and i hope y'all love them as much as i do :)

if you want to know more about remi here's an intro to her :)

remi.alaric posted:

remi.alaric life lately🥰

comments:

user4 the second picture HELLO??!!?!?

-> remi.alaric hi!😁

-> user4 GIRL😭😭

rachelzegler the second picture i'm going INSANE

-> remi.alaric soft launch oops🤭

-> user5 MISS GIRL WDYM OOPS IM SPIRALLING

-> user9 i don't think remi knows that she just changed the trajectory of so many peoples lives

joshandresrivera does this mean what i think it means

-> remi.alaric yes sir!

-> user3 JOSH WHAT DOES IT MEAN

-> tomblyth oh no one's gonna be ready for this

-> user7 HUH

-> user1 WHAT DO THEY ALL KNOW

-> user6 watch it be a music announcement or smtg and not a boo reveal

-> user8 DONT GIVE HER IDEAS

user10 i 10000% believe it's tom

-> user4 OMG WAIT IT TOTALLY COULD BE

-> user7 THEYRE ALWAYS TOGETHER ITS TOTALLY HIM

tomblyth posted:

tomblyth a photo dump as the kids would say

comments

remi.alaric the caption please😭😭

-> tomblyth what about it🤔

-> rachelzegler not the emoji😭

user3 IS THAT NOT REMIS DOG???!!!?!?!?!??!

-> user2 WAIT YOURE ONTO SMTG

-> user4 NO WAY

-> user9 IT HAS TO BE

-> user7 @rachelzegler PLS CONFIRM

user8 IM GOING INSANE THATS TOTALLY REMIS DOG ARE THEY TOGETHER

-> user1 ID BET MONEY THAT THEY ARE

-> user2 PLS THATS TOTALLY HER IN THE THIRD SLIDE

user2 WE ARE NOT FOCUSED ENOUGH ON THE THIRD SLIDE THAT IS TOTALLY REMI

-> user5 AND WHATS THE COINCIDENCE THAT THEY BOTH JUST POSTED SOFT LAUNCHES

-> user8 AFSVSDJKNSJV PLEASE I NEED SOMEONE TO CONFIRM IT

user12 the third slide's actually me guys!!

-> user5 girl please aid in the cause of finding out who it is😭😭

user5 i fully believe in the tom and remi conspiracy theories!!

-> stevie_alaric definitely!!

-> user4 remi's sister literally just confirmed tom x remi OH MY GOD???!?!?!?!?!!!

remi.alaric and tomblyth posted:

remi.alaric secret's out i guess🤭

comments:

user6 I KNEW IT WAS REMIS DOG

-> tomblyth remi’s AND my dog

-> user13 OMG THEY HAVE A CHILD TOGETHER

-> user7 😭IM😭SO😭HAPPY😭FOR😭THEM😭

rachelzegler FINALLY IVE BEEN KEEPING THIS FOR SO LONG😩

-> remi.alaric best secret keeper fr🥰love and appreciate you so much girly MWAH😘🫶

-> joshandresrivera ahem

-> remi.alaric love and appreciate you too best secret keeper #2!!!

-> stevie_alaric ummmm

-> remi.alaric you too ig even tho you spilled the beans

-> remi.alaric JK LOVE YOUUU😘😘😘

rachelzegler the amount of double date pictures i've been storing this whole time...

-> user4 RACHEL PLEASE RELEASE THEM

-> user2 you know you want to release the double date pictures rachel...😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

-> remi.alaric the karaoke night pictures👀👀

-> joshandresrivera PLEASE NO

tomblyth i wouldn't want to keep a secret with anyone else💙

-> remi.alaric love you more than the world will ever know🩵

-> remi.alaric imagine we broke up right after posting this

-> rachelzegler REM PLEASE😭😭

-> tomblyth you're so twisted i love you so much

-> user8 THEYRE SO CUTE I LOVE THEM

-> user3 THEYRE SAYING I LOVE YOU ALREADY HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN TOGETHER😀😀

-> remi.alaric @tomblyth 3 years???

-> tomblyth i thought 4...

-> remi.alaric well shit may as well get married then!

-> user7 WHAT IS HAPPENING

-> stevie_alaric I CALL MAID OF HONOUR

-> rachelzegler I CALL BEST MAN

-> joshandresrivera I CALL FLOWER GIRL

#tom blyth #coriolanus snow #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fic #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth ig edit #tom blyth x oc #oc #original character #rachel zegler #josh andres rivera #thg #the hunger games #ig edit #mrpldiddles #mrpldiddles fic

[sleekervae]

New York Romantic .6

Masterlist

a/n: Hi everyone, thanks again for your patience! This chapter is a little shorter and there's not as much dialogue as there is a lot of dancing. I had a lot of fun researching some of the dances for the Nutcracker ballet, and while I hoped to have this chapter up by Christmas, March 1st isn't so bad either 😅

pairing: Tom Blyth x ballerina!oc

summary: tom attends noelle's recital

word count: 2,759

taglist: @watercolorskyy @carolanns-world @alana4610

Tom wasn't so sure how he found himself sitting across from Noelle's family at a local breakfast eatery, somewhere along his morning Franca had insisted that he come along. And it went without saying that he was grateful for the meal, it had been a while since Tom had the privilege of eating out while on his student budget.

Maurice was an investment banker who worked for a smaller banking branch in Maine, tall with a shiny bald head, a seasoned gentleman of respectable stature with deep smile lines and wise eyes. Meanwhile Franca was an architect, a lavish yet simply dressed woman with long auburn hair, and freckles were scattered across her cheeks and nose. Chiara was a couple years younger then Noelle, her curly hair was much more reminiscent of her mother's but it was easy to draw facial comparisons between the cousins. She was a senior at some fancy private school, and whatever was on her phone proved to be much more interesting then conversation with the table crowd.

