Coriolanus X Y/n - Tumblr Posts

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(young president!coriolanus x young!f!plinth!reader)

summary: the president takes notice of Sejanus’ much younger sister, at one of his galas, and cannot let her go.

cw: plinth!reader, innocent!reader, virgin!reader, sejanus lives (and is still friends with coryo), age-gap (coryo is 28, reader is are 18), strabo is a shitty father, sweet!coryo (but only to you), heavy smut, creampie, soft sex, pet names (little one, little dove, darling, etc), cuddling, lmk if i missed anything!

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the Presidential Mansion, a stark contrast to the still-setting sun outside. Your arm is tightly linked with your brother, Sejanus’ arm, as you make your way to the table. You don’t know anyone at this event, not really.

You’re far too young, the next youngest people at the gala are brother’s age, and even still, Sej is 10 years older than you. It makes you feel queasy, knowing most of these men in attendance are nearly old enough to be your father, and they are all staring at you.

Staring at you like you’re a fine piece of meat, and they’re starving for a taste.

You sit down next to your brother, and quickly survey the other guests seated at your table. Clemensia Dovecoat, Festus Creed, Livia Cardew, Persephone Price. All your brother’s age, no one younger. You want to shrink back into your seat, become invisible.

You have no idea why your brother invited you to attend this Gala with him, but you have a feeling it was not with the purest intentions. As you graduated from the Academy, both your parents and your brother were pushing for you to find a suitor, to further better the Plinth name. Frankly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn, you were far more worried about being successful at the University to find a husband.

“Hello.” A familiar, yet unfamiliar voice breaks you from your reverie. Coriolanus Snow, or should I say President Snow, you think. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was a very attractive man. Having been very young when your brother began bringing him around to your family’s manor, you only had some vague memories of Coriolanus, however, he has been a close friend to Sejanus, so he’s been around your vicinity for years.

I wouldn’t mind marrying him, your thoughts betray every fiber of your being, who you are. You are an independent woman, you don’t need a man, you need to do well at the University, and score a job. Not fawn over the President of Panem. Oh well, you think, he wouldn’t want anything to do with someone as young as me.

“Hello, Coriolanus.” Your brother greets him warmly, then lightly touching your arm, “I don’t know if you remember my sister, Y/N, but I’ve invited her as my guest tonight.”

“Hello, Mister President.” You say, wanting to roll your eyes at the pomposity of the statement you just spoke. You quickly scanned Coriolanus, and you were not disappointed. Blonde hair slicked back, beautiful blue eyes, a tight crimson suit that perfectly accented the muscular frame you were sure was underneath it.

“No need for the formalities, Ms. Plinth, just call me Coryo.” He responds, giving you (and your body) a quick glance in return. You want to blush at his actions, but you restrain yourself.

“Then call me Y/N, Coryo, Ms. Plinth is much too formal for me.” You bite back, cracking him a smile. He returns it, before turning to your brother.

“Mind if I borrow your sister for a dance, Sej?” He asks your brother, missing the wicked glare that Livia sends you. You’re not sure why she’s upset with you. You knew the President was a single man, which was a rarity in the politicians in Panem. But, you’re no where near his age range. He wouldn’t want you like that, right? He would want someone like Livia, perfect and his age.

“Of course not, thank you for being so kind to her. She’s a little overwhelmed with the gala, as is to be expected. She’s never been to one this formal before.” Sejanus tells Coryo, and you smile weakly, standing up, wobbling slightly in the heels that were a little too high for you.

Coriolanus rounds the table, grasping your hand lightly in his much larger one, leading you to the dance floor in the center of the room. He circles his arms around your waist easily, and you reach up to circle yours around his neck. He begins swaying you gently in time with the music before opening his mouth to speak.

“I don’t remember Sejanus mentioning that he had such a beautiful sister.” He whispers to you, leaning his head down so you could hear his words. He was well over a half a foot taller than you, even with you in your heels. That thought was dizzying.

You blush in response to his words, ducking your head. But you don’t stay that way for any more than a moment, as he brings two of his fingers under your chin, before lifting your chin up, to meet his gaze. “I mean it, dove. You’re simply stunning.”

The flattery was almost too sickly sweet, but you relished in it. “Thank you, Coryo.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, you had never been in a situation like this. Sure, the boys from the Academy thought you were pretty, but they were nothing compared to the President of Panem.

“You are very welcome, darling. Tell me, how old are you? I cannot remember your dear brother ever mentioning your age.” There it is, you thoughts begin ruining the moment, he will no longer be interested in you once he finds out you are so young.

“I just turned eighteen, I am set to become a student at the University in the fall.” You look into his eyes, expecting to see something, a wavering of interest, anything. But instead, you see nothing.

“I see.” Is all he says, continuing to sway to the music, holding you. His grip tightens lightly, as more people make their way to the dance floor, like he doesn’t want to lose you to someone else, some other man. Like anyone would dare attempt to snatch you away from the President of all people.

“I was expecting you to be a bit older,” He continues, giving you another look, throughly analyzing every part of your body, “Especially when Strabo mentioned to me a potential love match in his darling daughter.”

It’s like a bomb has gone off, shattering your world around you. Of course he wasn’t really interested in you, foolish girl, you think. It was set up, so you could finally find the suitable husband your father had been discussing since it had been deemed socially acceptable to do so.

“A potential… what?” You spat out, not harshly, just in surprise. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Love match, darling. But, you may be just a bit too young for me.” He tells you, shattering your heart just a bit. You knew he was too old for you, no matter the attraction you felt for him. Not to mention that your father was simply trying to better the position of the family name by attempting to marrying you off to him.

You weren’t sure what to feel. You wanted Coriolanus, in ways a woman of your social standing shouldn’t. Especially given the age difference that was present between the two of you, however, there was no denying his pure masculine beauty. There was still that thought in the back of your mind that by engaging yourself with Coriolanus, you would be pleasing your father and his wishes for you. In this moment, you knew everything you felt about Coryo would override the disdain you had for pleasing your father.

“I’m not too young.” You almost whine back at him, a light pout forming on your lips as you stare into his impossibly blue eyes. You didn’t want him to see you as too young, you wanted him to see you as just another woman. Who cares that he was nearly ten years older than you?

“Is that so, princess?” He chastises you jokingly, before continuing, “You said you were eighteen, right?” He waits for you to nod, then resumes, “Well, do the arithmetic, little one. If I am twenty eight, and you are eighteen, that leaves us with a ten year difference.”

“I don’t care about that Coryo.” You find yourself frustrated. You wanted him, especially after all of the praise he had given you. Right now, in this moment, the ten years between the two of you didn’t matter. “I find myself rather attracted to you.” You tell him, honestly.

“Is that so, little one?” He asks, smirking at your words. He knew he could mold you into the perfect little wife, so young, so innocent still, unlike the women his age, who already knew what they wanted and simply wanted him for the money and glory that came along with marrying the President.

“Yes, please. I want you. My father was right, about the potential love match. Please, don’t leave me to marry some other man that isn’t twice the man that you are. I know I am young, but that doesn’t matter. I’m old enough to know what I want. Please, Coryo.”

You beg him, not sure exactly why you wanted him so bad. You had just really met him after all. But he was so attractive, so powerful. Something about him enticed you, and you didn’t want to let it go before anything could even potentially happen, before you could see where it progressed between the two of you.

“If you’re so sure, little one. However, this is a conversation we should have somewhere more private, away from prying eyes.” He tells you, raising your hopes ever so slightly. He wasn’t outwardly telling you no, and that you were absolutely too young for him.

Silently, he seizes swaying instead turning you so that you are pressed tightly to his side, one arm firmly grasped around your back, the other arm falling to his side as he led you out the doors to the ballroom, further into the Mansion, and into what you could only assume was his bedroom, gently closing and locking the door behind him, not unnoticed by you.

He is silent for a moment, before speaking, “You mentioned other men. You are going to be mine, little dove. No other men matter to you. I’ve been aware of your age this whole night, and your father and I have been discussing this chance meeting between us for some time now.”

You want to feel disappointed, or disgusted. Your father and Coriolanus, going behind your back, planning your future without a say from you. Planning when you would meet, when would be the right time. You had so many thoughts swirling in your head, it was overwhelming.

