Okok But What About A Fic With Coriolanus Based Off Of The Unreleased Version Of National Anthem, I Want

okok but what about a fic with coriolanus based off of the unreleased version of national anthem, i want it all by lana del rey??? like she has the same ambitions and drive as him (a little coocoo) and they kind of just manipulate each other, but like they do really love each other yk?? food for thought 😙

"𝐁𝐲𝐞, 𝐛𝐲𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲!"

pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.

word count: 674!

summary: if you wanted one thing, Coriolanus would give it to you.

warnings: mention of manipulation, excerpts from "I want it all" by Lana Del Rey, Coriolanus needy and wrapped around reader's finger, reader sitting on Coriolanus' lap.

The word "frustration" was so mediocre in your tongue that, at times, it burned your with pure bitterness. — With such an immoral meaning, there is no meaning in your life.

And you didn't even have a drop of pleasure in mentioning it in secret, in front of and outside the harsh and venomous gazes of your classmates. — After all, you didn't want them to be able to associate your fascinating image with that word.

Even if, at times, that feeling of relief, tranquility in your life and especially in the financial sense, turned into a knot of frustration, disappointment with factors that didn't go your way. — Taken for days, completely, fragile and indiscreet. — You would never admit or mention it, not even with your dying breath.

However, there was one person among those neat and arrogant vipers who recognized your despair, observed your fragility with his deep and beautiful blue eyes; who paid attention to you, getting to know you. — Silently admiring your steps on clumsy days. — Watching how you manipulated those who had something that marked your interest.

You loved to seduce any look to achieve your greatest desires. — Mainly, the look so full of feelings, displeasures and sensitivities

Coriolanus understood your body language, and was surprised by it; in most times and situations, you didn't even need to say a word, not even release a sigh, because he already had in mind what could have happened. — And that he could use that to his advantage.

But the prodigal boy, so admired and recognized by the university and envied by the majority, had no capacity to involve and blackmail you; no, he couldn't. — And it was an ironic play, because Coriolanus would commit such an action with anyone. — Even if your situation, his life is at a moment of failure and, intensely, unpleasant.

Coriolanus, in his reason for wanting, wanting everything he wanted most in his life, or that could help him or even favor him, he would do anything. — To enjoy his power, to lift his mediocre life from misery and poverty, Coriolanus would do absolutely anything. — Just like you, even in different circumstances.

Like, maybe, he would do anything for you. — And maybe, you would do anything for him and for him. — However, the factors that could benefit you always come first.

"Do you think you'll kill for me one day?" — Your voice, lost, in pure sympathy and your hands passing through some white and curly locks that were stuck on his forehead; a sweet gesture for a slightly inappropriate moment.

Sitting between Coriolanus's thighs, you settled, beautifully, on his lap; as if it were his favorite seat. — The distress, which didn't bother your so much, from his rich-looking fabric pants touched your skin. — You were so relaxed, carefree.

And also wrapping the young boy Snow around your finger, with an invisible string before his eyes.

Coriolanus was stunned, his cheeks red and hot, swallowing hard and trying his best to remain conscious; he was funny so ridiculous. — The one worthy of the surname Snow, the one who had a promising future and drew confident and ambitious comedians, was nothing more than a trembling and needy soul.

He had the answer on the tip of his tongue, between his bright, reddish lips, but he hadn't committed to saying it. — Coriolanus felt his heart beating faster and faster, feeling like it would leave his chest at any moment and he wouldn't even have the ability to control it.

"Yes." — Coriolanus sighed, so breathless and marking his bluish irises and poisoned by attention on your lips and, soon, your eyes. — "Of course i will, my darling."

God, he wasn't lying; Coriolanus would never do such a merciless and deplorable thing against you. — Even in his last circumstances, in his worst second of life. — He felt so pathetic, sensitive but only you could make him feel that way.

Your lips curved into a gratifying smile, feeling satisfied and fortunate, and almost brushed against Coriolanus's. — You always got what you wanted and wanted most.

Sunshine and Midnight Rain

Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader

word count: 851

summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story

a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING

Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.

You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.

“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.

“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.

“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?

“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.

“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.

“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.

“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”

——————

“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.

You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.

“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.

“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.

“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.

You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.

“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.

“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.

“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.

“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.

“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.

“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.

“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.

“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.

“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.

“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.

“He was always my favorite,” he adds.

“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.

“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.

Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.

