#coriolanus im in your walls

[mockingjay-sings]

Top 10 anime betrayals

[phfenomena]

❝i hope i was your favorite crime.❞ || coriolanus snow x f!reader

| request- hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.

| A/N- i wanted so bad to make sooooo angsty but i fought the demons. def ooc everybody besides festus. fuck you festus. hope you like it as much as i do 🫶🏻

| WARNINGS- alcohol consumption, creepy men, bad fathers (relatable), nice coriolanus snow, festus creed (he deserves a warning), eating, making out, traumatized sejanus (im sorry sejanus i love you)

the eldest plinth daughter. not an heir, but something you’d want to marry into. if you could get her, you’d never need to do anything again in your life. coriolanus knew that, he reveled in that. he’d never met her, all the times he went over to the plinth’s apartment she was either out or the door to her bedroom was tightly locked- not accepting visitors.

he wondered what she did with her time, was she in university? sejanus seems to never talk about his sister unless someone asks. but yet here she was. a floor length silver dress caught coriolanus’ eye, turning his head to follow the figure. she stood tall and confidently next to her brother. his eyes cascaded over the entire family, all in the same tantalizing silver. they were brightly shining in the ballroom of the benefit. it’d be hard to ignore them. he hated that.

he studied her, they way he could almost see a resemblance to sejanus but feeling as if he’s grasping at straws. her left hand holding a champagne glass she hasn’t drank from, and her right hand resting on sejanus’ shoulder. she’s nodding along to whatever nonsense pup harrington is spitting at her, no doubt making a pass.

she excuses herself and points at her glass, which is now empty after having to listen to the poor boy. when she reaches the full glasses lined up on the table coriolanus makes his move. “hello, ms.plinth.” her head turns to him and her eyes narrow. “coriolanus snow. my brothers supposed best friend- where’s tigris? i like her.” she quickly downs the glass and reaches for another. coriolanus can feel the disdain for him leaking out of her pores.

“she’s, um, she’s back at home. with grandma’am. she is quite nice to be around, isn’t she? how are you enjoying your night?” he attempts to flip the conversation back to her- oh wait, she’s not even looking at him anymore. her eyes find sejanus’ as he’s talking to livia cardew, and she begins walking in his direction. “nice talking to you, coriolanus.” but he felt like it definitely wasn’t nice. was he wanting to marry her for her money? yes. but was she also beautiful and apparently quite funny, as ma plinth has said? also yes.

she spent the rest of night collecting champagne glasses and not leaving sejanus’ side. even he was beginning to get bothered by the bachelors approaching his sister. she leaned against the back wall, yes, another glass in hand. she’d gotten roped into a conversation with festus, clearly tortuous. coriolanus was standing with sejanus about a foot away, so sejanus could keep and eye on festus.

“it’s just so frustrating, coryo! all these guys coming up and trying to make a pass at my sister while i’m right there, if i didn’t know any better i would’ve taken pup harrington outside. you should’ve heard some of the stuff he was saying to her. it’s horrible.” sejanus rants while staring at festus. “well, she’s gonna have to get married eventually, sejanus.” coriolanus says with a slight smile to his bestfriend.

“i know that, just none of these guys. we’ve been everyday with them at the academy. you know how bad they are, the shit they say about women in general. i don’t want those guys with her.” it’s obvious he’s quite over protective of her, even though she’s three years older than him. coriolanus nods along with him and pats his back.

“i’ll go save her.” coriolanus comforts his friend and makes his way to festus. “sejanus said he needed your opinion on some ideas for the food, seemed urgent.” she nods and offers a knowing smile to coriolanus. festus leans his head on the wall “man! i really felt like i was getting somewhere with her” coriolanus rests a hand on his shoulder. “trust me, you definitely weren’t.”

the party has picked up and died down, everyone sitting to eat but coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out where she was. she wasn’t sitting with her family and unless she had friends he didn’t know, he couldn’t see her anywhere. he’d made his way outside to take a breather from all the talking and hugging old people who knew his parents.

that’s when his eyes laid upon the girl in the silver dress, and he took a seat next to her on the steps. she’s staring out into the gardens and her eyes are glazed over. no champagne glass in her hand this time. she doesn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m really drunk right now and i hate almost everyone in there. all they care about is money and those stupid hunger games.” she confided in him and rested her chin on her arms that are wrapped around her knees. “yeah, you didn’t look like you were having a great time. i tried counting how many glasses you had but i lost count after ten.” she lightly laughed and shook her head.

“i think it was thirteen but i’m not sure, i drank four while festus was chirping in my ear about how many children he wanted.” she feigned chills at the mention of his name and they laughed. she turned to look at him with a barley noticeable smile “you’re not like them, are you? you’re more like sejanus. quiet and doesn’t bother women they want to marry.” the comparison of sejanus would normally upset him, but coming from her it felt the highest compliment a man could receive.

she rubbed her hands over her arms to conserve warmth and coriolanus quickly removed his blazer to wrap around her and she muttered a small thanks. resuming her staring at the gardens. “would you like to grab you some water? or something to eat? it’s not gonna be very good for you tomorrow morning if you don’t eat something.” he whispers towards and she nods her head.

as coriolanus is walking back in, the plinths are walking out. “hey coryo. we’re heading home for the night as ma doesn’t feel too well, have you seen-“ coriolanus points outside “she’s on the steps, make sure she eats something when you get home. way too much champagne for a human.” seianus claps his hand against coriolanus’ chest and continues outside.

the sun is battering down on the capitol but the plinths home is cooler than a beautiful spring day, probably for the hungover girl inside. coriolanus knocks on the door and smiles as his eyes meet ma’s. “oh! coriolanus, it’s so good to see you. we didn’t talk much last night. come in! i just finished up some pies!” she ushers him inside as sejanus joins them in his mothers corner of the kitchen.

after the grueling and quite long conversation with ma coriolanus excused himself. sejanus seemingly interested in this new sugar ma had found. as coriolanus rounded the corner to her room, he stopped. suddenly feeling quite nervous and as if he might throw up. her bedroom door opened and her eyes meet his, he looks down and she’s holding his blazer out. “i heard you talking to ma, here this.” her calloused tone returns, maybe she only likes him she’s drunk. he better find a lot more champagne.

the plinth family plus coriolanus are sitting in the sun room, drinking iced tea and munching on whatever treats ma had baked. “so, coriolanus, do you have any plans on getting married after university?” strabo’s deep and rough voice cut over his wife’s story.

coriolanus set his tea down “i’d hope so, certainly.” his eyes skip between strabo and his daughter. she’s sitting with her knees pulled up to chest and she’s looking out the window. “well you know how much we’d love to have you in the family, we could arrange your marriage with-“ she sets her cup down harshly and stands up.

“you always do this! could you just leave me alone? maybe i don’t want to get married, ma said it was fine if i didn’t marry.” she’s waving her hands around and waits for him to answer. when she’s met with silence she storms out and slams the sunroom door. “strabo, you can’t make her marry someone she doesn’t love.” someone she doesn’t love.

coriolanus stands up and thanks them for the tea. “tigris wanted to head to the market and i’d never let her go alone, i’ll see you guys tomorrow night.”

he walks by her door and tries the handle, quietly. he fully expected it to be locked but the door swings open and she’s laying face down on the bed. “sejanus, go away.” she grumbled through her mattress. “it’s not sejanus.” she sighs and sits up, staring at him.

“do you not knock before entering a room?” she tilted her head and studied him. “i expected it to be locked, sorry. i’ll knock next time.” his eyes seem to gravitate towards the floor and he can’t will himself to bring them back up.

“i’m sorry about my father. i’m sure it made you very uncomfortable, he’s just always trying to marry me off.” her hands fidget awkwardly in her lap. “i wasn’t too uncomfortable, any guy would be lucky to marry you. i always heard that you were quite mean, i’ve yet to see that.”

she scoffed and turned her head to the window. “they only say that because i don’t hesitate to speak my mind. i taught sejanus that. i am definitely what they call me, but only to them.” why does she feel so comfortable spilling her guts to him?

“i saw you and sejanus’ sister a few minutes ago, coriolanus. are you willing to deal with her grating voice and attitude for the plinths money?” arachne sneers towards him and the group laughs. “it helps that she’s pretty, it’s already hard enough trying to talk to her.” coriolanus regrets it the second it escapes his mouth.

she liked him. she really did like coriolanus snow, but who doesn’t? she weaved her way through the crowd trying to escape him. he was hot on her trail until he catches up to her in one of the various bedrooms inside the ravinstalls estate.