"So, Tom," Maurice looked to him as he stirred his tea, "Have you always wanted to get into show business?" he asked.

"Not at first," Tom replied, "I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do at first, but my mum signed me up for some drama classes and my father worked in the film industry, so it all just kind of fell into place,"

"And where'd you grow up in England?" Franca asked, resting her chin on her locked fingers.

"York,"

"Oh, lovely! It's just North of Leeds, yes?"

"That's right,"

"Maurice and I were debating where to go for our fifteenth wedding anniversary, and I've heard such lovely things about that town," she said, "Alas, we settled on Marseilles and toured a bit through Southern France,"

"That sounds beautiful!" Tom awed, glancing Noelle's way, "Did you go, too?"

Noelle shook her head, "Nope, Chiara and I were manning the house for two weeks," she replied.

"It was so peaceful," Chiara added, her gaze still fixed on her phone. Maurice cleared his throat abruptly, staring down his daughter as she swiftly got the hint and put her phone away.

"Anyway," he then grumbled, "What do you want to do when you graduate, Tom? Theatre? Movies?"

"Movies, ideally. But I'd be open to wherever the wind blows me," he replied.

"I went to see his improv show last week," Noelle said, "He was really good!"

Tom shrugged, praying his cheeks wouldn't tinge, "I -- I mean I was okay..."

Noelle cocked her head down, giving him a playful glare, "Oh, c'mon. You were great. And I say so, so it must be true," she grinned. He couldn't help it then, Tom averted his gaze to his plate but nonetheless he was blushing.

Chiara scoffed under her breath, "You two are just adorable," she muttered sarcastically.

Tom watched Noelle roll her eyes, never the less her fingers fidgeted as she went to pick up her coffee cup. A sip of something to quell his dry throat sounded like a good idea, a pleasant cooling off before Tom could find himself swept up in the memory of that kiss yet again.

"Anyway," Franca cut in, "How's Bianca doing, Noelle?"

"Good!" Noelle nodded quickly, thankful the spotlight was off her for the moment, "She made it Maine just before the snow storm hit,"

"Is she gonna be back in time for the showcase?" Chiara asked.

"She's supposed to be back the morning of,"

Tom raised a brow, "Why didn't she leave after the showcase?" he asked.

Noelle shrugged listlessly, "She likes Christmas in Manhattan better,"

"-- Is Derek gonna come down?" Chiara asked, her interest seemingly peaking more than it had all morning. Derek was Bianca's older brother, as Noelle had told previously.

"I guess we'll find out," Noelle replied.

Maurice's gaze narrowed, "And if he were, what would you have in common with a twenty-six-year-old college drop out, anyway?" he asked gruffly.

Franca swiftly elbowed her husband, an urgent smile plastered to her lips as she stared him down pointedly, "Perhaps we can find something more relevant to talk about?" she suggested, turning back to Tom, "Have you been to any of the ballet recitals, Tom?"

Tom shook his head, "I haven't yet. This will be my first," he replied.

"We're so excited to see it. This will be Noelle's first big part in a production," she beamed.

Maurice nodded along, cutting into his egg-white omelette, "She's our little Sugar Plum Fairy!" he awed. None of them paid attention to Chiara's eye-roll.

Noelle grimaced, a bashful grin befalling her as Tom turned to her, "You didn't tell me that," he said.

She shrugged back sheepishly, "... Oh... didn't I?" she chuckled.

"No, you did not," he drawled back, "That's fantastic!"

"Well -- I still have a lot of practice to do before Friday, so we'll see," Noelle didn't like drawing too much attention to herself in that rhetoric. She was grateful for the opportunity, though nevertheless she knew the recital wasn't all about her.

"Are you gonna do her makeup, Chiara?" Franca asked her daughter.

Chiara shrugged back, glancing at her cousin, "Do you want me to do your makeup?"

"Of course I do!" Noelle nodded, "I'm no where near as good as you,"

"Alright, sure then," Chiara barely got the words out as she turned to her phone once again.

Maurice took the conversation again, folding his hands before his plate and twitching his nose, "Tom, why don't you join us on Wednesday? We reserved a box for four,"

"It'll be a great view of the stage," Franca added.

Tom was flattered, though he didn't want to impose, "Oh, I don't -- I don't want to intrude on you guys like that,"

Franca shook her head, "Please, it's not intruding if we invite you -- that's what my mother always used to say, anyhow," she chuckled.

"Have you bought your ticket?" Maurice asked.

"Yes," Tom replied.

"Well then, you're already set up," he told him, "I insist, and we can head out for dinner after,"

Tom turned to Noelle, her smile was bordering on confident, but she hoped that he wouldn't feel too pressured. After all, she knew her family could be a bit much and they had all only just met. But he didn't see the harm; her family was so nice and the view of the stage was promised to be excellent. And if it meant having a better view of Noelle, who was he to pass that up?

"Alright, if you're sure I'll be happy join you," he decided.

Friday was the twenty-third, and despite Christmas Day being just around the corner, the hustle and bustle of New York never stopped. Neither did the cold. It hadn't snowed again but the nefarious east coast arctic fronts swept through the streets; icicles were formed off of passing trucks and the sidewalks and roads were awash in various colours of crushed melting salts. And the cold certainly didn't deter eager shoppers to tick off last minute Christmas gifts from their lists.