“How. Long.” You spat out at him, visibly upset. You wanted him, sure. But if he had been going behind your back, and truly knew of you well before you knew of him, you weren’t as sure. It felt almost predatory, knowing you were barely legal.

“Just over a year, darling.” His words made you want to vomit. Before you were legal. Your father, planning a marriage to a man ten years your senior, when you weren’t even legally able to be married, or have intercourse. You started to sway on your feet, feeling faint. You couldn’t believe it.

Coriolanus reached out a strong arm, steadying you, before grasping your hand and pulling you to sit on the edge of the bed. With you sitting, and he standing, the height difference became even more pronounced. You had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, even when you did not want to.

“A year.” You started, thinking for a moment, choosing your next words carefully. “My father has been meeting with you for a year, to discuss marriage. When I wasn’t even legal!” You yelled at him from your seated position, not feeling stable enough to attempt standing.

“I know it’s wrong, little one. And I am sorry. I only learned of you not being eighteen last night. This entire time, up until last night, I thought you were already eighteen, or older. Your father never mentioned your exact birthday, only that you were of marriage age.”

Your rage for Coriolanus dissipated, the only anger that remained was for your father. You couldn’t take it out on Coryo, who didn’t know you were underage for most of the planning, not until it didn’t matter. He was just as innocent as you.

“It’s alright.” You kept your statement concise, not sure what else to say, without bursting out into tears. You could already feel them welling in your eyes, and you begged them not to fall.

The tears didn’t do unnoticed by Coriolanus, who looks taken aback at the thought of you crying. “Don’t cry, little one. It’s alright, I assure you. I am going to give you some space, and some time alone. You are to wait here, however. I am not forcing you, but I would prefer we continue this conversation when you are ready.”

He leans down, and presses a small kiss against the crown of your head gently before making his way toward the door, grabbing the knob.

“Wait,” You start, tears starting to fall at the thought of him leaving you alone. “Stay, please.” You beg.

“Sweetheart, I can’t. I need to give you space to think. I don’t want to force this upon you.” He tells you honestly, turning the knob.

“But why?” You state, petulant like a child. The child that you still practically are. “Just stay here, with me. I’ve already made up my mind.” You say, standing back up onto your feet, making the few steps to the door, grasping his upper arm gently.

“I can’t.” He says simply, not moving. He looks almost conflicted on right or wrong in this moment. Your lip begins to wobble, as you think about him leaving you.

“But why, Coryo? I already made up my mind. My father may have hid the truth about my age from you, but I want you. Please.” You plead with him, willing him to stay in this room with you.

“I’m way too old for you, my love.” Coriolanus stops turning the knob, though. Standing, waiting for you to speak again. He had to at least partially hear you out, and he wanted to know your rationale.

“And what if I don’t care if you are far too old for me?” It was your last feeble attempt at getting him to stay. If he wanted to stay, it was up to him now. You weren’t going to plead with him, he was a grown man.

“I can see how much you would prefer it if I stay.” He says with a sigh, pulling you into his arms, his warm embrace surrounding you with a feeling you had never acted upon before.

“Coryo,” You whisper, “I want you. I want you so bad.” His eyes widen in surprise at your words, confused on what exactly you meant by wanting him.

“What do you mean, little one?” He doesn’t get the chance to do anything but whisper back that sentence before you were leaning up on your tiptoes, and your lips pressed against his, hard. He doesn’t fight you, quickly kissing back.

He adjusts you so that your back is up against the door, and your fronts are pressed together tightly, without breaking the kiss. He runs his hand along the curves of your waist, before bringing his hands to cup your ass lightly. You let out a gasp, and he uses that to his advantage and slips his tongue into your mouth, tongues tangling.

He then drops his hands to below your knees, sweeping you into his arms, and carrying you back to the bed. He disconnects the kiss, with a whine falling from your lips, lightly setting you down on the bed.

“Are you sure, little dove? I can stop if you aren’t sure.” You appreciated his concern in this moment, but all you wanted was him. You vocalized that to him, and he smiled. He pulled you, so that your feet were dangling off the edge of the bed, where he was still standing. Getting down on his knees at your feet, he gently unbuckled the heel, and removed it from your foot, one foot at a time. As he removed the shoe, he ran a hand over the soft skin, before pressing a kiss to the sole of your foot.

He kissed his way up your legs, up to your thighs, being met with the skirt of your dress. He flipped the skirt up, over your hips, and met your eyes again as his hands made their way to the edge of your underwear.

“Still alright, little one?” He asked, thumbs in the band of the underwear, waiting for permission to pull them down. You nodded at him, with a weak grin. Coriolanus smiled back at you, before pulling the panties down your legs, over your ankles.

He spread your legs, so that your wet heat was visible to him. He grinned, before leaning down and licking a teasing stripe up your pussy, You moaned lewdly, legs closing around his head, locking him in place. He continued his broad licks, eventually moving to circle your clit until you were twitching. He stuck his tongue inside of your hole a few times, and that was enough. You gushed around his tongue, quickly becoming overstimulated and pushing his head away.

As he brought his head out from between your thighs, you noticed his face was covered in your juices, and you laughed. He cracked a smile at you, allowing you to breathe for a few moments together. He gently helped you to your feet, to your confusion for a moment, until he spun you so that he could unzip your dress.

Once you were fully bared to him, dress gently placed on a chair in the corner, he began to undress for you. The suit jacket first, then the button up, revealing his pale yet well formed chest that had you licking your lips in anticipation. His shoes were toed off, and socks removed too. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly before removing his slacks and boxers, cock springing up, very obviously hard, the tip nearly purple as he looked at you.

You felt intimidated. You were a virgin, and his cock was so long, and so thick. You knew it was going to hurt, and you hoped he wouldn’t let it hurt you too bad.

“Coryo,” You whispered, “I’m a virgin.” He stopped, and looked you directly in the eyes.

“That’s alright, little one. I’ll be careful, so so gentle. I promise.” He tells you earnestly, and you smile at him, nodding. You trusted him, he had never lied to you before, not willingly.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, before climbing on top of you, his strong forearms next to your head. He grabbed his cock, positioning it with your hole, before gently beginning to push in.

You flinched at the intrusion, body wincing at the pain from his cock splitting you open. Tears sprung back into your eyes, and he stopped pushing in, giving you a moment to adjust. He kissed you, making out lightly for a moment.

“You can keep going.” You said, breaking the kiss. You hissed as he kept pushing, but eventually, he was fully sheathed inside of you, and the sting had dulled down to a pressure inside of you. You looked down, and you could see a faint outline of his cock on your stomach and you smirked.

“Look, darling.” You directed him to where you were looking and he smirked back at you.

“Look at you, little one. Your body is taking me so beautifully.” He responded beginning slow, thrusts in and out, keeping tempo.

“Please, Coryo. More!” You begged him, and he began thrusting faster, pressing into a spot inside of you that made you see stars. You moaned loudly at that feeling, his cock slamming into it every time he thrust back in. You couldn’t stop letting out little noises of pleasure, it felt too good. He let out little grunts too, praising you for taking him so well, being such a good little girl.

“Rub your clit for me, darling.” He directed you, breathing becoming heavier, thrusts more erratic. You could tell he was close, but you wanted to orgasm with him. You rubbed your clit harshly, moaning, and tightening around his cock.

“I’m so close!” You cried out, circling faster as he continued to pound in and out of you.

“As am I, little one.” He grunted back. “Come for me, darling. I’ll come for you.”

You allowed yourself to come, soaking his cock with his juices, and he spurted deep inside of you. He groaned as he pulled out, immediately missing the tight warmth of your cunt.

“You did fantastic, love.” He tells you, falling nearly on top of you, worn from the excursion. You gently scratch his scalp with your fingers, soothing him.

“I should be telling you that,” You laugh, continuing to massage his head.

“You are mine now, darling.” He grunts, completely blissed out, resting his head on your chest. “Age does not matter to me, little one.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling at him. “I am to be yours, forever.”

“Mine.” He agrees. You don’t say anything back, basking in the afterglow. After tonight, you know that your future plans have shifted, and you couldn’t find it in you to care. You still had that independent woman in you, but now, with a powerful man by your side. You’d found yourself a wonderful man in the President of Panem, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.

©keeplcving 2024. please let me know what you think, and feel free to send me requests! :)

I absolutely fell in love with your wiring babe!!!