“You’re staring, again” You mention.

“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.

You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.

“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.

“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”

——————

It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.

As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.

“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.

“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.

You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”

“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks

“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.

“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.

“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”

And maybe, just maybe, he could.

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 

-

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

-

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 

-

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

-

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

-

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 

-

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

Partners in Crime; Coriolanus Snow

pairing - dark!Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader summary - Coryo decides to get you a special gift to make sure you know that you are his and he is yours words - 1.75k warning - talk of blood, needles, knife to the throat. Snow is a teensy bit overprotective. Snow with a blood kink?? note - i wrote this after seeing a tiktok on my fyp similar to this and loved the idea and immediately my mind went too young!coriolanus

You never expected dating Snow to be so troubling; yes, you understood how popular and extremely attractive he was, but you assumed announcing your relationship would put an end to all the ‘fangirls’. Clearly, that wasn’t the case; you couldn’t walk the halls of the academy by his side without girls giving you the death stare. Even while walking unaccompanied, they wouldn’t leave you alone. They would do anything in their power to try and tear apart your relationship with ‘their Coryo’.

Of course, Coriolanus was oblivious to the whole situation; his attention was solely fixated on you and no one else. He didn't pay any mind to what others may have thought or attempted to do regarding the relationship. To him, he had you, and you had him; that was all that mattered. Snow’s undivided attention to you created a bond capable of withstanding any external judgment; he was hopelessly devoted to you.

The night you brought it up to Coriolanus was the night he snapped out of whatever absentminded trance he was in. He finally saw how his so-called ‘friends’ were treating you, and he was not here for it. How could anyone treat you like that, like you were something in the way of getting what they wanted, or in this case, who they wanted? These people would not get away with acting like that toward you.

“Don’t you worry, my love; they will never look at you with an ounce of hatred ever again,” he whispered to you while he softly played with your hair. Your head lay in his lap, on the verge of falling asleep after hours of crying to him about your peers at the academy. “Do you promise?” You were certain he was already planning ways to confront every single person who dared to make you feel this way; his response just proved your thoughts. “I will make sure of it,” you heard him mutter before you fell into a deep slumber.

He did; the next day he woke up extra early and slipped out from under you before sneaking his way out of your room. Normally, he would wake you up before he left to ensure that you got to school when he did. But for the sake of what he was about to do, he made sure to let you wait until your alarm woke you up for the day.

Snow was on a mission. His once carefree demeanor while walking down the hall was replaced with a stern expression. People were staring at him, mainly a couple of the girls who believed he had a chance with him. He knew they realized something was up with him and only confirmed their observations as he marched right up to his ‘friends’ and pushed one of them against the wall.

“What the hell, Coriolanus? What's your deal?” The boy asked, hearing gasps from everyone in the nearby vicinity. “Don’t try and play innocent with me.” Snow pushed him even harder into the wall before continuing.

His confrontation was harsh but necessary; most of the group admitted their actions and apologized to him after realizing how serious he was about you. They were now terrified of what he would do to them. Coriolanus had a history of harming anyone who wronged those he loved. He did not play around when it came to other men hitting on you; he once got suspended for bringing a knife to the throat of a student who simply complimented your outfit.

By the time you met him in front of the academy, word had gotten around of Snow’s stunt. As you walked side by side, you didn’t see anyone's eyes on you; it felt freeing. The girls who had previously harassed you felt the weight of Snow’s disapproval. Some were afraid to even look in your direction in fear of their precious Coriolanus coming after them. Others took notice of his commitment to you and admired him. Either way, the power of Snow’s presence silenced the whispers and glares. That day, his actions proved to everyone that he was indeed hopelessly devoted to you, and nothing could come between you and your love.

Although you were no longer bothered, Coriolanus was not satisfied. He needs you to know that he belongs to you, not to any of those girls who chased after him. Over the course of the next week, he tried to find you the perfect gift. It wasn’t until he was browsing through one of many stores in the capital’s markets that he found the most unique jewelry store. He just knew he had to get you a necklace and maybe a little something for himself.

That night, he snuck into your room, ready to take what he needed. You were a deep sleeper, so he was certain you wouldn’t wake up. Coriolanus carefully sat on your bed next to your sleeping body. He didn’t want to hurt you, but in order for his gift to show its full effect, he needed to do this not only to you but to himself as well. Taking the needle, he grabbed your arm and pricked your skin, making sure to avoid a vein. The needle only went a little past the surface; he didn’t want you to bleed out; he just needed enough to fill up a tiny vial.