Tom wasn't sure what he was supposed to wear to a ballet recital, he didn't want to overdress but he certainly didn't want to look sloppy either. His mum had shipped over some more clothes a couple weeks prior, nicer slacks, dress shirts, a couple pairs of shoes that definitely weren't ice-friendly. Nevertheless, he settled for a white t-shirt and blazer jacket sat over some dark jeans, and his trainers that at least wouldn't send him skidding with one wrong move.

The last few days had flown by rather quickly, and surprisingly, Tom always found that he had something to do. Usually hanging out with Jordan; he introduced Tom to a plethora of video games ranging from Super Mario to Zelda. It was one of the few things Tom found Jordan didn't complain about. And when they weren't inside playing video games, they were out exploring Times Square.

And this worked out quite well because when Noelle wasn't spending time with her family, she was always rehearsing. But in the evenings they would spend time together, watch more movies and just relax. Tom was practicing his cooking skills as well, nothing too fancy but he perfected how to cook salmon in a pan and boiling rice. Noelle was grateful too, especially as her muscles ached from her practice. The more time they spent together, the more fascinated they became with each other.

The campus was typically closed for the holidays, making exceptions for shows such as this. Audience members were lined up just outside the auditorium door, shielded from the cold within campus but still bundled up in long or heavy coats, scarves and hats.

Tom found Noelle's family already settled in their balcony seats, Franca spotted him first and waved him down. And just as Maurice had said, there was an excellent view of the stage from their spot. The heavy red curtain was drawn over the stage, dim mood light reflecting off the material and back on the shadowy faces mingling in the crowd.

Backstage meanwhile was a calamity mess, stage hands rushing to finish prop placement, sets, and stage cues. The ballerinas were also making their last minute touch ups, makeup, hair, tutus, dusting their slippers in rosin and some even sewing their tights and ribbons to their slippers to keep everything snug and in place. Noelle however was dawdling behind the curtain, peaking out through the sliver at the side to skim over obscure faces.

It was a delicate balance, trying to locate her family without being too conspicuous, but after a bit of searching, she spotted them. Chiara was engrossed in her phone, bathed in the soft glow of the screen, while Uncle Maurice struggled to free himself from his coat. Aunt Franca was deep in conversation with Tom, who, despite the dim lighting, seemed to blend into the shadows effortlessly, though he appeared to be holding his own in their lively discussion. Noelle's stomach was aflutter, not from the performance unfolding before her, but from the sight of Tom. Her attention was fixed on him, and the magic of the evening's entertainment paled in comparison.

"Noelle!" Stanis' voice bellowed behind her, he was storming her way as Noelle turned, "Pre-show in two minutes!"

Tom found Franca fascinating. She was a captivating woman, full of vibrant tales from her travels to exotic locales. Her stories were peppered with encounters with intriguing characters from whom she had negotiated for unique souvenirs to add to her collection. Nevertheless, Tom's anticipation grew as he eagerly awaited the start of the show. His eyes couldn't help but flicker towards the curtain, eager to catch a glimpse of Noelle as the curtain would lift. His curiosity and excitement were palpable, adding to the charged atmosphere of the evening.

And sure enough the lights dimmed down to near darkness, a single spotlight illuminating a spot on the curtains. The theater was alive with excitement as the curtains rose, revealing a beautifully adorned stage set for "The Nutcracker" ballet. Tom sat back in his seat, his eyes wide with anticipation, taking in the magical scene unfolding before him. The stage was transformed into a winter wonderland, with a backdrop of snow-covered trees that stretched up to a starry sky. The stage was lit with a soft, moonlit glow, casting a magical aura over the scene. Glittering snowflakes fell gently from above, adding to the enchantment of the setting. The dancers moved gracefully across the stage, each step perfectly choreographed to Tchaikovsky's enchanting music.

The Miniature March Dance began, and the stage came alive with the lively and charming movements of the young dancers. They moved with precision and grace, their movements synchronized to the playful notes of the music. The choreography was intricate, with the dancers forming intricate formations and patterns, showcasing their skill and talent. Tom was captivated by the youthful exuberance of the performers, as were the audience, and the dance brought a smile to everyone's face.

As the performance unfolded, Tom found his eyes repeatedly drawn to Noelle, who gracefully moved among the dancers. Clad in a celestial white gown, she seemed to float across the stage, her every movement a dance of ethereal beauty. While she was currently a background presence in the performance, Tom couldn't help but be mesmerized by her presence, captivated by her effortless grace and enchanting allure.

Next came the Arabian Dance, and Bianca took centre stage. A hush fell over the audience. She was a vision of grace and lithe elegance, moving with a captivating fluidity that mesmerized all who watched. Her every movement was deliberate and confident, exuding a subtle but undeniable aura of cockiness.

Bianca's performance was a masterclass in control and precision, her movements perfectly synchronized to the haunting melody of the music. As she danced, she seemed to command the stage, drawing the audience into her world with a confident allure that was impossible to ignore. The Arabian Dance was no easy feat and Tom had to give Bianca credit where credit was due, however he couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved as her gaze always seemed to land on him time and time again.

Soon enough it was Noelle's time to shine. As the familiar notes of the Sugar Plum Fairy dance began to fill the theatre, Tom's gaze was immediately drawn to Noelle, who had taken centre stage. She looked radiant in her tutu, rose gold detailing shimmering in the lights, her gorgeous long hair tied back in a sleek up-do, and a delicate, shiny tiara placed upon her head. She looked like a true princess, her every movement a testament to her skill and grace. Despite the beauty of the dance unfolding before him, Tom found it impossible to tear his eyes away from Noelle, his admiration for her growing with each passing moment.