Can you do one where Coriolanus and fem!reader have been in an established relationship but they’ve never gotten intimate before so after a year of dating they’re hanging out at coryo‘s place and a kiss turns into lore and coryo indicates he wants to go further but reader is a bit intimidated considering she‘s never done it before and coryo is a bit experienced because reader‘s like 18 and coryo‘s like 21? Thank you sm!!!

thank you so much for your kind words sweet anon! of course i can! ! i bumped their ages just a bit up to 19 and 22 so there is no morality issues with them being 17 and 20 when they started dating! hope that’s okay with you, anon! enjoy xoxo ♡

cherry.

(university!coriolanus x younger!virgin!f!reader)

summary: she may love her man, but something’s holding her back from doing more with him.

cw: younger reader (reader is 19, coryo is 22), sweet!coryo, heavy kissing, dry humping, oral (f receiving), creampie, soft sex, cuddling, aftercare (kinda??)

Today had been more than enough for you. With your first semester at the University coming to a close, with final exams, you were beyond stressed, and all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and take a nap.

You quickly make your way to the Snow’s apartment, not wanting to waste any precious time that the two of you could have together. You knew that you would have to have dinner at home tonight, in celebration of you completing your first semester. Your parents were beyond proud of you, and your academic achievements, and you couldn’t spend the night at Coriolanus’, even though you’d much rather spend time with him.

“Darling?” You say as you open the door to the apartment, looking around for the blonde head of your boyfriend. You find him in the kitchen, holding a cup of tea.

“Hello, my love.” He greets you warmly, before passing you the mug with the press of a kiss to the top of your head. You smile, feeling so overwhelmed with love for your boyfriend. He knew you so well, that chamomile tea was one of the ways you relaxed.

“Thank you.” You whispered, taking a sip of the tea. You couldn’t believe that Coryo was yours sometimes, with how thoughtful and generous he was towards you. He showed you a love that you didn’t think still existed.

“You are very welcome, my dear.” He responds, before gently taking your hand and leading you into his (and yours most nights of the week) room. Gently shutting the door, Coryo turned the dim light on, which was used to soothe the migraine you usually had after class.

You walked to your side of the bed, setting the mug down on the nightstand that was beside the bed, and you began to change into more comfortable clothes, while your boyfriend watched from his side of the bed. You then climbed into the bed into Coryo’s waiting embrace.

You hummed in relief, finally at ease after a long day. You gently inhaled, curling up on your boyfriend’s chest as he ran a hand slowly up and down over the rungs of your spine, trying his best to soothe you.

“I missed you this week.” He tells you quietly, continuing his gentle ministrations on your back.

You usually spent the night (and most of the day), but for the past week, you had spent every night hunched over your desk at home, studying. Coriolanus had told you to come study at his apartment with him, so you weren’t alone all night, but you couldn’t. You knew if you tried, you would’ve been too distracted by your handsome boyfriend to do any actual studying, which wouldn’t fare well for your grades. Your grades were super important to you, and not even Coryo could have you skipping study sessions.

“I missed you too, Coryo. I missed your strong arms holding me at night.” You giggled, remembering your inability to fall asleep this week, even after being up for twenty hours straight, without your boyfriend’s strong frame holding you close. It was almost embarrassing, the way you were so dependent on him for even the most basic of actions, like sleeping.

“And I missed you keeping me warm at night. How are you always so warm?” He joked. You knew that he was always so cold, no matter what, and holding you always soothed him, as you were always warm. It worked out for the pair of you, creating the perfect temperature you both desired.

“My body just holds a normal temperature, Snow.” You bite back, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He let out a deep groan at the feeling of your lips against his skin. He hadn’t kissed you all week, and he was feeling needy.

“Want something?” You tease, and he instantly pulls you to meet his lips. You love kissing Coriolanus. He treats you like the delicate woman you are, but also allows for some of your not-so-innocent side to come out.

He sits up, and pulls your thighs apart to straddle his own, and deepens the kiss. His hands slide down, grasping your ass firmly as you continue to kiss. He squeezes your ass, and you let out a moan at the feeling. He’d only done that a few times, but every time it felt so good.

He takes advantage of your mouth ever so slightly opening, sliding his tongue against yours. The kiss turns frantic, and you experimentally slide your hips against his thigh, pressing down. He lets out a groan, and you can feel the tent in his pants through your shorts and panties. It excites you, but it also terrifies you.

You had never had sex, and Coryo was your first real boyfriend. You had met when you had turned eighteen, on your first day at the University. You were a little lost on finding a classroom, and he had so kindly offered to help you find it. From then on, you two had been together, even though it took two months of constant flirting for him to finally ask you to be his. He was hesitant, as he had just turned twenty one, and being with someone three years his junior, especially whilst at University, was daunting. It seemed wrong, you were still so innocent, had never even been kissed.

You wanted him (and you knew he wanted you) but at the same time, you didn’t. You knew that virginity was a social construct, but it still was special to you, even if Coriolanus was also special to you, you were so afraid after being told (and overhearing) many horror stories by other girls in your class.

You tried it again, and Coryo gripped your hips, halting your movements. “Darling, if you continue, I may not be able to stop.” He hotly whispers into your ear, and you tense up. He notices this immediately, and looks apologetic. “I’m sorry, my dove. I have gotten carried away. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You are in control here. What would you like to do?”

“I…I want to keep doing what we were just doing. It feels so good for me, Coryo. I don’t know if I’m ready to have real sex yet. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a tease.” You tell him earnestly, eyes downcast with a matching pout upon your lips.

“Darling, you do not need to apologize to me. Whatever you feel comfortable doing, I am just fine with doing. Whatever makes you feel good. And, it feels good for me, too.” He smiles, and you nod. You should have expected this, he was always the gentleman, letting you take the lead on everything in the relationship. You knew he had experience, and you were grateful that he wasn’t controlling or demanding of you.

“Thank you for being so understanding, Coryo.” You tell him, resuming your movements, pushing your clothed cunt down and grinding on his clothed cock.

The pressure from the grinding feels so good, and when you move, you can feel him pressing against your clit through your panties. You feel animalistic as you speed up your movements, chasing that feeling deep in your stomach. It feels like a coil tightening, and you want him to make it snap.

He begins meeting your movements, pressing his cock up while you press your cunt down, and the groans that fall from his lips lead to your own pants and moans. Soon enough, you feel something inside of you snap, and you drench your panties with your juices, soaking his pants, too. You keep moving, though, knowing that you had just orgasmed. You wanted your boyfriend to feel the same pleasure.

Your rapid movements, along with the feeling of your juices soaking in his pants, make him reach his peak mere moments after you, grunting out your name. You both fall back, laying down, you directly on top of him, both breathing heavily. You collect your thoughts for a moment, allowing both of your heart rates to resume to normal.

“I think… I think I want more.” You tell him honestly, smiling. He smirks back, he had been waiting for this moment for a very long time, but he hadn’t wanted to pressure you, waiting until you were ready.

“If you’re sure, dove.” He waits for your nod, before rolling you over onto your back. He attacks your lips with kisses, trailing down to your neck, and to your collarbone.

He leaves a few love bites, and you shake your head at him. “How on earth am I supposed to hide these?” You jokingly chastise him, and he just rolls his eyes at you. You loved when he left his mark on your skin, even though this was only the third time of him doing it. It served you a reminder of him when you weren’t physically together, and you loved it.

He looks up, meeting your eyes. “Is it alright if I take this off?” He gestures to your (his) shirt that you were currently wearing. You quickly nod your approval, and he gently pulls it up, over your head. He had expected you to be wearing a bra underneath, but instead, he was met with your bare breasts. He lets out a groan, quickly leaning down to suck a nipple gently, swirling his tongue around the rapidly hardening bud.

You let out a series of mewls of pleasure, arching your back against the bed. Carefully, he lays himself over top of you, forearms holding him up so that he does not crush you. He switches breasts, lavishing both with equal attention. You grip the edge of his shirt, pulling it up until he gets the message, quickly pulling it off and throwing it somewhere you don’t see.

He continues kissing down your body, worshipping, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. He looks up for approval, and you simply smile, and he gently brings the shorts down, over your ankles, and finally off, joining his shirt somewhere. You then reach to unbutton his pants, and he finishes the job for you, leaving the both of you in just underwear.