Snow watched as the blood dripped from your arm into the clear container, finding pleasure in seeing the red substance leak from your body. Beauty was something that came naturally to you; it was no question. But right now, as you were sleeping with your hair covering your face and blood dripping from your arm, he could only describe you as stunning. The soft glow of the moon spilled into your room and cast a gentle light onto your features as you lay there, lost in a dream; Aphrodite truly had nothing on you.

Finally, it came time for Snow to give you his special gift; he had mentioned something of it previously after you woke up one day with a bandage covering a puncture wound on your arm. He didn’t want to spoil his present, seeing as it wasn’t the right time to surprise you with it, but he knew better than to alarm you by not explaining that the wound was from him. You were a little skeptical at first; however, you trusted him and knew he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally harm you.

The two of you sat on a blanket in a secluded park, away from everyone. You loved picnics and always had to beg Coriolanus to plan them for you. He hated the idea of someone seeing him on a picnic, but he did it for you no matter what. The air was filled with a sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of the leaves from the tree above you provided soothing background noise.

You were 200 pages deep into reading him a book when he sat up and grabbed it out of your hand and gently placed it on the blanket. Looking at him confused as he held your hand, you beckoned, “Is everything okay, Coryo?” His reply was short as he reached into the basket he packed with plenty of sandwiches, fruit, and dessert for your day out. “Everything is perfect, love,” he smiled, his face filled with joy. “Actually, I have a present for you.” Now, it was your turn to smile as you expressed how excited and thankful you were that he got you something.

"This is a necklace; I had it made for you." He handed you the box and allowed you to open it up to find the most precious heart-shaped necklace you ever laid eyes on. It was small and dainty, but you immediately fell in love with the redness of it. You looked up to see him watching your expressions, hoping you liked it; you did. You tackled him into a big hug that sent you both flying onto your backs. He laughed as he used one hand to push you both up, with the other hand wrapped around your waist to ensure your safety.

Coriolanus went on to disclose information about the red liquid inside the heart; you found it endearing knowing he wasn’t the best when it came to needles. He loved you enough to face his fear to get you something special. Unbeknownst to you, his blood wasn’t the only blood drawn for a piece of jewelry. As you were admiring the necklace he clasped around your neck, he spoke up again, “There's actually one more thing to show you, love.” Facing him, you watched as he slowly showed you a lovely ring on his finger. It was the same red as your necklace, but something about it seemed different. “It is your blood, in the jewel,” he confessed. He didn’t know how you would take it, but seeing that beautiful smile on your face, he found the courage to continue. "I, uh… I got them, so we are always with each other, even when the other is not near.”

In the eyes of others, this gesture might have caused them to run away screaming, but in your eyes, it was better than anything you could’ve asked for. You knew Coriolanus was different from the others in the capital; he was overprotective over his loved ones and cold to those who had oppressed them. He had his own special way of caring and showing his love, and you adored it. You didn’t care how dark or ‘evil’ he could be; you loved him for who he was and every part of him.

As you thanked Snow for the special gift over and over again, you couldn’t help but stare into his bright blue eyes. It was as if you were mesmerized by them. Snow, equally captivated by the sincerity of your gratitude, found himself lost in the warmth of your eyes. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, you leaned in, closing the distance between you. Your lips brushed against his before they finally met in a sweet and gentle kiss. It was a simple exchange of affection and a silent celebration of your connection.

Neither of you wanted to pull away, but considering you were running out of air, it was the smart thing to do. Still lost in each other’s gaze, Coriolanus swore,

“Till death do us part, my love.” “Till death do us part, Coryo,”

when were you going to tell me?

Coriolanus Snow x F!Reader

[summary: you wake up in the hospital after the rebel bombing in the arena, with coriolanus by your side]

warning: mentions of bombing: ooc!snow

a/n: not gonna lie this idea came to me in a dream I had also wrote this while tired like if I close my eyes I’d bed asleep for hours

You groggily opened your eyes, and took in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but smile faintly, as you felt a pair of lips press against your forehead. You realized that you were in a hospital.

“Coryo?” He smiled in response rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “I’m here,” He said, looking down at his lover. You had bandages wrapped around your chest and head. “What happened?” You asked, looking at him.