Noelle, for her part, felt a mixture of nerves and excitement as she danced. She had dreamed of this moment for years, to prove herself worthy of the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and now that it was finally here, she couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous excitement. However, as she danced, it wasn't the perfection of her performance that consumed her thoughts, but the way her stomach fluttered with butterflies every time she caught Tom's gaze. It was a feeling unlike any other, a mix of joy, nerves, and she could see the admiration and affection in his gaze, which both thrilled and humbled her.

As the dance reached its climax, Tom found himself holding his breath, completely captivated by Noelle's performance. She danced with a grace and elegance that took his breath away, her every movement a testament to her talent and dedication. He couldn't help but think back to the moments he had seen her exhausted, bruised, and drained after long hours of practice. He could only imagine the dedication and hard work she had put in to reach this point, and it filled him with a deep sense of admiration for her. All those late nights and early mornings had led to this moment, and as he watched her graceful movements across the stage, he felt a swell of pride knowing that he had witnessed a small part of her journey to this incredible achievement. He swore he could've watched her -- become lost in her -- forever.

As the final notes of the dance faded away and Noelle took her bow, the audience erupted into applause, but Tom's eyes never left Noelle, his adoration for her greater than ever. She glanced up briefly, trying desperately not to become so overwhelmed with the applause, and her gaze fixating on Tom once more. His beaming smile was all the validation she needed in that moment.

The show progressed on, right up until the final Pas de Deux between the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Nutcracker. Tom watched among the crowd, his heart racing with a realization that took him by surprise. In that moment, he couldn't deny the truth to himself any longer. Watching her dance, he had felt something more than admiration or friendship. It was a crush, a flutter of emotions that he had been trying to ignore but now couldn't deny. Tom realized that he had developed feelings for Noelle, captivated by her everything. And if the previous few days had been anything to go by, there was a slim chance that she too felt the same way.

If only his own uncertainty wouldn't hold him back.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the hunger games x reader #original story #original female character #original series #imagines #imagine blog

[saturnville]

a symphony of regret, corioloanus snow

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x black fem oc (illia furdoix). warning: book accurate snow, arranged marriage, toxic!coriolanus. trigger warning: stupid coriolanus. content: it's been weeks since their tense interaction, which has allowed coriolanus to ponder about his marriage with illia, and he begins to realize what he could lose.

an: I got an ask from @ietss about these two and figured I'd come out of temporary retirement to post it. anyway, I was listening to the "scheming" instrumental and this is what came to mind. by the way, this is long.

tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesim to keep your spot on the tag list, you are expected to interact! reblog and comment for continued work!

The air in Coriolanus Snow's office hung heavy with the scent of authority, a blend of polished mahogany and the subtle fragrance of Capitol roses. The room itself was a testament to his ascendancy—ornate furniture, walls adorned with portraits of influential figures, including that of his father, and the sprawling view of the Capitol below from the towering windows.

Coriolanus sat behind his desk, fingertips pressed together in contemplation. The city sprawled before him, a chessboard of power, each move calculated and premeditated.

His piercing blue eyes, cold as the ice in his veins, scanned the landscape below. The serenity of the evening concealed the storm brewing within him. It was a symphony of power and regret, a melody only he could decipher.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of crimson and burnt orange across the sky, Coriolanus's gaze fixated on a figure below. A siren dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the opulence of the Capitol. Illia Furdoix, his wife.

She moved with ethereal grace, scarlet heels clicking against the pavement in a cadence that echoed in his mind. He could recognize its cadence with ease. Her dark hair, meticulously blown out, danced in the evening breeze. A new bag adorned her arm, a silent testament to his observation. When they were engaged, he caught her eyes dancing across the details as they passed through a boutique.

But it was the wedding set on her left hand that held his attention—the flawless oval diamond in a high setting, a public symbol of their union. Only he knew the intricate secret engraved within the bands—his name etched into hers, hers into his. A silent vow, a binding commitment, a show that ended without applause once the audience was no longer around.

On her lips was a smile. It was bright and gleaming as she spoke to the individual in front of her. A man. Another man. A man who was not him. A man who was not him, that made her smile so wide that her dimples made a rare appearance.

Her head flew back in laughter. A sound he was not sure he could recognize by memory. What man didn't recognize his wife's smile and sound of laughter? A man who could only recognize the sound of his wife's cries. Cries that he provoked with ease.

Coriolanus felt a pang of recognition, a revelation unfolding. The grandeur of the Capitol office faded into the background as the weight of his regrets settled upon his shoulders. The realization was a slow burn, a dawning awareness that he had been blind to the depth of his own failings.

He was a terrible husband.

Coriolanus was used to control. He was used to fixing problems immediately, hovering over every move until it was completed to his standard. But, this, his marriage; was the one thing he couldn't control. The potential of losing his marriage, of losing his wife, was great. What could he do to combat that?

No amount of gifts, money, or luxury would change her mind. He couldn't buy her forgiveness. Coriolanus was many things but he was far from a fool. None of that would work on her. He wouldn't be convinced that it would work on him if the roles were reversed.

If the roles were reversed, he pondered. How would he feel? Having been fed a lie by a gold spoon. Having dreams of perfect love and marriage shattered by the hand of the one who was supposed to the heart with care and compassion. Could he imagine her brushing past him as she walked through the door when all he wanted was to feel her lips against his? What about her dismissing his attempts at conversation so she could bury her head in paperwork? Or if she only responded to his touch to get a release and not to feel their souls coming together as one? If she'd bullied him the way he had done her.

His world would crumble.