“do you think i’m stupid, coriolanus? be honest.” he scrambles to find the words but his brain couldn’t function in the one moment he desperately needed it. “i said you were different, i talked to you about things i liked, i would tell ma all about you. but you aren’t different, you’re just like the others.” he ran his hand through his hair. “i was different, i am different. i don’t know why i said that, it just came out. i didn’t mean it, i promise.”

he attempted to take her hand but she ripped out of his grasp and stomped out of the room. shit.

the next day her door was locked. and the next. and the next. he wasn’t even sure she was there anymore. sejanus hasn’t mentioned anything but he wished he would. he wished he would tell him if she was okay or if he majorly screwed up.

as coriolanus and sejanus sit in the sunroom attempting to study, there’s a knock on the door. coriolanus cranes his neck to see festus ravinstill standing there with a bouquet of flowers. god, this kid is tragic. but then he sees you, take the flowers with a smile and a kiss on his cheek. strabo’s never looked happier.

coriolanus suffered in silence watching festus become a daily guest and drowning out sejanus’ complaints about him being there. for once in his life, he agreed with sejanus. when he enters the kitchen to refill his glass of lemonade he sees her watering the plants in the kitchen.

“don’t marry him. he won’t be good to you.” she drops her head and turns to him. “and you would?” she spits back sending him into a whirlwind. “yes.” he whispers out and she takes a few steps closer to him. “festus is nice and fathers happy with this. i don’t have another choice, coriolanus. i have to do this” how does she always sound so sure of herself? maybe coriolanus could take a class from her.

their eyes finally meet, after weeks of not seeing her eyes, she’s finally looking at him. “you could marry me, instead. i wouldn’t treat you like a prize, like festus would.” she steps impossibly closer and he feels like he can’t breathe when she’s around. oxygen becomes molasses and his knees become jelly.

she looks over coriolanus’ shoulder and stands up on her toes to kiss him. he takes a moment to catch on but he his hands find purchase on her waist and he leans down. all nerves thrown out the window and all he can think of is her, how she tastes, how she smells, he can’t even remember who festus is.

her hands wind his curly hair around her fingers as she swipes her tongue against his own and he pushes her against the refrigerator, causing a few magnets to fall onto the floor. his hands are trailing up and down the waist of the yellow dress she had decided to wear that day.

festus had left the plinths the second he saw her look at him over coriolanus’ shoulder. knowing he lost and there’s nothing he could’ve done.

she pulls back, panting. “i’ll marry you, just don’t call me annoying again.” her lipstick is smeared across both of their mouths and he gives her a dopey smile. “i wouldn’t dream of it” he brushes stray hair out of her face.

“in the kitchen?! we make food there!” sejanus is standing in the doorway, seemingly traumatized. “sorry, sej.” he shakes his head walking away but throwing a secretive thumbs up at coriolanus.

[darby-rowe]

Okay so;

Obsessed with the idea of a academy!sub!coryo never being able to last. Like man busts after two pumps but will keep pushing himself through the overstimulation to make sure u cum all over his cock no matter how uncomfortable it is for him.

Thoughts? 🤔🤔

ugh this is YUMMYYY. im such a glutton for sub!coryo i could think of two scenarios for this ask.

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw slight dubcon

1. you could be nice about it! coryo just loves how tight and warm your pussy is around his cock — borderline obsessed. he can’t help it :( you’re just so pretty the way you lay under him, anticipating his dick inside you. he’ll enter inside you, and after a few thrusts he’s already shuddering and mewling as he shoots his load inside you. and all you can do is just encourage him to keep going. “it’s okay, baby, it’s okay” you coo as you hold his face in your hands, softly nodding at him. “just keep going. i know it’s a lot, but im almost there. keep going, baby, keep going.”

and when your walls tighten around his overstimulated cock as you cum all over his shaft, he’s on the verge of tears bc of how sensitive he is. and the two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling and holding each other 💕

OR…

2. oh you’re gonna make fun of him so much for finishing early. coriolanus snow — the son of crassus snow — is a 2 pump chump in bed?

and damn, you were excited to get in his pants too. you swooned over him for many nights, and now that you finally have him… he finishes in a matter of seconds? i mean, really, all you can do now is laugh! “are you serious?” you look at him before you guffaw. “you already came? and inside me at that?”

the look of pure embarrassment on his poor, pretty face almost makes you wanna pity him. almost.

“well, i haven’t finished yet,” you say matter-of-factly. “so keep going, pretty boy.”

and coryo’s baby blue eyes get so wet as tears of shame threaten to spill onto his pale cheeks. “i-i can’t. too much. ‘m too sensitive.”

with a roll of your eyes you flip yourselves over so now you’re riding him, despite the pathetic protests from the boy beneath you.

“too much. t-too much. so sensitive, please”

and then you finally cum on his cock. and shit wasnt even worth it. the orgasm was subpar at best.

but hey, you’re not totally cruel, so you decide to give the poor boy another chance to fuck you some other night. bc you’re such a nice person ✨

[celesterayel]

match made in heaven | coriolanus snow

pairing : coriolanus snow x scheming!reader

request: can I please have a mean!reader with snow whose absolutely obsessed with each other!!!!

IN WHICH — coriolanus snow isn't nice but neither are you. it's a match made in heaven.

"it was enchanting to meet you. all i know is, i was enchanted to meet you" - t.s.

w.c. 500+

warning(s) : snow being snow ✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ authors note istg im so obsessed with this man and it's not even funny

you hated him. you absolutely loathed coriolanus. now, that’s not to say you didn’t applaud his little performances or the way he could manipulate others around him to get what he wanted–because yes, it was impressive–but you hated how absolutely enchanted everyone was with him. 

there was no one at this stupid school or in the capitol that didn’t give him the attention that belonged to you. hell, even dean highbottom, who could give you a run for your money on how much he loathed snow, spent all his attention on that: hating him. you didn’t see what they saw. what was so special about someone who was named corioANUS snow?

you were so much prettier than he was, smarter than him, better in every way that mattered. you knew how to work the crowd to do your bidding. when others threatened your place or standing, you knew how to get rid of them quietly and efficiently so that no one knew it had been you behind it. 

of course, you were the top of the top. you didn’t understand all the fuss about him. one of these days, you were going to snap if one more teacher preached about “how perfect snow’s essay was!” or “how handsome he was!”. 

of course, you don’t know that while you obsess over the man, he’s doing the exact same. because look at how perfect you are! all he can think about is the fact that behind every innocent smile and kind act you hide behind, he can see the callousness and manipulation that you are. 

the man’s practically in love with you because for once, he doesn’t necessarily need to pretend to be nice or sweet. add to the fact that you're the perfect match for him when he becomes president of panem. man has already bought the ring that he’ll propose to you with one day.

that is after he’s made sure you won’t tell others about how crazy he truly is. he cannot risk his plans falling down the drain even for you. so, when you're on your way home, he’s got you pinned to the wall starting a whole speech about what would happen to you if you said anything. 

that’s when you fall in love. hands pinned to the wall as he’s threatening your life. what’s more romantic than being told you’ll die if you say anything about him? Well, him pressing a rough kiss to your lips as you stare at him. 

“are you out of your mind?”

“only for you, darling, only for you.”

y’all, are both whipped for each other from then on. 

you both collude from there: you need someone gone? snow doesn’t need another word, he's already making sure they're gone. because nothing is going to bother his sweet, sweet girl. he’s slightly unsure of how to proceed with something? you create an ingenious plan so quickly the man kisses you to high heaven because he’s so in awe. 

when he does become president of panem, the man just cannot get enough of you. he’s never loved you more but now all he can think about is how good power looks on you. when you walk into a room, you instantly capture his eye. he swears he’ll die before you ever leave his side. 

he’s still not a good person though but neither are you. you’re both a match made in heaven.

[rewrite-canon]

im going crazy with how people are starting to agree with snow that sejanus was really stupid and deserved what was coming to him. reading the books first should be a pre requisite to the movie idcccc if that takes away the wider audience, the wider audience all have smooth brains anyway.

“why was he colluding with rebels when he could’ve just thought about it pragmatically 🙄” i’m in your fucking walls. sejanus was never dumb, snow just kept pushing that perception of him through the book to deflect the fact that sejanus was an actual good person. snow thought himself the personification of good and benevolence, which was why everything he did had to have some half-assed excuse as to why he was justified in doing it. it was why he was actually tweaking in the woods when lucy gray left him, because he wanted to rid himself of her but he didn’t have an actual reason so he convinced himself of the most random scenario ever to justify trying to shoot at her. so we can establish that snow was an evil broke boy who clearly wasn’t good— then sejanus was a direct confrontation of snow’s own shortcomings towards that (i don’t think i have to detail how sejanus was genuine, it was obvious). coriolanus and sejanus are like the direct opposite characters of each other, and snow knew and took pride in this to an extent. which is why snow couldn’t admit that sejanus was good to himself, thus sejanus was deemed ‘stupid’ to protect his own deluded self actualisation (but this also includes other aspects like how the war made the plinths rich and the snows poor, leading to resentment and jealousy from snow).