“Are you sure?” He asks you, giving you once last chance to back out, and change your mind.

“Yes.” You respond, smiling at him, and he smiles back.

He removes the panties, and groans at the sight of your wet heat. He palms himself through his boxers, before sliding further down the bed, so that his face was eye level with your cunt. Your heart was beating rapidly in anticipation, and when he licks that first stripe from the bottom to your clit, you let out a sharp gasp. It felt so unlike anything you had ever felt before, you never wanted it to stop.

Grasping the back of his head with both of your hands, you held him in place, and you could see him smirk. He knew you would enjoy this, and he was so glad you were taking charge. He circled your clit slowly, and you couldn’t take the teasing anymore.

“Please, Coryo. More. I don’t know what, but more.” You begged of him, and he then began eating at your cunt like he was a feral animal that hadn’t eaten in days, licking and sucking and it felt so so so good. You almost couldn’t take it, and you felt yourself quickly approaching your second orgasm of the night.

You could see him humping against the bed as he ate you out, desperate for some friction of his own. Just the sight of that alone, alongside his tongue dipping inside your dripping hole had you coming, and loudly at that. You screamed, clenching your legs around his head, coating his face with your juices.

Once you had relinquished the pressure of your legs, he brought his head out, and made eye contact with you. “Feel good, princess?”

“No, it felt awful.” You teased, ruffling his curls with your fingertips. “Of course it did, Coryo. But now, I want you to feel good.”

With that, you urged him back up the bed, and slipped your small hand into his boxers, grabbing his cock. Your fingers barely fit all the way around, and after experimentally pumping it once, you could tell it was long.

“Take your boxers off.” You told him, leaving no room for argument. He pulled them off, and your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, long, thick and painfully hard. You had felt it, sure, but seeing it was a totally different ordeal.

“Is that… Is that going to fit inside of me?” You let out with a laugh, looking up at him.

“Yes, princess. It may take some work, and some time, but I promise, it will fit.” He replies, looking so seriously at you.

You smile in response, and without further preamble, grab his cock, pumping it up and down. You surprise him, and he lets out a series of low groans that have the heat pooling up in your stomach one more. Once you are satisfied that you feel confident to take his cock inside of you, you seize your pumping.

“I’m ready to try, darling. Please, please be gentle. Don’t hurt me.” You plead, pouting lightly.

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you, my dove. Just tell me if it gets to be too much. I will stop, I promise you that.”

With that, he slots his cock to line up with your drenched hole, and gently begins to press in. When you tense up after the first three inches, he stops immediately, meeting you eyes.

“Just give me one second, please.” You tell him, and he nods, waiting for you to tell him to continue pushing in. Once you do, he continues slowly sliding his cock into you, until he is fully surrounded by your tight, wet heat. He groans at the feeling, almost overwhelmed by how tight you’re squeezing him.

“Is it alright if I move, princess?” He asks, and you nod. He starts his movements off very slowly, trying his best not to hurt you by starting off too quickly, by getting too excited about finally being inside you.

It’s only when you beg him to give you more, that his pace quickens, and you can feel him push against a spot inside of you that makes you gush.

You had heard some girls talking about that spot, the g-spot, and how their lovers had never been able to find it. How lucky were you, your man was able to find it with ease. You moaned and gasped and writhed around, loving the feeling of his cock pounding relentlessly inside of you, hitting your g-spot every thrust.

You bring your two of your fingers down to your clit, circling it roughly while Coriolanus pounds into you, and you begin to see stars. You feel so overwhelmed, and clench around his cock. He lets out a groan, and is panting as he continues to fuck into you.

“I’m so close!” You scream, and he nods his head, not letting up. As you reach your peak, you look into his eyes, impossibly blue, and continue moaning.

You feel yourself come, but it felt like you had used the bathroom. There was so much liquid, you felt embarrassed. Coriolanus grunted as he continued his thrusts into you, and he didn’t let up until you felt him spurt deep inside of you. He slowly halted his movements, pulling out of you carefully as if not to hurt you further.

“What’s that liquid?” You asked him, confused and embarrassed. You had never done that the few times you fingered yourself, and were shocked.

“You squirted, my love. It’s totally normal, it just means your body felt so good it got overwhelmed.” He explains, running his fingers through your hair. You just nodded, allowing him to roll onto his side, pulling you flush against him, spooning.

You loved cuddling like this normally, but now, it felt all the more intimate. You had just given a part of yourself to your beautiful boyfriend, and you felt so good. Your body was so at peace, and you heard Coryo let out little snores. You realized he had fallen asleep, overexerted from your activities. You then allowed yourself to fall asleep in his arms, content with your first time.

So much for just taking a nap.

©keeplcving 2024. please let me know what you think, and feel free to send me requests! :) i’d love to write more of what y’all would like to see!!

Hii I’ve been waiting for a blog I like to ask and I really adore your writing!!

I keep thinking about coriolanus x reader set before the reaping and the reader is being sent to the districts (maybe as a punishment from the plinths for “filling sejanus’ head with rebel ideas” or smth) but anything works!! 🩷

awe, thank you so much, sweet anon! i am honored :). i hope i understood what you wanted, and wrote it to your standards. enjoy, xoxo.

dark paradise.

(academy!coriolanus x fem!reader)

summary: she may be a rebel at heart, but only one man can tame her.

cw: discussion of arranged marriage, sweet!coryo (i love writing him like that i’m sorry!), soft sex, oral (m receiving), cuddling, pet names, talking bad about the plinths, lmk if i missed anything.

“Me? To District Two? Why? What did I do?” You interrogate the peacekeeper who had pulled you out class, mid lesson.

“Orders of a Mr. Strabo Plinth. Says here you ‘filled my son’s head of anti-Capitol propaganda’. Enough grounds to see you removed from the Capitol, I believe.”

You couldn’t believe it. You hadn’t told Sejanus anything he didn’t already believe, you merely agreed with him. The Hunger Games were awful, and cruel. You knew enough about the world before Panem, and that in the country that existed before Panem, cruel and unusual punishment was against the country’s rules. Why wouldn’t that be the case in Panem?

“What? No I didn’t! Please, believe me.” You begged, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. You couldn’t leave the Capitol, it was your home, and had been your family’s home for years. You couldn't move to the districts, you wouldn't survive.

Your family had more than enough money and influence, but not as much as the Plinths. At this moment, you regretted befriending Sejanus. Sure, he was a sweet boy, but now his father was using you as a scapegoat to explain his son's inability to conform to Capitol standards and beliefs. All for simply agreeing with one of Sej's opinions.

You thought, for a moment, that this was it. You would never see the Capitol, or anyone in it, ever again, for the crime of having an opinion. You were a top student at the academy, set to be in the running for the Plinth Prize. How could they just kick you out of your home? You felt faint, overwhelmed with emotions, unsure of what to do, or even how to react.

"What's going on?" A voice interrupts your thoughts, and you let out a sigh of relief in recognition of the voice. Coriolanus Snow. He could get you out of this, he could easily explain that Sejanus was the rebel, not you. His family had more power and influence than the Plinths did, as they weren't from the districts.

"Miss Y/L/N here is about to be transported to District Two. She's a rebel. She's been filling Sejanus Plinth's head with anti-Capitol ideals, which Strabo isn't very pleased with. His son was supposed to make the Capitol his home, not turn against it." The peacekeeper explained to Coriolanus, and Coriolanus looked like he was in utter disbelief.

"Y/N?" Coriolanus spat out, "A rebel? Unlikely. If anybody is filling anyone's head with anti-Capitol ideals, it's Sejanus. Not Y/N." He states to the peacekeeper, hoping that he will believe the heir of the mighty house of Snow over district scum. The Plinths would never be Capitol, not really.

"Is that so?" The peacekeeper responds, "How is Miss Y/L/N not a rebel? Is there anything tying her to the Capitol, other than her family? Has she agreed to be married into a family of status?"

You couldn't believe that simply agreeing to be married into a family of status could keep you in the Capitol. That really couldn't prove anything, right?

"Yes, she is set to be married to me, upon our graduation from the Academy." You almost gasped in shock, not thinking that Coriolanus would come to your defense, lying for you in order to keep you in the Capitol. You held the gasp in though, and simply nodded your head.