Coriolanus sat back in his white chair, the cold veneer of authority crumbling alongside the fragments of his self-assuredness. The sun had surrendered to the night, casting long shadows that mirrored the looming darkness enveloping his conscience.

Below, the Capitol glittered with its false promises, a city built on illusions that mirrored his own life. Illia continued her conversation, oblivious to the turmoil she stirred within him. The man by her side, a mere spectator in this intricate dance of revelation, remained blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the nation's most powerful man.

Coriolanus' eyes, once icy and calculating, betrayed a vulnerability not often seen. A husband's failures, a leader's regrets—all laid bare in the privacy of his office.

Amid the turmoil, a determination ignited within him. He was a political strategist. A machine that could not be shut down or destroyed, If he, the most powerful man in the nation, he could figure out how to control the fate of his marriage. A plan unfolded, a strategy born of desperation and remorse. He would win her back, not with gifts or grand gestures, but with a genuine reformation of character.

The clinking of Illia's scarlet heels against the pavement below echoed in his ears, a haunting reminder of the distance that had grown between them. He rose from his chair, the crimson hues of the city below mirroring the resolve in his eyes. His eyes followed her as she made her way to the Capitol building.

It was not long before he heard soft chatter outside the door. "Is my husband in his office?" Her voice was soft, low.

"Yes, Mrs. Snow." Peacekeepers scrambled to open the door for her. The two doors peeled open, revealing Illia Furdoix Snow in all her wonder. Coriolanus' heart increased in rate for the first time in a long time.

Once the doors closed, the pleasant smile on Illia's lips dropped to a straight line. Her fingers brushed the flyaway hairs away from her face, then gripped her purse. "I cooked. Then I came to the city to look for new towels for the bathroom. Wanted to let you know your plate will be in the oven whenever you get back. I assume I'll see you in the morning, so be safe tonight."

Illia's tone was emotionless and it made his nerves spike. Was this how she felt all this time?

Coriolanus cleared his throat and walked around his desk. His dress shoes kissed the marble floor as he made his way to her. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his perfectly tailored pants. "I, um, I planned on coming home tonight. And eating dinner with you."

Illia's head jerked back and her eyebrows raised. The shock was written over her features like a book. Her lips parted but words did not flow from them. She wasn't convinced.

"Illia," Coriolanus said lowly. "I owe you an apology. It's long overdue and it won't make up for what I've put you through, but I..."

Her gaze remained fixed on him, a mix of skepticism and curiosity playing in her eyes. Coriolanus swallowed the lump forming in his throat, acutely aware of the gravity of his words.

"I've taken you for granted, disregarded your feelings, and failed as a husband. "The man you've seen, the man who rarely came home and when he did, brought nothing but a cold presence—I don't want to be that man anymore."

Coriolanus paused, allowing his words to hang in the air. The vulnerability he displayed was unfamiliar, a crack in the stoic facade he wore so effortlessly. Illia's teeth caught her bottom lip as her eyes welled with tears. She began to rock back and forth on the balls of her feet in anxiousness. Was this truly a reality?

"You deserve more than a distant husband. You deserve someone who cherishes you, who respects you, and who appreciates the warmth and love you bring into our home," he continued, his gaze never leaving hers. "I want to be that person for you. I know you may not believe it right now, I know actions speak louder than words, but I am going to show you that I want to be and can be the man you dreamt of having as a husband...if you'll let me."

The weight of the moment hung in the air, the room silent except for the distant hum of the Capitol outside. Coriolanus awaited her response, his heart pounding with a vulnerability he hadn't felt in years.

For the first time, she cracked a smile in his presence. It was small- and only showed a few of her teeth, but she smiled. She smiled because of him. Illia smiled because of him.

"Thank you for your apology," she started. "Accountability is important when trying to change. I can't make any promises to you, Coriolanus, of how long it will take for me to trust you or for us to get to the point where we would like to be, but, I do believe you're being sincere. So, we'll take it a day at a time."

Coriolanus released the breath he was unaware he held tight within his chest. Maybe he did have control over something after all.

"Let's go home, Coriolanus." Home. The word resonated with a chance at redemption. Taking her hand, Coriolanus followed Illia out of the office, leaving the weight of the past behind and stepping into the uncertain but hopeful future.

#saturnville #original writing #original content #black!reader #original characters #original story #black reader #coriolanus snow x black reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow x illia snow by saturnville #president coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas

[summerdiphylleia]

The next right thing

Chapter 2: The Quarter Quell Announcement

Summary: The 74th Hunger Games were over, and Felicia ought to have anticipated how often she'd find herself pondering over what could've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.

pairing: coriolanus snow x wife!oc

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

***********

“One.”

“Two.” 

“Three.”

Felicia forced her eyes shut, waiting for the bangs that announced the death of the tributes to go off, but they never did. She flinched when the voice of a man echoed through the room instead. 

“Stop!”

If Seneca Crane had been a smarter man, he would’ve kept quiet. 

“Stop!” She heard the gamemaker shout once again. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games.” 

Felicia went still, as images of the District 12 tributes –victors, she corrected herself– embracing each other glided through the screen. She knew she ought to feel happy about it, surely all of the Capitol was celebrating, but Felicia couldn’t bring herself to share such joy. She was happy the tributes –victors– were alive, but she’d seen something more in their actions than simply two young people in love that could not survive without each other. She’d seen defiance. And she was sure her husband had seen it too. A daunting frown claimed her face, and her hands were closed into fists so tight she could barely feel her nails attempting to dig into the skin of her palms. Katniss Everdeen had defied the Capitol, and the Capitol had allowed it. Worse, it had rewarded it. 