“but that still didn’t mean he wasn’t doing dumb things throughout the book” was it really that dumb? a rebellion will always include some level of risk but i don’t hear anyone calling heavensbee stupid because it actually worked out for him. plus sejanus is district, so if we use our common sense of who he is as a character and emotional intelligence of his situation, it’s pretty easy to see why he would get in touch with rebels. he’s literally always yearned for the districts, he never once cared about his money or safety, which isn’t stupid, it’s sad. this was his way of dealing with the guilt of profiting from his people’s suffering— again, not stupid. you could argue he was reckless, especially when he went into the arena, but most people who simply cast him as a ‘dumb character’ ignore how troubled he is and fall into the very filtered lens of snow who was just concentrating on his stupidity.

sejanus’ growing radical actions had nothing to do with stupidity and everything to do with feeling helpless and like nothing was changing. he tried minor/low-risk things such as attempting to change the perception of the districts in the capitol, advocating against the hunger games etc etc. of course it didn’t work, so his options grew limited to more radical courses of action. its a natural line of thought— activists literally do it in real life when they feel as if their cause isn’t getting enough attention (eg. setting themselves on fire). sejanus is a desperate character who is so selfless in light of snow’s constant self-preservation. snow will always put himself first and be paranoid that he will be betrayed like he’s betrayed others, so he never understands sejanus’ disposition to help and trust people, so he labels him dumb. omg. like. sejanus is so not-stupid i’m actually gonna start freaking out!! this is defamatory leave my boo alone!! plz go read a book and work on media literacy i am begging!!!

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (15) ✧ coriolanus snow

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

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

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

chapter summary: you cannot seem to stay away. 

word count: 1,443

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

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter im so sorry, pet name (petal), not proofread

The Snow family cottage was beautiful. It looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The cobblestone walls, the window boxes overflowing with flowers, the ivy growing up the side of the house—all of it was gorgeous. Though you loved your life in the Capitol, a part of you would be content to live here forever and you hadn’t even seen the inside yet. 

“It was a wedding gift from my father to my mother,” Coriolanus said as he walked you up the stone path. “She always preferred the quiet. She would often come here just to escape the noise of the Capitol.”

“Your father must have loved your mother very much,” you said. To build an entire cottage as a wedding gift? You wondered how long it took. Buildings could be erected quite quickly in the Capitol due to all of the resources being sent straight there. But even then, there could be delays when things were not so readily available. How long had it taken to bring everything out to the countryside? 

“They had a long courtship, so he could have the cottage ready by the time they wed,” Coriolanus continued. “In the end, it was worth it to him if only because it was where she chose to have her children.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “She…” you tried to ask, but the words didn’t sound right. It sounded too insensitive to even try. 

“It was the one place that reminded her of my father that had been left untainted by the war,” he said. “I hated this place for so long because it felt like it took her from me. As I grew older, I began to appreciate that at least, through the pain, she felt some amount of peace.” He glanced at you as if to see your reaction. “I hope to make some better memories here with you. If that is alright.”

You swallowed. Oh, why did he have to be so sweet? To share his pain with you, to be so vulnerable…Fuck. Did he do this just so he could confuse your thoughts even more? Or was he being genuine? “I can try,” you offered. 

The corner of Snow’s mouth quirked up. You wanted to kiss it. “Thank you, petal. That is all that I ask.”

But is it all that you will ever ask? you wanted to say. What if you disappointed him? What if you could not provide him with the love he wanted from you? What happens then? 

Instead, you offered a small smile. “Can we go inside? I’m quite hungry after our journey.”

Coriolanus smiled, too, and led you in. It almost felt like you were being taken straight into the lion’s den. You pushed the thought from your mind. You told him you would try. Maybe you couldn’t make better memories for him here, but maybe you could try to understand him. Maybe, away from the Capitol, you could look between Coriolanus from the Academy and the Coryo you’ve come to know and find the true man laying inside. 

You reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. 

After lunch, Coriolanus allowed you your space. He gave you leave to pick which room you would like to stay in over the course of the your honeymoon, showed you where he would stay, and other points of interest in the cottage. Then he disappeared into his study, leaving you to do as you pleased. 

A part of you ached as he left. It had been what you wanted—distance to figure things out on your own. To determine how much you cared about Coriolanus without his presence influencing your thoughts. But you had so much time with him in recent weeks, had gotten to experience him so intimately, that for him to leave you be…It felt wrong. It felt like he took a part of you with him. You swallowed your self-inflicted hurt, though, took a book from the library, and retreated into the gardens. 

Still, as you sat among the grand rose bushes that seemed to follow the Snows wherever they go, you couldn’t focus on the pages. The words blurred together until they were unrecognizable. You found yourself glancing to the window to Coriolanus’s study, silently urging him to walk to it, to look out at you. He never came. 

What was wrong with you? 

You closed the book, not bothering to mark the page you were on. You hadn’t processed a single thing on the pages you flipped through. Hell, you weren’t even sure what it was you were trying to read. This was just a cheap attempt to push away your feelings, to not have to bother sorting through them. 

You retreated back into the cottage, setting the book aside on a table, before marching up to Coriolanus’s study. The door was open. Coriolanus’s back was to you as he gazed out the window. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles on the doorframe. He turned, his pale blue eyes wild with worry.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“You drive me mad. You make me ill every time I see you. I cannot tell if it’s because of the butterflies girls talk about or because you scare me. You do. Scare me, I mean.”

Coriolanus took a step toward you. “I scare you?” he repeated.

“Your anger terrifies me. I don’t think…I don’t think you would ever hurt me. But the idea of what you might do to someone who does…Coryo, I have never been more terrified than when you thought I was going to run away with Sejanus. I was sure you would have killed him where he stood.”

A frown settled on his face. He took another step. “I should have. You are everything to me. I won’t let anyone try to poison you against me.”

“I cannot for the life of me understand why. You could have anyone, Coryo. You could have someone who knows that they love you, who can say those words.”

“I don’t want anyone but you, petal.” He stepped closer. One more step, and he would be in front of you. Part of you wanted to shy away, to put distance between the two of you. Your feet remained firmly planted. 

“Why?” you begged. 

“Because I burn for you. You have burrowed yourself into my soul, if I should have one. Since we were fourteen, all I have wanted was you. All I have ever wanted was to be good enough for you. I made a name for myself for you, I became king for you. I will be any man you want me to be. Just give me the word.”

Your brows pinched together. “We only met when we were fourteen.”

Coriolanus closed the distance. “I fell in love with a girl who could look me right in the face and say I was wrong for thinking the opera useless, a gratuitous performance than something contributory to society. I did not come to love the opera that day, but rather the girl whose face lit up at every note. Who nearly rose out of her seat as if she might be sing too. I have loved you for a long time, petal. I fear I always will.”

He reached up, his hands cupping your face. You leaned into his palm, your eyes fluttering shut. “I will go to as many performances as you wish, petal. I will pretend I love every one. I will build you a thousand libraries. I will adopt a million cats. If you…If you tell me to beg for your love, I will get on my knees without a second thought. I will do anything, I will be anything, for you.”

“What if you tire of me?”

“I could never. The months I spent with the Peacekeepers, the years I spent climbing the social ladder, all I could think of was you and all of it would be worth it if I could hold you just once.”

“And when you learn that I am a far cry from the woman you think me to be?”

“Then I would love her, too. You are it for me, petal.”

You opened your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lips—how plush they were, how his tongue darted out to wet them, how they parted, ready to say more. Words never fell past them, though, for you stopped them right in their tracks. You kissed your Coryo until you were breathless. 

When you finally parted for air, you whispered, “I…think this is better than a love match.”

[targaryenluvs]

Holy shittt that capitol girl blurb??? That was something else 😵 can you pls make a part 2 of it but like a oneshot of it where he gets jealous of one of those lowly capitol people takling to us and he takes us to his room and then smutty smut happens??? Your dark!finn fics make me feral😩

oooh, i like your brain, captiol girl reader is a fav of mine! but ngl this gives off coryo vibes too.

i was listening to ride…

love you best,, coriolanus snow/finnick odair

can be read as either!!! no specifics i think

tw: kind angry sex, jealousy, choking, possessiveness, semi-public, implied short reader, size kink, humiliation, kinda guilt-tripping, degradation, mirror, flashback punishments, mentions of purposeful starvation, spanking, overstimulation, toys 👀 double pen, im so sorry i don’t know what possessed me

if there was one thing you knew about your partner it was his short temper when it came to you. obviously he didn’t show it all that often but you were one of the few people who could tell. whether it be by his grip on the champagne flute, the rigid posture, or, his unsettling smile. but it was obviously normal to everyone else, all they could think of was the fact that the legend himself was smiling their way.

he hated them in all honesty, but he wasn’t an idiot so he tolerated them.

but eventually every man breaks, and this time it was because of you.

an ugly, loud, grimy businessman had taken interest in you, his girl. he flashed his pearly whites your way every chance he got, brushing his hand by your waist in order to grab a drink, even has the audacity to actually touch you, bring the strap of your dress back up.