"I am in love with him, sir. I wouldn't dare leave the Capitol, or say anything negative about it, when I have a man like Coriolanus to continue to show me the good that lies in the Capitol." You explain, stepping back to stand side by side with Coriolanus. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side, rubbing his fingers soothingly on your side.

"How could you insinuate that my future wife is anti-Capitol? That is simply preposterous." Snow spits out, rolling his eyes before continuing, "I would never marry a woman that was anti-Capitol. I wouldn't taint my future heir's blood with someone that stood against everything that I believe in. This is absurd."

Coriolanus made a very strong case for you, leaving very little room for the peacekeeper to argue. You knew you had to go along with his lie, and keep up the act, in order to save your place in Capitol society. You lean up, and press a light kiss to Coriolanus' cheek, smiling sweetly once you pull away.

"I see, I will relay this information to my superiors. In the mean time, Miss Y/L/N is to stay at your manor, Mister Snow. There will be a trial, you will be called to testify on Miss Y/L/N's character, and her personal ties to you. I am going to dismiss you both from classes for the rest of the day, and I will be by tomorrow to collect you both." The peacekeeper grunts, turning on his heel, leaving you and Coriolanus standing in the empty hallway.

"I cannot believe you would lie for me like that, Snow." You whisper to him, and he grins at you.

"Well, Y/N, I have always had an infatuation with you, as you know," You roll your eyes at him, knowing of the crush Snow harbored on you as children. "And I could not let that district scum Plinth take you away from me before I even had the opportunity to have you." He explains, and you blush in response to his words. You couldn't believe that he still, after all this time, was interested in you. You knew you were beautiful, sure, but not nearly as gorgeous as the other girls Coriolanus spent time with, like Clemensia, Livia, or Arachne.

"You... you want me?" You ask cautiously, still in shock of his confession.

"Yes, you foolish girl. I realize I have not made my true interest in you more pronounced in the past, but I was just thinking of bringing my proposal to your father. What I was telling the peacekeeper wasn't all lies, I want you to be my future wife." Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, not expecting a full on love confession from Coriolanus.

"Oh, Coryo." You whisper, looking directly into his eyes. You have always thought his eyes were one of his best features, and up close, you couldn't deny it. "I would love to be your wife." You smile at him sweetly, and you swear there is a blush on his cheeks, though you could never get him to admit to that.

"Really?" He asks, and you laugh, nodding. He then ducks his head, meeting your lips with a hesitant kiss. You press your lips back against his, hard, and he groans. You reach yours arms up, wrapping them lightly around his neck. You pull back for air, and press your forehead against his.

"I think we should go back to your apartment, so I can thank you. And show you that I am serious about wanting to become your wife." You tell him, and he groans again, thinking about all of the ways you could potentially thank him. You peck his lips once more, before he pulls away, gently guiding you to follow him.

As you both make the walk to the Snow's apartment, you talk about everything and anything, getting to know each other better. You both were serious, about wanting to marry each other, and if you were to marry, you should at least semi-court beforehand. And that involved a lot of getting to know each other: mind, body, and soul.

As he unlocked the door to the penthouse, you were slightly surprised to not see a fancy apartment. Rather, you saw a ramshackle place, that you could tell once held glory. You glanced at Coriolanus, who looked ashamed. You would never judge him, or his family's true financial situation, and you wanted to voice that to him. You didn't care that the Snows weren't as rich as they were before the war, all you cared about was Coriolanus. Besides, you could easily afford to pay for your future wedding, as well as help the Snow family out.

"Y/N..." Was all that Coriolanus was able to get out, before you started talking.

"Don't even bother, Coryo. I don't care that your family doesn't have as much money as it did before the war. I don't care at all about money. I know what I feel for you, and no amount of money that you have will change my feelings. Besides," You stop, worried that you may accidentally offend him with your offer, before continuing, "I could afford to pay for our wedding, and more, with all of my own money. You won't have to worry about a thing, darling. I could even help your family. I know that your cousin is a talented seamstress, and deserves more than what she has."

You see Coriolanus' jaw fall slack, before he cracks a smile you hadn't seen in years. It was beautiful, it was radiant, it was so Coryo, and you loved it.

"Really? You mean that, Y/N? You are not messing with me, are you?" He questions, worried that you did not mean a word you just told him, that you were simply toying with his heart.

"No, Coriolanus," You grab his hands in your small hands, yours quickly becoming engulfed by his large hands as he squeezes gently, "I am not messing with you. My father has a stupid amount of money, and I am his only child. I want to use the money I have for good. And helping your family is the good." You explain, wanting him to fully believe you. You would spend all of your allowance on him, if he wanted it. You had more than enough things that you knew he and his family merely wished for.

"Oh, darling. You are the sweetest woman in all of the Capitol, and you are all mine. Mine." He responds to your declaration, before leading you further into the apartment, and into his bedroom.

"All yours." You whisper, meeting his eyes. They were shining with unshed tears and love. You had never seen Coriolanus as a kind, loving man, as he was very guarded and reserved at the academy, only speaking when spoken to. However, you were so thankful that he trusted you enough to show that side of him, and it made your heart race.

He smiled at you once more, before speaking. "I remember you promising to thank me, and show me how you really feel about becoming mine, my darling." You knew that he wouldn't forget that you said that, and you were more than happy to show him how you cared for him.

You dropped to your knees in front of him, quickly unbuttoning his school uniform, and yanking the slacks down with the boxers he wore underneath. You gasped in shock at the size of his cock as it sprung up, slapping his stomach. He unbuttoned his top, quickly discarding in on the floor next to his bottoms, leaving him totally exposed for you, whilst you were still fully clothed. It felt powerful, him bare before you had everything on. He was surrendering himself to you, and you wanted to show your appreciation.

You peppered a few kisses to his thighs, before running your tongue up the entire length of his shaft. He was so long, so thick, you weren't entirely sure you would be able to fit him in your mouth. You had experience, sure, but you had never been with someone as large as Coriolanus.

He let out a low growl at the feeling of you tracing the vein that ran from bottom to top with your tongue, and you rewarded him by licking the slit of his cock, tasting his precome. Normally, the taste of a man's precome disgusted you, but his did not.

You then took the tip in your mouth gently, before hollowing your cheeks. You took him as far in your mouth as far as you could, feeling his cock bump into the back of your throat. You estimated he was about eight inches, with girth. You were one lucky woman, with a man that was far above average. You knew he would be able to pleasure you easily. But right now, all you were focused on was pleasuring him, thanking him for lying for you.

You bobbed your head up and down slowly, grabbing what you couldn't fit in your mouth with one of your hands, matching the bobs of your head with the twists of your wrist as you jerked the base of his dick. He was going crazy above you, letting out animalistic groans, hands fisted in your hair, gently tugging, as your worked your mouth over his cock.

You could tell he was close, by how loud his grunts got, and the way the hands tangled in your hair were pulling harder. You doubled down your efforts, moving your head up and down faster, making sure your hand was setting the same pace.

"Darling, I am so close. I am going to come down your throat." He warned you, panting. You didn't respond, continuing your efforts. You wanted him to come in your mouth, to truly thank him for being a kind man, at least a kind man to you. He came with a grunt, seed trickling in your throat, you swallowing it quickly.

Once he was done, you pulled off his cock, smiling sweetly up at him. He gently helped you onto your feet, making sure you were stable enough to stand after being on your knees.

"Thank you, my sweet." He told you earnestly, detangling the knots he had made in your hair with his gently with his fingers. You moaned at the sensation, and you could see his eyes turn dark at the sound you made.

He stopped running his fingers through your hair, instead setting his hands on your ass, pulling you to kiss him. The kiss was passionate, and you felt yourself beginning to dampen your panties. You pulled away from the embrace, panting heavily. You attempted to begin unbuttoning you uniform, but Coriolanus pushed your hands away.

"I want to undress you, darling. That's my job, from now on." He told you, removing both your top and bottoms, leaving you in your black, lacy bra and underwear. He groans at the sight of your breasts held up delicately in the bra, and hardens again instantly.

"May I?" He asks, his hands slipping to the clasp of your bra, waiting for your approval. When you nod, he unhooks it, gently pulling the straps down your arms, and tossing it somewhere you don't see.

Coriolanus lets out a grunt at the sight of your pretty breasts, bare for him. He kneads one experimentally, and you let out a noise of satisfaction. He smirks at your reaction, before stopping the ministration entirely. Instead, he sweeps you up, into his arms, carrying you over to his bed, gently settling you down in the center of it.