“It was a rebel bombing,” He said, and you looked at him, “They’re continuing on with the games.” He added, and you just stared at him. You honestly, we’re surprised the Capitol wouldn’t let some rebel bombing delay or stop the games.

They were most definitely going to use the rebel bombing as an example.

“Lucy Gray is she-

“She’s alive saved my life.” He said, gently rubbing his lover hand. “But, Faucet tried to escape and was killed by Peacemakers.” He said, and you looked at him and nodded, you weren’t angry or mad.

“Love?” He said, looking at you and you smiled hearing the nickname he gave you.

“Yes?” You responded curiously, looking at him. But noticed the serious look on his face, “When were you going to tell me that you are with child?”he asked, your face froze and you gulped gripping the covers of the hospital bed.

Yandere Henry VIII w/Mistress!Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ 👑 — lady l: okay, I literally finished this in 30 minutes because I was so excited. I've been thinking about this since I wrote this reaction and decided to do some hcs! Hope you like it!! ❤️

❝tw: mention of cheating, implied death and murder, manipulation.

❝ 👑pairing: yandere!henry viii x female!reader.

You came from an English noble family that craved riches and power, like all nobles of that time. Your father was rich and powerful, but he wanted more, he wanted more power and he had a way of getting it.

You were his only daughter, he no longer had legitimate descendants after the death of your mother in childbirth, who was very dear to him. So it was your duty to bring fortune and power to your family.

You grew up knowing that one day you would have to marry some rich man and you were educated from an early age to learn how to be a good wife and give strong sons to your future husband. That has always been your duty and what you were taught to believe.

Until the day you went to the English Court and met the King. You and your father had been invited to celebrate the birth of his son, albeit a bastard. Henry FitzRoy, unfortunately, Catherine of Aragon had not been able to produce a male child for him, which was her main function.

Henry laid eyes on you the first moment he met you during the party. You were so young and shy, standing next to your father and looking around the corners shyly. You caught his attention and he decided he wanted you.

You decided to leave the room where the party was taking place, to get some air and be able to breathe properly. Henry went after you and cornered you against a wall, looking intensely at you.

Your heart skipped a beat when you came face to face with the King of England, but you smiled and lowered your eyes, in a submissive posture. Henry smiled in approval and touched your face affectionately, taking in her gentle, soft features. So perfect and so beautiful. He bent down to your ear and said he would like to see you more often.

Your legs had gone weak but you nodded and he smiled in approval. From that date on, you and Henry began to meet in secret and all of these meetings were platonic, nothing sexual had happened, only a few kisses. Henry found himself enjoying your company more and more and longing for you, forgetting about his other mistresses and focusing entirely on you.

Your father eventually found out about your encounters with Henry and he was ecstatic. Here was the opportunity to gain more power and status if you became Henry's mistress. He was the one who encouraged you to accept the King's advances and become his mistress.

Henry was over the moon when you became his mistress. Now he could have you whenever he wanted. He adored you, your body, your personality, everything about you. You were so sweet and naive, even when he was worshiping you in the privacy of his chambers, being ravaged by the King.

He spoiled you more than anything. Your family had received titles and powers, but the real power and wealth were yours. Henry spoiled you beyond measure, jewelry, dresses, shoes, and even properties were bestowed upon you. Everything you wanted was yours, all you had to do was let yourself be worshiped by the King.

Being his mistress had several perks, and although you had made enemies, none of them really mattered when you were with him. You ended up falling in love and Henry was increasingly consumed by his passion and obsession.

He became more possessive and jealous of you every day, no one could look at you more than once and Henry would end up becoming a tyrant for you. He has no problem eliminating anyone who might affect you. He is yours and you are his. Henry would do anything for you, from abdicating his throne to making you Queen if you asked.

You were satisfied with your status as a mistress, but the idea of ​​becoming Queen of England appealed to you, just as it did to your father. Henry encouraged you to accept this deal, encouraged you to marry him and become his Queen. You hesitated for a while, but after discovering you were pregnant, you agreed to marry Henry.

Henry would do everything to make this happen, that you would become his Queen and the son you carried would be legitimate. He would send letters to the Vatican, and make alliances and enemies, he didn't care, but he would have you as his Queen.

Whatever it takes. If he has to pay a high price for it, so be it. Henry will have you as his Queen and wife.

All the blood spilled, the wars and conflicts were worth it for Henry when he was able to marry you, crown you Queen of England and when he held his son in his arms as you slept peacefully after giving birth.