“sweetheart,” your partner beckoned you from up the stairs, your saving grace from the man. “come along now.” his grin was sinister and mischievous and you could only guess at what he was thinking of. excusing yourself from his side you made your way up the stairs, his eyes lingering on your behind. that man was lucky your boyfriend didn’t jam his fist in his face.

and before you knew it, the two of you were far from the party, on the third or fourth floor. “what are we doing here?” your voice was quiet, too focused on your surroundings rather than the man behind you, and how hungry he looked. turning to view him you were met with a hand around your throat. “what do you think you’re doing?” his one hand practically encircling your neck, your two hands pawed at his wrist to no avail.

“n—nothing.” you croaked out, watery eyes meeting his own dark irises, they seemed to be consumed with fire, and you knew your were bound to be burned. “are you trying to fuck with me? everyone here knows who you are here with but you’re acting like a whore, do you even know that man’s name?” you shook your head as a smirk made its way to his face, his voice was hot in your ear, “i think you need to be taught a lesson.”

he made you feel small in every way possible, whether it be guiding you through a crowd, or a hand on your hips moving you to the side. or, cornering you when you decided to be a brat, especially during the start of your ‘relationship.’

one of the most prominent examples being when you’d once refused to eat, besides a snack here and there and some water. the servants didn’t know what to do and your boyfriend hadn’t returned, busy with work. so when he did return and learned of your temper tantrum, he tied you down, taking orgasm after orgasm, one for each day you hadn’t eaten. it was the worst and best night of your life, your own ass was bruised and bloodied.

he’d struck you for every hour you refused.

he had his head between your legs, lips on your clit, licking it whilst two fingers pushed in and out, grazing just the right spot, making you arch your back and claw at the mirror. removing his fingers, his tongue traced your folds, saliva mixing in as he moved to your slit, and the inside of your walls. but it was never easy with your boyfriend, and he hated the fact that you looked so pretty. moans sweet as ever, hands pulling at his hair softly.

no, he liked you best at your worst.

so instead of letting you catch your breathe, he took off his tie and bound your wrists behind your back, your circulation practically cut off. you had nothing to grab, to hold, to ground yourself with, all you could do was sit and cry as he sucked your clit harshly, fingernails digging into your thighs as a warning.

stop moving.

again, horrible listener, so you thrashed around, lifting yourself up from against the mirror before being pushed back by him. your eyes were screwed shut as you heaved, “please, please i didn’t do anything!” his eyes shot up to look at your face in disbelief. “you did nothing?” he sneered, rising from in between your legs before his hand clutched your hair as you yelped.

“you want attention, that’s all you ever want. you have legs you could’ve walked away and come to me but you stood there, laughing at his jokes.” his fingers smooshed your face, he loved you best like this. messy hair, mascara smudged and lipstick smeared. for once you were unable to read him, you couldn’t tell if he was joking, mad or teasing. he got down on his knees, tapping your foot as you raised it, your panties removed as he stored it away in his pant pocket. your thighs were painted with arousal, sticky when you moved.

the click of the door opening sobered you up straight away, “what? why are you—” he shoved you infront of him, not even bothering to check if the coast was clear, he assumed there wouldn’t be anyone, you were floors above the party and the only people that would be around these disgustingly sensual rooms would be there for the reason he was. crimson red walls, plush velvet walls, a monstrosity in terms of a fashionable home, but comfortable.

you ended up in a random bedroom, also red. he shoved you onto the bed, shuffling through the drawers with intent. “where would it be?” he muttered to himself as he surveyed the room, his eyes landed on a closet door, promptly moving towards it.

you laid on the bed with your hands underneath you, at least the ceiling was white you thought. the heat between your legs was unbearable, but not left unattended for too long. he had a box in his hands, not too large but not small. “what is that?” you craned your neck to look, but he pulled out a blindfold.

“i want you to only cum when i tell you to, do you understand?” you groaned loudly, “oh come on are you kidding me? why the hell do i have to do that? so annoying—” the dildo penetrated your dripping pussy as you moaned out, finally.

he couldn’t do everything he would have wanted to whilst still at the event but he could at least satisfy himself. he slid in and out with ease, unrelenting pace as you cried out, “don't stop, please don't stop!" he loved you best like this, crying on his fat cock splitting you open.

“you like that? yeah you do.” he grinned as you clutched the sheets underneath you, he pushed it deeper, before taking it out. “please, don’t stop!” you screamed out, the anticipation of what he’d do was exciting, unable to see him. his finger simultaneously traced around your ass, using your slick he smeared it around.

“you want more? you want my cock in you too?” you nodded vehemently, “oh god yes! yes!” he pulled it out before flipping you over and propping you on all fours. he was nice enough to be sweet, cooing and praising you for how good you were being. “you’ll be good for me won’t you? i’ll take your bind off.” thank god, “yes, i’ll be so good, promise.” it felt so good to move them around again. the thing about your boyfriend was that he never made anything easy when it came to sex.

“i want you to fuck yourself.”

his hand on your hips and your own pressed against the headboard. “that's it, fucking take it!" he grunted as he thrust into you, “yeah, you wanna scream? confirm what they know?” you could barely keep your own eyes open let alone respond but of course he would never let that be. you’d never experienced something so euphoric yet punishing. you felt as if you’d explode. he’d gotten tired of how slow you were being with your pussy so he was kind enough to multitask.

but listening wasn’t exactly your strong suit and it didn’t matter how harsh he gripped your hips or how he slammed into both holes, you’d still try and get away. “s’too much, please.” your head rested on the bed, you were exhausted.

“fuck, i’m so close!”

“you’re lucky i’m letting you after the shit you— you pulled.” his words didn’t hurt, your pussy only clenched further, “i can feel you, in both holes.” your forehead pressed against his, a gentle gesture, a reminder of your relationship. he grunted into your ear, thrusts slowing down, messier, closer.

he pulled it out of your ass as you moaned at the loss of contact, “messy girl, need two cocks in you? my little slut needs more?” you shook your head, “just you. just you.” you babbled, you felt so good. oversensitive and tired, which again he loved. he pulled almost all the way out, pressing the fake cock to your lips, “suck it, you’re too noisy baby, you want someone to find you like this? i didn’t lock the door.”

his smirk made you dizzy, he made you dizzy. he took a second to admire you, splayed out on the bed now, sucking both of your juices off it. he slammed back in making you whimper and teary-eyed. soon enough reaching his high as well as your own as you clutched onto his shoulders for dear life, “mmm!” he grunted, “fuck, you’re too good, take it the whole way baby, if you’re— if you’re gonna suck it then take it all.” he found his release with you, his hot cum spurting into your womb.

“next time, you stay by me. or don’t, i’ll fuck you even harder next time.”

[snowsinterlude]

A/N: hi anon!! im so sorry for letting you waiting. i swear it wasnt my intention. im so glad you liked my fics!! im sorry for it but it seems like i posted the unfinished version of what i was trying to do here, and instead of putting on drafts it was released. sorry! it is probably small too but is just because im too tired tday,, sorry ;(

c.w: male masturbation, reader ignoring incel coryo, kissing.

he had tried his best today to get your attention. he was definitely begging for it. begging for you. for the look of your eyes on his.

"god, you look like a bitch with this skirt" he said, on the first class you both had together.

then again, on lunch. "well, look at you. what are you doing? tweeting about how dumb you are?" he asked, and again, he didn't get an answer while you typed on the phone.

then, at the library, when he found you trying to reach for a book, he decided to help you, with him being taller than you. and you didn't even looked into his eyes.

didn't even opened your mouth to say thank you.

"god, y/n, stop being such a bitch. you know this silence treatment won't lead to anything." he said, and finally he had a sight of your eyes, for fucks sake.

he watched as you approached him, your eyes boring into his, your scent filling his nostrils. and he hated himself for making you give him attention, if you were gonna look at him like that it was best for you to keep ignoring him.

"what is it, snow? do you have something to say?" you asked, and you kept approaching him. too much.

too close.

how did you manage to have him sandwiched between you and the wall behind him?

"do you want something? a prize, for being such a mommy's boy? or the category you're searching for it other?" he opened his mouth to answer you, but you didn’t allow it. "we both know what you want, snow. we both know what you're bothering me for."

your hand met his waist under his uniform shirt, nails scratching down his hips as you put yourself on the tip of your toes, giving him a kiss. a filthy kiss that matched with him. your tongue met his, your lips met his, and-

"there it is. leave me alone now." you said, getting away from him as you walked your way to the table of your assignment group.

you left coriolanus behind, and he could notice how tight his pants felt all of a sudden, how his dick was twitching against the fabric and-

wait- did he just...

fuck.