Clambering onto the bed next to you, he slips his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, meeting your eyes, searching for approval to remove them. When you nodded with a smile, he pulls them down your legs. Once they are fully removed, he spreads your thighs apart, revealing your glistening cunt to him.

He groans at the sight, and gently sweeps a finger through your folds, gathering your slick on the digit. He pops the digit into his mouth, making a noise of pleasure at the taste of you. That makes you gush a little more, pleased that Coriolanus likes the way you taste.

"Please, Coryo." You plead, "Take me. I'm yours. Please." You see him think for a moment, before climbing over top of you, muscular forearms holding him from crushing you with his weight.

"Oh darling, you are all mine. I can't wait to feel my tight little pussy clenching for me. Mine." He whispers hotly in your ear.

You grab his cock, pumping it a few times, then position the head at your entrance for him, and meet his eyes. He thrusts in, harder than you expected, immediately bumping into your cervix. You both let out noises of pleasure, overwhelmed with the feeling of one another. He begins thrusting rapidly, grunting at your slick coating his cock.

You were squeezing him like a vice, and he didn't want to embarrass himself by coming too quickly, before you could even meet your own end. He angled his hips, and slammed directly into the spot deep inside of you that had you seeing stars. You screamed, rapidly approaching your orgasm at the feeling of his dick stretching you out, slamming into your g-spot roughly.

Reaching a hand down your body, you rubbed at your clit roughly, and you feel your peak approaching. "Coryo!" You moan, "I'm so close. I need to come."

"I am close as well, my sweet. I promise, I will make you feel oh so good. Come for me" He smirks, continuing to pound into your tight heat.

"Oh! Coryo!" You scream, coming undone on his cock, your spend quickly forming a frothy circle around his dick as he continued driving into you, attempting to reach his own end.

"Please, come inside." You whimper out, and that was all he needed, spurting deep inside of you. You begin to feel faint from the overstimulation, but you fight it, and Coriolanus pulls out of you gently, the mix of your spend and his spilling out, onto your thighs and onto the bed sheets.

He climbed off of you, rolling you onto your side, before pulling you to his close, your back to his chest. You were both breathing heavily, and laid in silence for several minutes, until your breathing returned to normal.

"That was a perfect thank you, my future wife." Coriolanus whispers into your ear as you cuddle, basking in the after glow of your activities.

"I'm glad, my future husband. Thank you for everything you said today, Coryo. I mean it. I would probably be on the train right now, going to district two, if it wasn't for you, and your intelligent brain." You say, pressing back closer to him.

"It was no problem, my sweet. I knew I couldn't let that Plinth boy take you away from me, because of his own stupidity. That isn't your fault, and trust me when I say, the Plinth family will be dealt with." He tells you, eyes narrowing in anger.

"It's alright, Coryo." You attempt to soothe him, turning slightly to press a kiss to his sweaty chest, and he grunts back at you. "I'm still here, with you, my darling. There is nothing to deal with, I promise."

"He tried to take you from me. He knew I liked you, and lied to his father, to get rid of you. He thought by getting rid of you, he could get to me, without another in the way." Coriolanus tells you, and you gasp in shock. You didn't want to believe the words that were just spoken, but it wouldn't surprise you.

You knew Sejanus wanted more of Coriolanus' friendship than he had, and it didn't surprise you that he thought you were in the way of that. Sejanus was friends with both of you, or so you thought. He knew that his one best friend liked his other friend, and so he sought to destroy it. How truly awful.

"Oh, Coriolanus. I wish you had just told me that you liked me, rather than keep it a secret. Maybe this wouldn't have had to happen like this." You tell him, reaching a hand up to ruffle his curls. "I'm just glad you were there today, and defended me. I am no rebel, you know that." You giggled, continuing to run your fingers through his curls.

"You are a rebel, you are my rebel." He tells you, leaning into your touch. You blush at his words, before letting out another giggle.

You may not be the anti-Capitol rebel that the Plinths tried to pin you as, but you were a rebel in the way you loved Coriolanus Snow without a care in the world, money be damned. And that rebellious love that Coriolanus was able to tame was the only thing that mattered.

©keeplcving 2024. please let me know what you think, and feel free to send me requests! :) i’d love to write more of what y’all would like to see!!

Everyday is a new opportunity to draw some cursed crap

coriolanus who would hold your hand when you studied, keeping you focused.

coriolanus who would read you the words in your textbook so you didn’t have to read then take notes.

coriolanus who needed to eat disgusting food until you showed up and fed him before he got to school.

coriolanus who was top of all his classes and the most clever boy you ever met.

coriolanus who you had a crush on.

coriolanus who took you out to see the stars because he couldn’t afford anything else.

coriolanus who slept with a stuffie.

to…

coriolanus who ruled with an iron fist.

coriolanus who cheated in the hunger games then clawed his way back to the top.

coriolanus who came back not a boy, but an unrecognizable man.

coriolanus who became his father.

coriolanus who killed many.

coriolanus who used his power against others.

coriolanus who continued the very games that ruined him.

coriolanus who came back on top.

What do you think happened to Snows plushie after he became what he became?

UUUUGH MY HEART 😭😭

i think he either hid it somewhere, keeping it safe and prized to remember his past.

OR

he gave it to his future child.

OORR

he threw it away. no need to remember something so weak. 💔

As If Destiny (part fourteen)🌹

Part 13🌹

A/N: it's been a hot minute, I'm sorry! I was swamped with AP tests and all that nonsense so I haven't had time (or mental capacity) to write. But I have cooked up something! Is it good? Well isn't that up to you dear reader? I hope you enjoy it and forgive me for the wait (and spolier: no coryo😔)! much love!!

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"You look horrible."

You would have retorted to Arachne's comment, but it was true. You did look horrible, and Arachne was blurry. Watching the world speed by in a blur wasn't a concern until you turned your head from the window and the mediocre train car was hazy splotches of color.

"And you look like a pale orb."

Your mind was being split with a migraine, and it felt as if the flood was rushing to your brain, even though you were sitting straight up. These symptoms, which included chills even in the heat-packed train car, had suddenly overtaken you. You played it off as motion sickness because you had no other reason to believe otherwise. Arachne was not so convinced, but she kept her suspicions to herself.

"Well, at least lay down before you hurl on my shoes. I really like this pair."

Your response came in a series of grunts and grumbles as you covered your face when the pain intensified. Arachne closed her leather-bound book while concern broke through her stone-faced expression. You leaned your head back against the headrest as you opened your eyes only to shut them out of the burning pain that accompanied the light.

"Where am I going to lay down exactly? There isn't enough room on these seats."

Ara rolled her chestnut eyes, a motion you obviously missed but could so tangibly feel.

"There is a real innovative mechanism called laying on the floor."

The words were surprising enough that you dealt with the pain as you peeled your eyes open enough for a dubious squint at your friend.

"I didn't even know you knew that concept existed."

You awarded the reason why you narrowly missed the midnight-colored book Arachne threw at you to your natural instincts rather than the still hazed vision of yours.

"Hey, damsel in distress here! A few days out of the Capital and you've lost all sense!"

Your most posh and eloquent voice was composed by the little giggles and breaks as you teased the redhead. She watched on as your joy was interrupted by a fresh wave of pain, earning the otherwise silent car a few winces. Arachne got up, walked straight across to you, and peeled one hand off the side of your skull.

"You're District now, Ace. Get comfortable with the uncomfortable."

She led your throbbing body gently to the ground. You thought she would step back to her original seating, yet Arachne has been one for surprises lately. As the pain washed backward into your mind, your eyes stared straight up at the beige ceiling of the car even with the squirming and huffs of Arachne filling your right ear.

You held in your laughter in paralysis for as many moments you could grasp before they broke through their capture within your throat. Your eyes were still trained on the ceiling as your body rattled with laughter at the clear discomfort and possible regret radiating off Arachne's body.

"Somebody is clearly feeling better." Arachne's reply was a sour grumble, but you joyfully met it with a blinding smile in her direction.

"Oh, but how could I not when the Arachne Crane is willing to lay on the atrocious floor for silly old me—OW! Stop attacking me!"

Well, and of course, the only natural reply was yet another slap to your abdomen from the smirking redhead.