The television had gone black by the time she jumped from her seat, and started hurrying through the manor’s empty hallways. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lan was following her path. He moved like a cat, barely making any sound, but the man had been like a shadow to her for the most of twenty years, and took his job of protecting her very seriously. He was a tall man, surprisingly fit for someone who was around her age. More often than not a calculating scowl claimed his features; and she took pride in knowing that his rare smiles were reserved for her. She didn’t like thinking about what she’d do without him. 

“Don’t do anything foolish, Felicia.” He warned her, taking up a vigilant stance just outside the room. It had been nothing but a whisper, but she had understood. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, her apprehension mirrored in his gaze, and she nodded, before moving forward. 

Felicia walked into the sunroom, and found her husband tending to the roses. He was standing with his back towards her, but she could already tell he was livid. He stood rigid in his feet, as his arms worked stiffly against the flowers, occasionally cutting them with more force that was necessary. 

She approached him, keeping a steady, dull pace. “Coriolanus?” She asked, calmly. 

The President didn’t move at the sound of her voice, as if he had been expecting her already. He kept on trimming the roses, and a heavy silence filled the air between the two. “What are you going to do to him?” She asked, voice trembling just the slightest. He turned around, slightly taken aback by her question. It wasn’t usual at all for her to acknowledge such things, and he didn’t like it when she stepped out of his comfort zone. It wasn’t her place to question his actions. He let confusion show on his face for just a few seconds, before his lips split into a smile.

“Well, he had a very simple choice to make. I’m just going to present him with another very simple choice.” He shrugged, as he drew nearer her, while cleaning the pruning scissors on a cloth.

Felicia gulped, and shifted uncomfortably in her place. “And her?” She wondered if she was crossing a line by making such a question, a dangerous line. She’d always been so sure such a thing would never exist when it came to her, as she’d always spoken somewhat freely around her husband, but the look on the President’s face made her think otherwise.

She insisted that the Games were barbaric and maintained her stance on that. In return, he insisted that they were necessary and maintained his stance on that. It had always been like that. But never had someone from the districts dare to defy him in the way Katniss Everdeen just had. Or at least they hadn’t done so in front of the cameras, showcasing their actions to the whole of Panem. 

“As long as she understands that what she’s done, she’s done for love, she should be no problem.” He said, throwing the scissors into a cushion. “You must be happy with how everything turned out.” He muttered, as he lifted his hand to gently stroke her cheek. 

“I am,” she sighed, frozen by his touch, “two children get to live.”

“Hm, darling,” he chuckled, leaving a kiss on her temple, “you can be so naive sometimes.” 

*********** 

The Games were left behind and the air started to cool, as Felicia eased into her usual routine once again. She wrote letters, attended charity events and couture fittings, helped Theodore with his Academy homework, bought unnecessary decoration for the mansion, visited her children at the hospital; hosted hollow, vacuous parties for Panem’s high society. 

With the cold, her already aching arthritis got worse, and she was instructed by her medics to use a walking staff, to help her ease her sore ankles. But it only helped in making her feel impossibly old. 

“Everyone’s going to make fun of me!” Felicia complained one night, in front of her family.  She stood barefoot against the velvety rug, switching the cane from one hand to the other, playfully showing it off. Her two older children had come to the manor for a casual dinner earlier, and the five of them had moved onto the sitting room to enjoy some tea. Night had fallen terribly cold outside, but the interiors of the manor were warm and cosy, as it had been instructed that every fireplace within shall be lighted.

“You’re Panem’s First Lady,” Arabella laughed, “no one is going to make fun of you.” She remarked, as she sat next to Coriolanus on the sofa, with a cup of warm tea in her hand. Max and Arabella had been spending so much more time in the manor lately, and Felicia was the happiest she’d felt in a long time. Whether their newfound fondness for being with her stemmed from a sense of responsibility as she aged or a simple desire to visit her, she didn’t know. She chose to believe the latter. 

“But surely everyone will think of me as an old bat,” she whined in a silly fashion, as Max walked towards her. 

“I promise no one will think that”, he reassured her, while resting a gentle arm around her shoulders. 

“Hm, I might.” Coriolanus sneered from his place on the couch, holding back a smile. 

Felicia gasped, and theatrically put a hand against her chest, pretending to be utterly offended at his comment. Arabella grabbed a cushion and playfully hit him with it, “no you won’t!” She warned his father, as the two boys kept on cackling.

“Best thing about this staff, mom,” Theo explained, taking the walking stick from her hands, weighing it in his hands,“is that if anyone dares making such comments, you get to do this!” He dashed against his father, and repeatedly patted on him with it, acting as if he were hitting him. 

The boy’s action managed to break Coriolanus’ stoic facade, and his laughter started to echo through the room alongside the rest of his family’s.

Scenes like that one repeated themselves in the months that followed, as snow stubbornly settled into the city, and life in the Capitol finally appeared to be returning back to normal. But Felicia heard the reports —information not meant for her ears, but the manor could be an awfully small place to keep such volatile secrets. Rebellions were happening all over the country; no amount of peacekeepers were enough to keep the insurrection in District 8 at bay, and District 11 was at the brink of following their lead. 

Coriolanus refused to share such things with her, limiting his conversations with her to trivial matters, which had started to put a veil between the two. He kept on retreating into himself, and she noticed he was being more paranoid than ever; cameras had made their way into every room in the manor, their bedroom included. And, although she had no way of proving it, she was sure she’d also heard the distinct sound of jabberjays’ echoes around the gardens. Felicia couldn’t help but worry once again about having spoken out of turn after the Games. 