🍒

with his hand pumping his cock violently, his eyes closed as he frowned at the memory of your lips on his, he violently kept going.

the thought of your lips on his. the slam of it as you passed your tongue through his lips, the taste of your tongue touching his, the way you scratched his waist-

"fuck."

he hated you. truly.

it didn't matter that it was the fourth time he came to the same thought of how you would feel on his dick, he still hated you.

he still hated you. that's what he told himself as his thumb softly rubbed on the tip of his dick.

[xob1tchs]

. • ° ❄️ ✧༺ 17+ smut below cut!

coriolanus snow who is extremely proud, and far too ashamed of your family’s status to ever be seen with you outside the four walls of your university dorm room. that fact alone — that your family had to depend on the scholarship that comes with having to work and live on campus, was enough for him to dismiss any idea of you outside the sheets.

what nobody knows about coriolanus snow though? that he doesn’t sport the same brooding attitude when you’re pressed together, panting and sweaty, bed creaking with the force of his hips, fucking into you with what you can only describe as a need. you know he needs this, and so this is enough.

the way his hair, once perfectly formed with gel, falls across his forehead, and his swollen lips part in a euphoric whine – huffing against your mouth, teasing the thought of a kiss, lips passing gently as you speak “feels so fucking good coryo” your words are saccharine, easing his thrumming mind into a state that’s reserved only for moments like this.

teetering on the edge of that release that he’s always chasing, that you always give him “im gonna cum” coriolanus rasps, pressing his forehead to yours as his hips slow to a deep stroke, rolling smoothly, cock brushing deep inside you; making you squirm under his body, but trapped by strong arms on either side of your head.

you hum, fingers ghosting up the expanse of his muscled back, over the scars on his shoulders and over the shaven hair at the nape of his neck until they tangle in the longer stands, tugging the silky white hair at the root, smile tugging at the corner of your mouth when he groans lowly in satisfaction “don’t stop, m’so close”

he doesn’t make any move to halt, if anything speeding back up at your confession, always so determined in every aspect of his life – even in bed.

the headboard of your bed makes a gentle thump against the wall, thankfully mostly muffled due to the pillow tucked between them, but the squeak of the floorboards under the creaking metal is enough to keep you from getting louder; another noise complaint will surely be filed.

“i want you to cum baby, wanna feel you” coriolanus’s words pull the trigger to the gun in your mind, thoughts exlpoding, the feeling of release washing over you from where your toes curl to where your shoulders tense, crying into his palm when he slaps it over your mouth, fangs gently digging into the edge of his palm, spit falling from your lips down his wrist and onto your chest, mixing with your sweat, making a mess.

coriolanus is quick to follow, stifling a moan of his own as he quickly pulls out, thick ropes of cum painting your abdomen, smearing across his own skin when his hips falter and his frame nearly crushes your own.

smiling into his scalp as he eases into your embrace, you know that this is definitely not; and will never be enough.

. • ° ❄️ ✧༺ 17+ severely unedited!

[fictionalihavebrainrot]

Coriolanus snow x victor!reader (like when he’s starting to be important to the running of the games) and she has pure Stockholm syndrome. He implements the “if a victor is desirable…” rule for the first time and watches over her as she “performs” but he still insists on showing her who she truly belongs to!

Decided to make this a blurb cause im not doin full stories <3

President Coriolanus Snow he was exactly what he wanted to be. Of course he was he always got what he wanted. He wanted you so he had you the first lady of Panem even when he went crazy you were there by his side. Was it absoultly mental of you to do so? Yes thats exactly why it worked. When Coryo annonced that if a victor was desireable enough they were to be used in any way to make money it was almost if he forgot what his darling first lady was.

A victor. You had won the tweleth annual hunger games that is how Snow knew you in the first place. He didn't forget about the fact you were a victor it was all according to his plan. He had set up a "meeting" between you and some pink haired man from the capitol. You were not stupid by anymeans you knew what he meant.

Prepared to do whatever he wanted to make him happy to any extent. When you went into the room the pink haired man was grinning almost sinisterly at you. A protective hand rested on your back. Coryo was pushing you towards the man. So you inched closer. As the pink haired man grabbed your arms to pull you into him you squeaked uncomfortbly.

Thats when your lover finally had something to say. "Stop it" was all he said. The pink haired man let you go and you leaned back into the wall. "Leave" and so the man did. He thought he could do it. He thought he could sell you off to some rando for an amazing some of money. But seeing the man grab at you made him ill. You were supposed to be only for him. You were only for him so why would he share. He gently kissed your forehead and gave a weak apology.

Sorry if this isnt how you wanted it to go i just thing Coryo is way way way to possesive for that but yk i tried

requests are open for blurbs and headcannons <3

[rianavi]

snow w a breeding kink!!!

ayy you get it!! sorry it took me long to respond im not used to checking my inbox. listened to freak by lana del rey while writing this!

coriolanus is rutting into you like its his will to live, his thrusts are hard and calculated, and you know you’ve never felt anything like it.

his senses are amplified, he can smell your juices as they seep out of you. he can hear your whines and incoherent mumbles.

you can’t form a sentence, your brain mush as he fucks you stupid on his cock.

he smirks lazily, his own head clouded by the hazy feeling of your walls clenching tightly around him.

he’s rough but he makes sure your head is propped up above a pillow and your hands have something to grip onto - his biceps -.

he likes the way it stings, like standing to close to a fire, or turning the tap on too hot before washing your hands.

there will for sure be marks next morning but he doesn’t mind.

at this point he doesn’t mind anything you do, as long as you’re tits keep bouncing with every thrust of his hips.

he reaches out slowly. grasping at the soft plushy skin that dangles in front of him like he’s in some sort of hypnosis.

the feeling of his rough and big hands against your soft glowy skin sparks something in him.

he imagines the way they’ll fill up a tank top perfectly, the way they sit perfectly while you cook or clean or do any normal house activities.

then he imagines what it would be like with a baby around.

how your after-birth body would leave your tits swelled and nipples a dark red.

how you would look with a baby in arms. hands cradled around its head.

his baby.

his very own creation.

something as perfect as you.

he can’t help it, the idea of your belly full of his own. his own dna, his own blood.

it has him humping against you faster than ever.

he’s desperate, so much so that he can’t hold in the little whimpers and whines that fall out of from his parted lips.

the sound of skin against skin, the smell of your absolutely abused cunt, the feeling of your ankles wrapped around his hips, the taste of blood on this tongue as he bites down.

it all has him cumming into you, hot and thick.

and the feeling of him shooting inside of you has you squirting all over him, liquid manages its way out of you and he looks down.

curses fall from his lips as he fucks into you again, not letting any of his cum spill out of you.

“you’re gonna take it.” he grunts out as he pushes against your cervix, wiping the tears that pool in your eyes.

[m0chaminx]

Sejanus Plinth | We Hate you

*•.¸♡Request: could you maybe do prompt 44 with sejanus plinth please? it’s seems soooo angsty.

*•.¸♡Prompts:  "You know we all hate you right?" (since writing this my prompt list has changed so check it out)

*•.¸♡Warnings: Angst, cannon death, this does not have a happy ending-im not paying for your therapy, creepy Coriolanus

*•.¸♡Paring: Sejanus Plinth x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: Hate; he heard it everyday. Hate; it was a joke. Hate; it was too late to apologise.

Or

Hate had consumed Sejanus’s life, and he thought you could never say it; until you did.

*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k

You all know we hate you right?

He heard those words a million different ways, a million different times. It used to hurt, like a knife cutting his skin every time someone wanted to make it known he was different, he was district. Very few had yet to say it, you were one of them. He spent his lunch hours with you, partnering with you on projects and spending as much time with you as possible.

You were the one person in this privileged, closed minded, haunting place that saw Sejanus as something more than just district. He was just a boy who had grown up with a shitty life, in a shitty place with shitty people and yet you sat with him everyday, reminding him that you saw him as something more.

He spent his life being hated and you would spend your life showing him he could be loved.

You sat across from him on his bed, his bedroom door closed and the window cracked open. His house was so perfectly precise in how it was decorated, perfect painting that matched the walls, that matched the kitchen that matched the furniture, so on and on. But Sejanus’s room was the one place that was in a slight disarray, clothes sticking out from draws, crooked decor and not a single colour matched the one next to it. But it was still rich, it was the capitol.

Sejanus hadn’t expected to spend his afternoon like this, he should have been studying, keeping up his appearance of the rich capital boy that was expected of him, but no. He sat with you, passing back and forth a hand rolled joint. It was not what he expected of you, such a rebellious nature to what the capitol expected, but maybe that’s why you saw him as human.

The smoke fell from your lips, lifting through the room before getting caught in the slight draft out the window. You looked up at him, his brown eyes glazed over as he stared at you. “What’s on your mind Sej?” Your voice was soft, almost airy as you passed the joint to him.

“You surprise me is all,” was his answer. He carefully took the cigarette, bringing it to his lips. 

You hummed and leant back on your hands, staring out at the slowly clouding sky. “How so Sejanus?”