The two of you stared up at the ceiling in an air of harmony. Silence has been more foe than friend in recent times, yet in those moments of peace, it was a readily accepted companion. Your eyes were strained at the ceiling, ears to the rumble of the tracks beneath you, and your heart was not with you but in shreds somewhere in District Eight. You closed your eyelids against the thought, but it reached into every corner of your mind and being. Though, before you could physically beat it out of you, the train began to slow.

Arachne was quick to get up and confirmed your arrival with astonishment capturing her pale features. You sat up and used your friend's outstretched hand to pull yourself up, catching a glimpse outside the window.

The train station was littered with a sullen and soot-covered population fluttering around. The distance was consumed by coal mines and smoke painting the sky a sickly shade of abuse. Grey was the only word to describe what crossed your vision. The sky, atmosphere, and people.

Both you and Arachne stepped outside and seemingly into your pasts. The hunger in the eyes. Paleness of the workers' skin. Ever-present tears latching onto the populace's eyes. It was a scene you and Arachne were all too familiar with. Before you, district-born citizens shifted into long-dead Capital residents. You were no longer the woman you forged yourself into but that little scared girl. The grey was not from the coal but rather the gloom of expired misery.

"Come on, Ace."

Arachne's voice was soft as her eyes trained on your vacant face. She lightly nudged you towards the direction of the transport cars for the rest of the scientists and peacekeepers. Your footsteps felt like molds within cement as you made your way across the train platform.

It was all in due time, you think. Every experience you've ever had with trains was all in regards to this district in which you now inhabit. District Twelve seems to be the only certainty within your life.

Nothing but pure curiosity flowed through you as the transport car made its way to the base. The sky was prepared for storms, causing the color to match the houses, yet the trees from the midway forest stood out. No matter how many faces or buildings you passed, your eyes were trained on the woods. Woods that held such deep secrets. And bodies.

The base was a large complex of several buildings as well as a series of courtyards currently filled with training peacekeepers. You and Arachne made your way into the main building and were impressed. Not by any architectural feats but the lack of pearly marble the Capital prides itself in.

You and your assessing companion had to split up into two different lines for registration, although you both would be filling the same role as researchers here. Arachne made her way to the front of the alphabet while you settled into the section for the latter half. You had a good while before you reached the registration table, so you spent your time once again analyzing your surroundings.

The area was far greener than the area surrounding the train station. The thought of how the foresters' area must look when the sun shines crossed your mind. Brightness in Twelve invariably shifted your thoughts to Lucy Gray Baird. Casca Highbottom was a cruel man, but would he add to the fresh scars of the underdog winner? Unbeknownst to you, your thoughts were painted crystal clear upon your face.

"If you are planning an escape route from here, I would recommend the trees."

Your trance was broken by a smooth voice. You spun around and were met with glistening hazel eyes belonging to an admittedly handsome man with freshly buzzed hair. Just one simple statement and reality was crashing hard around you as the realization that all of the past days' events were real.

You were disowned, outcast, and banished to the District that martyred your family and its sanity. Unfortunately, the silence that was a byproduct of your epiphanies was mistaken as disregard by the striking man. His smile turned shy while an awkward laugh escaped him.

“Uhm, that wasn’t very specific, was it? I am still getting used to the forests surrounding me.”

The boy, who couldn't have been more than a year or two older than you, scratched his neck while he avoided eye contact with you. It finally dawned on you that an actual response is expected from you and this boy was the first human you've spoken to in the past few days besides Arachne. As much fondness you hold for her, it is refreshing to hear another voice. You looked directly at him and gave him a kind smile.

“I am going to have to get used to it as well, though the advice seems pretty sound. I’ll end up somewhere, even if it is in a circle.”

His hazel eyes snapped back to yours as soon as he heard your voice (fortunately) not belittling him or insulting his awkward statements. The line moved up a handful of people in the span of your miniature conversation. You walked forward along with the line and when you turned back to face the brunette, your faces were mere inches apart.

Your eyes met his hazel ones as you hastily backed up in panic as you sought your rings to provide you comfort. Now, you were the one avoiding eye contact and coughing while trying to rid yourself of your reddened cheeks. Accident or not, the proximity felt like yet another reminder of your new twenty years of loneliness. Or possibly less, as Arachne tries her best to convince you.

“Uhm, I - I am so sorry! There was someone moving past me and I tried to make room and—”

“It’s okay, I promise.”

He was clearly sweet and shy, although a bit graceless. Though it wouldn't be too bad to make some friends in your home for the next three years. His cheeks burned with unbearable heat as he tried to move past the prior fumble between the two of you.

“Well, those are beautiful rings.”

You had completely forgotten about the jewelry you still had been messing with to calm your nerves. Your eyes moved to look at the one you currently had your ring finger looped through, and it was no surprise to see the riveting snowflakes shine in the fluorescent lights. Though you tried to fight it off, somberness overtook you, but you were able to manage a timid thank you as you were hypnotized by the ring filled with promises of the past. Unfortunately, the poor boy couldn't help but continue the unintentionally one sided conversation.

"You must be from the Capitol."

After mentally cursing yourself for losing your attention again, your eyebrows scrunched in curiosity at the boy's quick assumption.

"Am I so obvious?"

Your voice was a mixture of astonishment and vulnerability. Worries about standing out like a sore thumb and what consequences that might result in began poisoning your mind but were slightly calmed by this odd boy's laugh.

"I haven't been here long, but even I know that people in Twelve don't have jewelry like that. Plus, most scientists here are from the Capitol, so it was easy to guess. Not to mention other—uhm—attributes."

The last note was a bit peculiar but was easily surpassed by embarrassment. You hid your face behind your hands as you groaned in mortification.

"Ugh, you must think me vapid and insolent!"

Only a few more aspiring scientists and Peacekeepers stood between you and the table now, yet your eyes were still covered in humiliation that was only intensified by yet another chuckle from the boy.

"Yeah, no, out here in the Districts, we don't use those words either."

Yet another groan rumbled through your throat as you tried to fuse your hands to your face. However, your plans were foiled as a light shoulder bump sparked intrigue. Those hazel eyes were the first sight to grace the world outside your palms, and the second was his tender smile.

"Don't worry too much. Just hide your clearly expensive rings and steer away from words straight out of a dictionary. Do they make you guys recite from the dictionary out there? Give me five synonyms for embarrassed. Oh, wait, no—did I just accidentally insult the Capitol?"

And like that, the dread that had overcome you began melting off as you earned a chuckle of your own, which he met with a charming grin, although the concern about his possible offense made it slightly tense. You quickly tucked your rings beneath your shirt and scribbled a reminder into your brain to find new articles to fidget with.

"You know what? Some might be studying it as much as our textbooks for increasingly niche words to insult others."

There was only a girl in front of you now with dark red hair and freckled skin as you and your companion giggled. He was the first to stop as he looked to you for confirmation that he wouldn’t be hanged for laughing at Capitol residents, albeit with one of their own. A sweet silence accompanied you both when you looked up at the taller boy in interest.

"Well, now since you know where I am from, it's only fair I get to know the same about you."

A look of longing and sadness swam through his earth-toned eyes. He looked off into the distance while squaring his shoulders as if to carry mountains of weight upon them.

"Two."

You had always been good with words, but they failed you at that moment. Not only did Sejanus race through your mind, but his fallen friend turned tribute, Marcus. Was there any chance that this boy knew either of them?

"Next!"

Your gaze met once more, but all further inquiries ceased as an opening appeared in front of a middle-aged blonde woman with deep brown eyes. No time could be wasted in any aspect related to the Capitol, so you swallowed your curiosity and made your way forward. Though you never did get the boy's name.

The woman looked exhausted from clear years of service, and her voice only added to her evident exasperation. She asked the expected questions of what your name was and took your fingerprints as she gave you several forms to fill out while her head remained down, writing furiously at a stack of papers.

"Y/N Vaun, ma'am."

While you knew your surname was infamous in the Capitol, you were shocked at the sudden movement of the woman’s head upwards. Seconds passed as her gaze just burned into your being while you could do nothing more than avert your own sight elsewhere. The woman quickly regained her professionalism and swiftly retrieved a small, pristine white envelope. The texture was fine and could be from nowhere else than the Capitol. A claim supported by the evidently formal handwriting on the front displaying your name.