She was settling into bed one night, later than usual, about to read for a while, when her husband walked into the room, coat still on, snowflakes only just melting into the fur. She hadn’t seen him in three days. It wasn’t usual of him to disappear like that. 

“Coriolanus!” She gasped, and got out of bed as quickly as her wrists allowed her, to help him get out of his heavy clothes. She took his coat and scarf, and left them on the sofa right outside the crystal doors to their bedroom. 

“Where were you?” She asked, out of breath, as she wrapped her hands around her chest. The manor wasn’t cold, but a chill had somehow still managed to run through her spine. He reached down towards her, and kissed her with a closed mouth. “You should go back to bed, dearest, it’s already late.” He gently pushed her aside, and strided towards the bed. 

“But where were you, really?” She repeated herself, following his motion. 

“District 12.” He uttered, pulling the bedding over. And by the way he said those words, Felicia knew she wasn’t allowed to ask any questions. She just nodded, pursing her lips, and let him embrace her, as she closed her eyes. 

*********** 

Felicia wished for but one thing: to go to bed. Her feet hurt, her face felt too tight, and she was bored out of her mind. Yet, as the First Lady, her role at such events had but one purpose: to introduce people, excuse the President’s absence, and, most importantly, look radiant. At least she had managed the latter, or rather, her stylists had.

On that morning, a whole assembly of them had barged into her room to prepare her for the evening party. They had bathed her, coloured her hair, applied makeup to her face, and dressed her. Her stylist had chosen a metallic purple dress with an asymmetrical cut, paired with a golden undergown that stood out on her chest and highlighted her legs. Matching heels and shimmering makeup completed the look. Her hair was styled in a loose chignon adorned with golden accessories Tigris had once given her as a present. She knew her picture would be plastered all over the newspapers as the best–dressed of the evening.

“Ms. Cardew, may I have a dance with you?” Felicia heard a man’s voice behind her, as she sipped on what must’ve been her fifth glass of wine that night, but she paid no mind to it, it wasn’t directed to her, or at least she thought so. The music was too loud and the lights were too bright, her head had started to hurt and it was difficult to discern scenes on her whereabouts.

“Ms. Cardew?” She heard again, and seconds later she felt someone put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

Felicia had but turned around that Lan was already on her side, discreetly putting himself between her and the stranger. She studied the man for a moment, and then exchanged subtle glances with the bodyguard. Lan left at once, and Felicia extended a hand towards the man in front of her. 

Plutarch Heavensbee. A plump, middle–aged man, and frighteningly clever, maybe too much for his own sake. 

“Ms. Cardew,” he repeated himself, leaving a polite kiss on her hand,“you look the epitome of grace in this sea of extravagance. I apologise for frightening you.” 

“Mr. Heavensbee,” she smiled, “it’s me who should apologise; I didn’t realise you were speaking to me, I’m afraid it’s been years since I was last called by my maiden name.” Thirty eight years, to be precise. 

He hummed in response. “Would you care to join me for a dance?” She really didn’t want to. The wine had started to make her feel light–headed, and her ankles were sore.

“I’d be delighted, Mr. Heavensbee.” She smiled, allowing him to take her a few steps down into the dancing floor. People moved around, making space for them, and the cameras that followed. 

Felicia rested one hand on his shoulder as he placed his on her back, and they started to glide across the room, matching their steps with the music. 

“I thought that you could do with some invigorating conversation.” He leaned towards her, to avoid the cameras and people around from hearing their conversation. 

“Well you know what a rare thing that can be here in the Capitol.” She replied in a murmur, with a cheeky smile directed towards the cameras. “I hear you’re to be our new Gamemaker.” 

“Ah, news travel fast in the Capitol,” he smirked, “yes, I’ve been appointed as the new Head Gamemaker.” 

“A very prestigious position,” she smiled, as he made her twirl, “I suppose congratulations are in order.” 

Plutarch nodded with a meekly gesture, turning the corners of his lips downwards. “Thank you, Felicia. It's a role that demands creativity and innovation, wouldn't you say?” He added, raising an eyebrow. 

“Indeed,” she agreed, as she relished in the small amount of bravery the alcohol had given her, and added “although I must admit, the… nature of such creativity often leaves me conflicted.” 

The man simply stared at her, with an implacable expression on his face, making it difficult for Felicia to assert how he felt about her statement. 

“The Games are a spectacle, Felicia, but the true spectacle often lies in the shadows. Oh? It's all a matter of perspective, really.” He stated, with an esoteric look on his face. She was about to comment on it, but he interrupted her. “I’ve recently met your two oldest children.”

“You have?” Felicia asked, slightly taken aback. “And why is that?”

“I had to spend a couple of days at the hospital a handful of weeks ago, nothing too serious luckily. Very bright children indeed. I can see they’ve inherited your intelligence—

“Oh Mr. Heavensbee,” Felicia chuckled, feigning modesty ,“you’re being too—

“And defiance.” He cut her off, voice barely audible, as he had leaned in towards her so much, his mouth brushed her cheek. 

Felicia went still. “What…?” She began to ask, but they were interrupted. 

“Plutarch Heavesbee!” The voice of a woman resounded in her ears, even above the music. She was accompanied by two other people. Felicia, who was still hesitating on how to feel about Plutarch’s statement, almost jumped at the sight of them. 

“Katniss. Peeta.” The flashy woman clamoured. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee, Head Gamemaker. Successor to Seneca Crane.” 

“That’s a tough act to follow.” The young man commented, shaking Plutarch’s hand.

“Peeta!” 

Plutarch just laughed, as he seemed to have found the comment amusing rather than somewhat unpleasant. “May I introduce you to Felicia Snow?” He said, pointing towards her. 