He pondered for a moment. You did surprise him, your unnatural almost rebellious behaviour to the capital's minor rules so jarring to his mind. But you knew that. Hell, you were sitting here smoking with him. He shrugged softly, taking a small drag from the joint before handing it out to you. “I’m not so sure, you just do.”

You took the cigarette back, your eyes drifting back out the window. “It looks like a storm is coming.”

You all know we hate you right?

The words slipped past your lips before you could catch yourself. “We. We hate you.” It was the word that had struck so deep within him he couldn’t handle it. His hand was still raw from the chair across the room, the metal hinges had nicked his skin and cut his palm. He wiped the blood on his trousers, though his palm stung with pain, your words had numbed his heart in a moment.

You had chased him outside after his outburst, he was still seething with anger and pain when you had tried to calm him. Your need to help him left him yelling at you and in a split second throught the words passed your lips. “You all know we hate you right? What is yelling going to do?” You were meant to say they, because in truth you were right, they did hate him, what was yelling going to do. But the days with your tribute, convincing the capitol you were different from the district boy you were stuck with that your words had become real.

Yes, you were capital. Yes, he was district. But Sejanus was your friend and you had tossed it all aside in a moment you coundt take back or explain. You felt so guilty and Sejanus was filled with pain.

“I thought you were different.” They were his first words after he composed himself. “But you’re just like the rest of them.” He had turned on his heel to leave and tried to chase him, calling you were sorry, that you could explain. Could you though?

Just before your hand reached his, your nails grazing his jacket sleeve, a peacemaker had grabbed your arm and spun you to face him. “You’re not allowed to leave until your tribute dies.”

“Please! I just need a moment-”

“Now!”

“Sejanus-!” You spun to Sejanus but he had disappeared, too far from your sight to even make his figure out in the mist. Your hands moved to fist your hair, your knuckles changing colour as you gripped the roots of your hair so tight. “Fuck…” The Peacemaker regained his grip and pulled you back towards the door. 

After everything you had promised yourself, promised Sejanus, one stupid moment with one stupid word had destroyed that in an instance.

You all know we hate you right?

They were the words you never fathomed would affect him this much. But how couldn't they? You were studying in the courtyard when Coriolanus Snow made his way towards you. You had heard the news of Sejanus’s hanging in 12, everyone had but seeing the last person that had seen him alive made everything so much worse.

You closed your book, staring up at the snow boy. He had changed so quickly in just a few weeks. His once curled hair had been slicked to one side, and the so strictly formal dark red suit and long coat but you squirm. He looked so proper, that if you spoke a word against him he would have you killed, but he was your peer, and even younger than you in age. But you sat, still as a statute as you waited for the Snow boy to speak. 

When he did, the smile gracing his face was sickly sweet, “It’s good to see you.”

“And you as well, Snow,” You tried to match his smile, but the uncertainty of this new Coriolanus Snow had made your stomach twist. 

His smile grew as though he could sense your discomfort. He removed his hands from his pocket and sat on the bench beside you. “Is something bothering you?”

“Aside from the obvious?”

He chuckled darkly and slid closer, “I’m going to be spending quite some time at the Plinth house. I have since become heir to the Plinth fortune. I assume I shall see you around.”

Heir to the Plinth fortune? You turned your head, stomach twisting in realisation. Snow had intended to replace Sejanus as if he hadn't existed, and he indented to take you with him.

ﾟ°☆Page navigation

[drunkinchicago]

coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird

link: chapter 1, link: chapter 2, link: chapter 3

Chapter 4: im looking forward to joining you, finally

"thought he had it all before they called his bluff

found out that his skin just wasn't thick enough

wanted to go back to how it was before

thought he lost everything

then he lost a whole lot more"

Nine Inch Nails, “I’m Looking Forward to Joining You, Finally”

Strabo Plinth rang for Coriolanus late the next evening. This was a common dance, one made convenient by the Plinths purchasing the apartment directly below the penthouse. It was an unspoken rule that Coriolanus was welcome to meals there, but he used the excuse of his studies or commitments to Gaul to avoid spending exorbitant time around Ma. Coriolanus couldn’t look at her without hearing her name on Sejanus’ dying lips, the last thing he’d said, the flock of mockingjays adopting his screams. It was that haunting image that awaited Coriolanus on the few occasions he was able to recall what he’d been dreaming about. These same excuses did not extend to Strabo’s post dinner indulgences of whiskey. When he called, Coriolanus answered.

Strabo’s study was kept excessively cold even in the winter. Coriolanus had learned to bring his mink coat on their visits even though Strabo didn’t wear a jacket himself. Coriolanus imagined this to be a consequence of the alcohol keeping Strabo warm, and declined the offers of his own beverage due to the fear of a drunk confessional. Tonight, though, Coriolanus decided he would accept one - just one. He was celebrating.

“Coriolanus,” Strabo acknowledged him with a nod, already pouring a second glass of whiskey over a singular square ice cube. “Did the help greet you kindly?”

“Always,” Coriolanus responded gruffly, avoiding the portrait of Sejanus that hung on the left wall. He slid into the black palisander lounge chair that he’d associated as being his without looking at anything aside from Strabo or the cut pile tiger-adorned carpet.

“And how is your help?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“Good to hear, good to hear.”

For several beats the only sound in the study was that of ice clinking against glass. Coriolanus wondered what Strabo wanted to discuss tonight. They talked about a variety of things - war strategies, where investments were being made in the Capitol, Coriolanus’ work with Dr. Gaul. He nor Strabo initiated conversation concerning Sejanus. The most the topic had been indulged was only in passing, when Coriolanus reminisced on stories from his Academy days that Sejanus had been there for. When Coriolanus mentioned his ‘best friend’s’ name, he made an intentional effort to stammer, willing tears into his eyes. It was an emotionally exhausting performance that he avoided at any opportunity, but Strabo appreciated it. Strabo appreciated any time at all with the future of the Capitol, a dashing student with innovative ideas that had and would be implemented in the Games - a feat few teenagers could boast. Coriolanus could tell that Strabo was intoxicated by his perceived commitment to the Capitol and the rich history that the name Snow carried. It’s not going to rub off on you, Coriolanus thought selfishly and viciously. All that I am, you can’t be. You’re still District.

“Do you want a drink?” Strabo offered politely, holding a second glass toward Coriolanus as he always did, inviting and encouraging. For once, Coriolanus said yes. Strabo couldn’t hide his surprise as he poured the liquor generously, chucking to himself.

“In the mood, you could say,” Coriolanus forced a laugh as well, hoping to come off as charming. Of course he did.

“Well, cheers to the reason you are!” Strabo’s voice adopted an unusually excited tone, causing Coriolanus to cock his head like a disoriented dog.

“What do you mean?” He clinked his glass with Strabo’s anyway, downing half of the whiskey in one sip to slow his heart rate.

“Dr. Gaul called me.”

Coriolanus’ prior action had been for nothing. His chest cavity felt on the brink of explosion, his body reverberating with want. “Is it Lucy Gray? Lucy Gray? Have they found her? Is she okay?”

Now it was Strabo’s turn to appear confused. “No, no, not yet. It hasn’t been long that they’ve been searching, Coriolanus.”

So Strabo did know about the favor.

“Then what did she call for?” Coriolanus couldn’t hide the disgust in his response, disappointment causing him to spit the words out.

Strabo was silent, studying the expression on Coriolanus’ face, noticing how the younger man was gripping the glass in his hand until his fingers turned white. Strabo began to nod before he responded, impressed but unnerved. “So it is real, then.”

“Is what?”

“Your feelings for that poor thing. I thought it was Game strategy, Dr. Gaul assumed it to be some kind of wish fulfillment. You tell me.”

Coriolanus was perturbed by this interaction. He’d thought of Lucy Gray constantly, but hadn’t discussed it with others, keeping her as his own private burden, the thorn in his side that he craved the feeling of. Now, she seemed to be all anyone wanted to talk about. Dr. Gaul and Strabo Plinth, his simultaneous lifelines to success, probing him about his songbird. He didn’t want to answer their questions about her. He just wanted her there, physical and palpable. What else needed to be rationalized? He ignored the request, instead asking his own questions. “What did Dr. Gaul need you for?”

Strabo knew not to push. “She wanted to inform me of your request and get my approval on the military quotas necessary for such a headhunt.”

“Excuse you, this is not a headhunt,” Coriolanus interrupted, laughing as though he was being played with. Was this a joke? “They are not to kill her. I don’t even want them to touch her, if possible.”

“It was an inappropriate use of the term, but you knew what I meant, didn’t you? Don’t get smart.”

This was not Coriolanus’ first, and far from last, time being verbally reprimanded by Strabo. Coriolanus resented being put down by him, but had become competent in remaining stone faced, accepting the criticism like the reliant beggar he was sure Strabo saw him to be. Strabo liked Coriolanus plenty, and they both knew that. But Strabo would not allow Coriolanus to speak above him. They both knew that too. Coriolanus looked forward to the day that this was no longer a choice. Independence was the only idea that felt as intoxicating as Lucy Gray. The notion of being financially autonomous made Coriolanus’ head spin. How much power could he have? He could hardly stand waiting for it.

“Did you approve of them? The military quotas?”

Strabo nodded. “I did, yes. But we have to discuss some… factors of this arrangement.”

Coriolanus set his condensating glass on the desk, finished with it. He wanted nothing more to do with it, suddenly being reminded of the smell on his father’s breath as he hit young Coriolanus, calling him weak. “In transparency, I’m not entirely sure of the terms of the arrangement myself. I just requested that she be brought to me.”

“To do what with?”

Coriolanus blinked in return. Did it matter? “Forgive me for asking this, but is there a problem with what I've asked for?”

“Let’s be candid, if we can be.”

“Sure.”

“Do you truly think that she can make a life here?”

God , the moral consciousness, ebbing its way in, the need to iron out every detail. I want it, Coriolanus reminded himself. I want it and that’s reason enough. “She and I will determine that.” He tried to sound authoritative as he said it. It’s just us, me and you.

Strabo considered Coriolanus’ words, still appearing concerned. Coriolanus was beginning to find the dim lighting of the study suffocating. He didn’t want to be there anymore. “I’m happy for you, Coriolanus. I am. I want you to have your way with her. I… I have a different plan for you in the long term, that’s all. Have your goals changed?”

This was the cost of a dollar, Coriolanus realized - entitlement to one’s life. He silently cursed his poorness, his need to rely on others. His father was right. He was weak. A poor excuse for a Snow, anyway, being spoon fed judgment from a District man. “My goal is to serve Panem as President,” Coriolanus repeated monotonously, a sentence he’d uttered countless times.

“Part of a successful candidacy is, er, how do I say… It’s comprehensive, Coriolanus. You could have a remarkable run as a Gamemaker, serve the Senate, and still not become President for a variety of reasons. You need to be building as many strong relations in the Capitol as possible, and they need to be deep connections.”

“By what means?” Coriolanus leaned forward, daring Strabo to say what he assumed the man was insinuating.

“Marriage.”

Coriolanus couldn’t control his laughter, throwing his head back as he leaned into the chair. "Your wife is District.” His voice strained at the pressure of his amusement, unable to stop even after Strabo’s face grew red.

“And I’m not President!” Strabo yelled, slamming his fist against his desk so harshly that a book resting on one side fell to the floor.

“Did you expect to be?” Coriolanus edged a taunting tone into his voice, made confident by the audacity of this Plinth to assume right of opinion over Coriolanus’ marriage, as if that was even the primary concern at his age, as if that’s what he spent his hours mulling over.

“Ruin your own opportunities,” Strabo responded sharply. “I have and will continue to assist you, but I cannot and will not force it down your throat.”

“Please enlighten me as to why you believe I cannot be President if I spend time with Lucy Gray Baird.”

“Spend time,” Strabo scoffed. “You’re absolutely taken with her. How you reacted to the prospect of her being found… My negotiations with the Cardews are out the window, is all.”

The embarrassment of being perceived was almost as crushing as the revelation that Strabo had been negotiating Coriolanus’ own hand with wealthier families in the Capitol, alluding to the arrangement that Coriolanus had thought was private. What else would Livia Cardew’s father assume? Why else would Strabo Plinth have any stake in offering Coriolanus up like cattle? So it was known, then, that Coriolanus was taking money from Strabo like a servant.

Livia Cardew, his pinch-faced classmate. She had blonde hair the color of straw and wore clothes too tight for her, desperate to appear fuckable and special. She wasn’t anything but rich, and Coriolanus had already known that she wanted him. At several social occasions she’d stumbled into his chest, drunk and needy, her lips freshly glossed. He avoided touching her, moving away as quickly as she’d come, her nose wrinkling insecurely as he did. Coriolanus’ male peers couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t sleep with her or any of the other Capitol girls throwing themselves at him. Even Clemensia Dovecote, his former collaborator at the Academy, had expressed interest in the library just two weeks ago, running her hand up and down his thigh as they compared notes. Aside from his physical beauty, Coriolanus was seen as successful and equally intriguing, having survived a bout of District life and returned only wiser and stronger. He wasn’t concerned with the concept of a First Lady and found it deeply unattractive that a girl would pursue him solely for such a prospect. In fact, the notion alone further solidified Coriolanus’ determination to deny himself to them. Maybe he’d lead them on, or her, that stupid Livia, just to remind them that they would not have him. He wanted her to fantasize about what he could do to her, about his long blonde curls falling over his eyebrows, his full lips, his blue eyes. But a fantasy is all she would get. He would not give her the pleasure he reserved for Lucy Gray.

Coriolanus stood, feeling dizzy and done with the conversation. He didn’t want to discuss this any longer, already anxious at the insinuation that the object of his desire could compromise his rightful presidency. Wasn’t that the appeal in being President of Panem anyway? Getting everything you wanted? What else was such a title for?

“Thank you for your time,” he stated, brushing his hair back with a shaking hand. “Tell Mr. Cardew to come to me himself if he wants to bid on me. Have faith in me, Strabo, won’t you? Do you not?”

Strabo shook his head disapprovingly, pouring another whiskey as Coriolanus made his way out of the study. From behind him, Coriolanus heard only one empty response: “Tell Lucy Gray I said hello.”

-

Coriolanus awoke three days later to a different kind of call, his school books scattered across his bed and his shoes still on. He stumbled to the phone, eyes blurring. The only light in the room was a candle he’d accidentally left on, the wax almost entirely spent at the hands of endless burning.

His voice was thick with sleep as he murmured into the receiver, “Lucy Gray?”

A male voice barked back at him, rambling off paragraphs. In his tire, Coriolanus could only catch half of what the man was saying: “On the outskirts of District 13 territory… Scattered belongings, knew it was her by a dress hanging on a makeshift drawing line…”

“Her?” Coriolanus whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He rarely spoke this softly anymore. It reminded him of how he talked to her once, leaning toward her cage, making her sweet promises. “You have my Lucy Gray?”

“She’s fairly battered and starved, sir.”

“So feed her.”

“We are giving her what we can, sir. We are expected to arrive at the Capitol sometime tomorrow.”

“When?” Coriolanus was awake now, his vision clearing to take in the details of his bedroom, the space she’d soon come to know well.

“As fast as we can, sir.”

“Good, that’s right. As fast as you can.”

[sspextkr]

TW: choking! (If you’re uncomfortable you can totally delete this ask)

Somewhen along the past week, I acquired a fondness for making Sejanus choke Coryo. I was writing my day 3 entry for snowjanus week and it just happened. I don’t understand why, considering I got an ick from a character (from a different fandom) I used to be obsessed with after he choked his spouse!😭

if im going along with my toxic!sej au then yeah totally. i'd even argue that a small part of coriolanus enjoys it because that man has a choking kink let's be fucking for real.

content warning for physical abuse.

probably caused by the heat of the moment or whatever but sejanus would have enough and grab coriolanus by his throat, slamming him against the wall. "watch your fucking mouth around me, y'hear?"

coriolanus was left breathless for a moment, eyes wide with shock as he gazed up at his lover. "s-sej.."

"i said," he tightened his grip. coriolanus' eyes widened even further, pale hands pawing desperately at the ones around his throat. "watch your fucking mouth around me."

"o-okay, okay! please, let me go-"

"i didn't hear an apology."

"i'm sorry! please-!"

sejanus let him drop the ground after a moment. "don't make this mistake again.

[snowisfallen]

Walls Could Talk

A shitty late night drabble about Coriolanus and Abigail and their toxic relationship inspired by the lyrics of Walls Could Talk by Halsey :)

warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of a physical fight,

PSA:yall in all seriousness, if ur partner lays a hand on you thats not okay ever, dont let toxic hot fictional blonde men convince u otherwise pls

A/N: uh if yall hate this or think its shitty im sorry :(

Been about three days and I'm comin' back I'm about four minutes from a heart attack And I think you make me a maniac But you don't know, oh

It had been three days since Abigail’s last exchange with Coriolanus Snow. a dangerous dance between passion and turbulence, left her teetering on the edge of emotional chaos. The toxic nature of their connection manifested in frequent conflicts, transforming arguments into battlegrounds where the lines between love and frustration blurred. The prolonged silence between their fights heightened her sense of unease, amplifying the feeling of insanity and stirring a storm of doubt within. But it had been three days, she missed his touch, and he had said sorry. So she came back to him even though she felt crazy for forgiving so easily.

Two years and we in between But we both been here since we 17

This relationship had been on and off for two years now, and right now she wasn't quite sure where they stood. Were they together again, were they not together again? She was sure that they were together but she knew she shouldn't just assume. They had been together since they were 17, she couldn't imagine life without him, even if it meant she had to put up with things she would never dare mention out loud to her friends.