“Mrs. Snow,” The woman said, with a modest curtsy, “you look radiant, as always.” 

“Thank you, Euphemia, you look very lovely yourself. It’s a pleasure meeting you both.” Felicia added, nervously staring at the two teenagers, who returned a polite smile and shook her hand. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thank you, we are very happy about it.” Peeta answered, as a grin claimed all of his features. How intriguing. He genuinely seemed happy about it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he added, with a soft smile, “they show you all the time on the television, you’re even more beautiful in person.” 

“Oh,” she giggled, bringing a hand to cover her mouth, in a flustered fashion, “well, my stylists are very good at their jobs. How are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s excessive.” Katniss was quick to answer, her voice steady. 

Felicia smiled graciously, acknowledging the tension between herself and Katniss. The dance floor seemed to tighten around them, as they got caught between the profligacy of the Capitol and the stark reality of the Games.

“The Capitol has its own way of celebrating, doesn’t it? But I agree, the extravagance can be a little overwhelming.” 

“Overwhelming is an understatement.” The girl answered, bluntly, eyes staring into Felicia’s. 

“What Katniss means,” Peeta was quick intervene, “well, it is a bit much, but make it any simpler and you might as well deprive the Capitol of all its fun, right?”  

Katniss shot him a quick side–eye, and then forced a smile on her face, turning towards her once again. Felicia offered her a weak smile. She could tell the girl didn’t like her, and Felicia understood that. She privately boasted about not enjoying Games, commended herself on being –What, exactly? Morally superior to the rest?– and yet had never actively acted against them, except for complaining. Nothing but sanctimonious bluff. She was in no way better than the rest; no different than those gaudy, self–absorbed, fake individuals she so very bragged about not tolerating.  I am no better than my husband. 

Felicia realised that she wouldn’t be able to keep on feigning a smile in her face for that much longer, and studied the room around her. There were many other people lingering around them, waiting to talk to the victors, staring with jealousy at her. She briskly made her excuses, claiming she was expected to make some introductions, and left. 

She tried walking in a straight line through the path she knew would eventually lead to her room, but such an action was proving difficult with the amounts of alcohol she had in her blood. Her movements were marked by an unsteady sway, and more than once, she stumbled over her own feet, struggling to maintain her balance. 

Lan found her before she could make a spectacle of herself, discreetly grabbing her by the waist, and quickly guided her away from the party. He didn’t comment on her uncharacteristic drunkenness, and they settled instead for a calm stroll, thankful that the ear–splitting noises from the party were nothing but a muffled sound at that point. 

Minutes into their walk she looked up towards him, and sullenly leaned into him. “They hate me you know,” she whispered, lips turning into a pout and eyes glossy, as he led her through the empty hallways of the manor, “Katniss and Peeta.” 

But voicing such thoughts didn’t bring her any solace; she didn’t get to complain that her actions, or rather the lack of them, had had consequences. Suddenly there were tears in her eyes, and she couldn’t make them stop from falling into her cheeks. 

“They don’t hate you.” Lan comforted her, eyes softening. She looked up towards him, locking her gaze on his. He had such a gentle stare; warm, soft watercolour eyes that reminded her of the sea. She wondered if he ever missed the ocean, if he ever missed his district. District 4. They weren’t strangers to the Games over there either. She wondered how much he’d suffered by her actions, surely he’d been affected by the Games at some point. No one could escape from that, her husband made sure of it. 

“Yes they do,” she whimpered, lips quivering, clumsily wiping the tears on her face, “and they have every reason for doing so.” 

*********** 

Winter weaved into spring, and the Capitol once again started buzzing with excitement for the upcoming Games. Games unlike any other, for that year marked the 75th Hunger Games, the most anticipated Quarter Quell. It turned the citizens crazy, which was the ultimate goal Felicia supposed, through the introduction of twists and challenges that made each iteration unforgettable. They served as a reminder of the Capitol’s control and a testament to its capacity for innovation in the pursuit of entertainment. 

Felicia started to see Plutarch Heavensbee more often than not around the manor, holding private, clandestine discussions with her husband. The significance of these meetings left Coriolanus with scarce time for her, reducing their exchanges to the necessities, often focused on their children. He no longer slept in their shared bedroom, except when his personal needs dictated otherwise. Oddly enough, she always welcomed him. It felt good to be desired. 

She was less than excited when Coriolanus announced she was expected at the presentation of the Quarter Quell, but as always she simply forced an amicable smile into her face and waded through the charade. Standing once again before the entirety of the Capitol, Felicia steeled herself for the announcement of the 75th Hunger Games.

“...and now on this,” her husband spoke to the microphone, standing in the atrium above the Avenue of the Tributes, “the 75th Anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the 3rd Quarter Quell as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol.”

A most imperceptible frown appeared in Felicia’s forehead, puzzled by such remark. He wouldn’t. 

 “On this, the 3rd Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district.” He declared, as his lips turned into a very subtle smile. Gasps born from indignation erupted from the crowds, and for the first time in all her years as the First Lady, Felicia's façade crumbled. Her eyes widened, and she brusquely turned her head towards the President. Though her lack of composure lasted but a moment, she knew he would have noticed. “Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health, or situation…” She could hear Coriolanus still talking, but it felt as if he were speaking from a distant, muffled place. 

She fled to her bedroom as promptly as she was allowed, hunted by the screams of Cato under the mutts.

*********** 

“This is your doing, and the consequences shall rest upon your shoulders.”

No, she kept on shaking her head, as tears fell on her cheeks, none of this would've happened if Seneca Crane had been a smarter man.

*********** 

I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it

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