Here we go, fist fight in a limousine But they don't know

The atmosphere inside the limousine took an unexpected turn when Abigail realized Coriolanus was already drunk. Tensions escalated when she confronted him, and what began as a disagreement morphed into a heated confrontation, which then turned into a tumultuous fistfight. The confined space of the luxurious vehicle intensified the emotional storm, with emotions reaching a boiling point. Bruised and emotionally drained, they arrived at the party, and before exiting the limousine, they both straightened up and put smiles on their faces, pretending the past 10 minutes hadn’t happened as they walked into the party, acting like the perfect couple that everyone thought they were.

And we both hope there's something But we bo-both keep fronting And it's a closed discussion

It was unspoken between the two of them that the relationship should have ended long ago, yet they couldn't help but hold on to a love that had already expired. It was an undiscussed topic, whether they should finally call it quits or not, Both continuing to pretend that this tumultuous relationship wasn't hurting them. 

And I'm thinking, "Damn, if these walls could talk" Well, they'd be like "Shit is crazy, right?" I ain't your baby no more

As she navigated the charade at the party, she couldn't shake the weight of the truth lingering in the walls of the limousine. If those walls could talk, they would unveil the heartbreaking narrative etched into their fabric—the whispers of passionate arguments, the echoes of painful turmoil, and the silent witness to a relationship veering into the realm of the inexplicable. In those moments of pretend normalcy, Abigail was acutely aware that the walls, had they possessed a voice, would have screamed the undeniable truth: that the version of love she clung to was fading, and the person she once knew as hers was slipping away. The limousine, a silent witness to their private struggles, seemed to embody the emotional distance that had grown between them. The unspoken revelation echoed in her mind, painting a stark picture of a relationship that had become more a theater of chaos than a sanctuary of love. She called it off that night.

Been about two weeks since you went away I'm about halfway through a Cabernet There I go, I'm wastin' a Saturday Sittin' at home

Two weeks after the breakup, Abigail found herself immersed in solitude, halfway through a bottle of Cabernet, as she spent her Saturday evening at home. The echoes of the past lingered in the air, and the quietude of her surroundings mirrored the emotional stillness within. She grappled with the residual emotions of the breakup, contemplating the significance of the choices made. Saturday, once a canvas for shared moments, now became a canvas for self-reflection, a necessary pause in the narrative of a relationship that had both shaped and tested her resilience.

Told my new roommate not to let you in But you're so damn good with a bobby pin Now you gon' play me like a violin Hittin' these notes

Abigail warned her new roommate against letting Coriolanus in, going so far as to even change the locks but her attempt was thwarted as he skillfully picked the lock with a bobby pin and infiltrated her space. In the face of his unexpected appearance, he began on a desperate plea, apologizing profusely and weaving a narrative that resonated with her vulnerabilities. His words, a carefully crafted symphony of remorse and promises, struck a chord that resonated with Abigail's yearning for resolution and connection. Despite her initial resolve, Coriolanus managed to utter the right words, tapping into the emotional undercurrents that still bound them. In a moment of vulnerability, she found herself swayed, uttering a hesitant "yes" that, for a fleeting moment, seemed to hold the promise of a renewed chapter, even as the shadows of their turbulent history loomed in the background.

And we both hope there's something But we bo-both keep fronting And it's a closed discussion And I'm thinking, "Damn, if these walls could talk" Well, they'd be like "Shit is crazy, right?" 

As they attempted one last time to rekindle the relationship, they engaged in a subtle game of emotional concealment, each afraid to expose the depth of their feelings. The subject of their connection remained a closed discussion, unspoken but palpable in the air between them. As they navigated this fragile moment, Abigail couldn't help but ponder the profound insights the walls of her space might share if they could speak. The unspoken truths, the untold desires, and the echoes of their shared history reverberated within the confines of the room, creating an unspoken tension that lingered like a silent conversation, waiting for the right moment to be unveiled. She couldn't escape the unspoken messages she imagined the walls would convey. If only they could talk, they might whisper a stark truth she was hesitant to fully embrace – "That ain't your baby no more." The walls, silent witnesses to the tumultuous journey of her relationship with Coriolanus, seemed to echo the sentiment that the connection, once so intimately entwined, had now slipped through her grasp. The phrase lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the transformative power of time and the irreversible changes that had reshaped the contours of their shared history. In the quietude of her thoughts, Abigail grappled with the weight of those unsaid words, questioning the nature of her evolving relationship and the path she was reluctantly navigating.

I ain't your baby no more  Hey! No more I ain't your baby no more

Abigail arrived at a poignant realization that resonated with the unspoken truths hanging in the air. No more, he wasn't hers anymore. The weight of that acknowledgment settled in her heart, carrying the bittersweet resonance of letting go. The walls, if they could articulate her sentiments, would echo the profound shift in the dynamics of their connection. In that moment of clarity, Abigail confronted the stark reality that the ties binding them had frayed irreversibly. The words lingered in her thoughts, a sobering admission that marked the beginning of a new chapter—a chapter where she grappled with the echoes of what once was, while navigating the uncharted territory of a future without him as hers.

[ladyaislinn-dark]

Deutsche Zitate

"Ich esse keinen Kaugummi und auch keine Schokolade, in meinen Kaffee gebe ich Molasse. Ich stimuliere mein Haar nach einem Rezept von Anthony Perkins. Mein Schönheitstipp: legen Sie nach langen Nächten warme, feuchte Teebeutel auf die Augen. Rauchen tu ich seit 30 Jahren nicht mehr.

Was Christopher Walken nicht mag: Autofahren, Pferde, Sonne, Schießeisen, Lärm, schlechten Geruch, Menschenansammlungen, Reisen (besonders im Flugzeug), Power lines in a vista.. (Starkstromleitungen in einer schönen Aussicht), Technik (er besitzt keinen Computer oder Handy und trägt keine Armbanduhr), Umweltverschmutzung, Smelling Houses ("Wenn ein Haus riecht, könnte ich nicht drinnen wohnen"); Neckties (Krawatten) oder andere Arten von strangulierenden Objekten; oft trägt er ausgelatschte Schuhe oder Hausanzüge, die ein anderer längst entsorgt hätte. Filme, in denen er reiten oder in den Dschungel muss.... *Ich mag keine Waffen. Ich würde nie auf einem Motorrad fahren. Ich werde mich auch nicht (mehr) auf ein lebendiges Pferd setzen, wenn es sich bewegt. Ich setze mich auf ein Pferd, aber sobald es einen Schritt macht, tu ich es nicht. In den Western-Filmen, die ich gedreht habe, setze ich mich rauf und ein anderer reitet davon [Anm: ?? Heaven's Gate? Milagro Beanfield War??] Viele sagen, dass Pferde sanftmütig sind, aber ich glaube es nicht; sie machen, was sie wollen. Und was die Waffen betrifft: Haben Sie je bemerkt, dass ich sie, falls ich welche benütze, ganz falsch halte? Ich ziele die meiste Zeit in die falsche Richtung. Wenn ich den Hahn ziehe, zucke ich fast zurück und schließe meine Augen. Manchmal drehe ich sogar den Kopf zur Seite...

Er mag: Schwarz, seine Arbeit (Filme machen), seine Frau, Tanzen, Kochen, Witze, seine Katzen, sein Zuhause, Vögel füttern vor einem Interview, tägliche Routine (um 20 Uhr ins Bett und um 6 Uhr morgens raus)...Henry, le chat noir on Youtube Wenn er nicht arbeitet, sitzt er zu Hause, liest Magazine, isst Eiscreme und schaut am liebsten Charlie Rose und Jerry Springer im Fernsehen. Muhammad Ali (von dem hat er sogar ein gerahmtes Autogramm auf einer Boxerhose) (..) 'Walken leads me into the study and points to the framed white boxer’s shorts on the wall. “Those are Muhammed Ali’s. Autographed. Taken off right after a fight. And never washed,” he adds proudly'.(from: All I want to do is feel the warmth, 1973) Frauen sollten sich benehmen dürfen wie Männer in Griechenland: Kartenspielen, Kaffee und Wein trinken den ganzen Tag über, und am Morgen ihre Kleider über dem Pyjama anziehen. Er mag außerdem gute Sprüche: "I wasn`t born to play this part. I was born to have a nice life and not strain [anstrengen] myself too much." (R. Mitchum) "I´m the author of myself." (Coriolanus) (...) you have to protect your talent. That’s the trick I suppose. What somebody has called, ‘Building the bridge between the monk and the beast’.  Isn’t that a good line?” (CW über Graham Greene). Er träumt "in Technicolor"...(so wie ich..hahaaa) In ihrem Haus in Manhattan erinnert sich Georgianne an ihr erstes Date mit Chris:" Er war so hübsch und stattlich, wie ein Ritter in seiner glänzenden Rüstung."