"It's an honor to have you here, Miss Vaun. You must be something special; that letter comes straight from Casca Highbottom."

The man's name was enough for you to stop all movement. Your fingers paused, your breathing ceased, and your eyes froze in place. Of course, the Hunger Games creator wasn't done playing games with you yet. Yet, if there was one thing you needed to master to survive here, it was a facade. So, you swallowed your anguish and gave a polite smile as you finished up all your forms.

You flew through them, especially compared to a young black-haired and tanned boy next to you who was one of the many illiterate. Just as you finished the last signature and handed off to the aging woman, you noticed Arachne appear in the corner of your right eye. In the corner of your left, you searched for the hazel-eyed boy from before, though all searches were fruitless as he was nowhere to be found. You grabbed your uniform, ID, and other important papers and made your way to your friend, and thankfully, bunkmate, as Capitol researchers only had to share their rooms with one other peer.

"Getting bribes already, Ace?"

Arachne joked as she nodded towards the pearly envelope that stood out from your other items. You responded with a swift jab to the side and a loud "hush!" The look in your eyes was quickly understood by the redhead to stall any further questioning till the hopefully, safety of your room.

You both walked out into the central courtyard and made your way to the scientist quarters in the west, opposite the Peacekeeper quarters in the east. You watched a regiment of the latter-mentioned group run past the two of you, guns in clear sight causing anxious breaths to ripple through your lungs.

Though, you attempted to remind yourself that you were seen as one of them. Not a threat. Due to the events of the past week, it had been hard not to keep an eye out over your shoulder. However, the arrival to your room was smooth and as soon as your door was shut, you wasted no time before throwing Arachne the envelope, which she caught swiftly. You let her examine it for herself as you looked around the room that you would be calling refuge for the next 36 months.

It was small yet not cramped. The walls were a bland grey and the floor cold cement. Directly opposite the door was a central window that pointed towards the woods, as your room was in the back of the housing complex. You threw yourself down on the right grey and metal-wired bed, leaving Arachne to settle into the one across as she grappled with the paper within her hands.

"Congrats, you are officially his number one favorite victim to mess with."

Your groans of frustration were confirmation that Arachne’s words were far from helpful. You got up from your sitting position and snatched the envelope out of her hands and began pacing back and forth. Whatever was in the envelope, it wasn’t good.

"Maybe he felt generous and gave you some money. Or a postcard from your home that he banished you from. Or maybe some spare morphling—oh, who are we kidding?"

You leveled her with a glare of equal disappointment.

"That was unnecessary and cruel."

"Just like the Hunger Games, right?"

Her words were a surprise, no doubt, but Arachne is full of them nowadays. She is District Twelve after all. And willingly! You looked down at the handwriting of the Games' inventor and huffed. Might as well get it over with.

In one expeditious movement, you ripped the envelope open and pulled out the equally as extravagant paper from its hiding place. You couldn’t resist the urge to quickly unfold the paper and read it in an instant. In all truth, that was all it took to read the articles of the letter.

It was a truth Arachne quickly found out after your scoff that piqued her intrigue even further as she made her way to read over your shoulder. Then it was her turn to scoff at the words written. You stood in place, rereading the letter’s contents over and over again while she walked over to the window.

"Just to be clear, he only hates you and Coriolanus because you look like your dead parents?"

Your bitter laugh was a sign enough of the ridiculousness of this whole situation and the cruelty of Casca Highbottom. No matter the reason, it was only fact that Dean Highbottom wished hell upon Coriolanus Snow and, by association and loyalty, you. Your eyes trained upon the words once more as you tried to make sense of them.

South of society and North of the reminders. The woods are full of blood's secrets.

You make your way to Arachne’s post by the window. Looking out to the rows and rows of trees, whether fortunately or not, the meaning of the words opened up in your mind. You turned your head to Arachne, who was already looking your way, and had a smile of exasperation upon your lips yet mischief in your eyes.

She already began shaking her head against whatever idea you concocted. Letter in hand and dread in place, you try to poke at the last bit of light you can grasp.

"Ready to take a hike?”

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It was mid-afternoon, and the sun began slowly breaking apart the clouds as you trekked through the woods, a disgruntled Arachne following.

“Of all the districts, you just had to be sent here?” She grumbled rhetorically while smacking a branch harshly out of her frowning face.

You were ahead of her, trying to analyze your surroundings for any type of so-called “reminders.” A small blade was in your hand as your focus centered on the plethora of tree trunks. You had no idea what you were looking for, but you knew Dean Highbottom. If there was one joy in the man’s desolate life, it was using the dead to torture the living. Ghost stories were his favorite pastime.

Your family's ghosts lived within these woods. Their blood became the fertilizer of the sturdy trees. The rabbit hole within your mind brought you nothing but fury until you were the one throwing all caution to the wind as you hit branches and cut trees in your way. The turn in your behavior was picked up instantly by Arachne, who rushed to your side, narrowly avoiding tripping twice. She gently put a hand on an outstretched forearm and forced you to look at her.

Not a single word came out of her mouth. Only patience radiated off of her as she waited for your explanation to ease her worries. You huffed as you looked up to force the tears inside.

“I know who I am going to find and what he has become.”

No name was mentioned, and there was no need. Arachne had also suspected Highbottom's ploy. Otto Vaun had been butchered with these very trees, and hard physical proof of your brother's death was the punishment you were sent to Twelve for. Arachne wasn't often someone people looked to for comfort, nor did she wish to be. However, after finally reconnecting with you, she wanted to be at least somewhat of a pillar of solace.

She went in for an attempt at a hug until you were saved from her unpracticed embrace when her eyes caught onto something strange. Arachne lightly gasped, causing you to follow her line of sight, and strange no longer became the right word. Sinister was the only description you felt fit.

A thick tree stood in contrast to all those surrounding it as its bark was not the casual brown it ought to be but rather a dismal grey. In the center of it was a charcoal black outline of a body, and upon closer inspection, bodies due to the varying lines around the arms and head. Upon the sides were fingernail marks clawing at the bark in deep grooves. It did not even smell like the rest, but rather of fatality.

Stillness and silence overtook the woods as you and Arachne were hypnotized by the macabre display. The pair of you were so fully absorbed that a movement was heard in the leaves, and you were on high alert. You quickly readied your blade and scanned your eyes over the area. You were unsure of which though horrified you most: a possible Peacekeeper who would rat you out for your unsupervised and unapproved excursion or an unfriendly local.

The sound began jumping from area to area along with your heart rate as you couldn’t stop your head from continually swiveling. It came continually closer, which naturally pushed you and Arachne back to the base of the grotesque tree.

You felt it hit your back, causing you to turn and feel the panic and fear of the sight all over again as you let out a small scream.

You stumbled back from the burnt bark only to be met with the source of your initial fright, a little brown rabbit who quickly hopped away at your appearance. Yet another small yelp of surprise pushed past your lips, causing Arachne to laugh as she stepped towards you.

“How you survived the arena, I don’t understand.”

Your arm was already instinctively pulling back to land a punch on her arm when a voice appeared from the leaves above you, causing the taunting girl to scream herself. Hypocrite.

“I knew you weren’t from the Seam! Too jumpy.”

A young yet self-assured voice spoke. The voice belonged to a young girl with dark curly hair, tan skin, and eyes that felt all too familiar. However, your interest was quickly recaptured as another girl appeared and voiced her opinions.

“If it makes you feel better, I said you were too pretty to be from the Seam.”

This girl’s voice was sweet and honey-like, reminding you of a certain charismatic singer and victor. The two girls, who seemed to be around 12, got themselves comfortable and fully visible as they sat upon some branches.

The one with curly hair was wearing a pair of dusty dark brown pants paired with a worn-out dusty blue blouse. Her blonde companion was dressed in a colorful textured pink and white maxi skirt with a baby blue blouse as well. You stared at them curiously while Arachne was in her natural state of suspicion and intimidation. The pair stared down at you expectantly, and when neither you nor Arachne spoke, their eyes lit up as rapid-fire questions were asked.

“So where are you from?!”

“How did you get here?”

“Have you been to any other districts?! What are they like?!”

“Why are you here?”

“Are you guys friends too?! Have you ever been to the Capitol?! Ooo are you from the Capitol?!”

“No way, look at the scars on her neck. That doesn’t happen in the Capitol.”

You had no control as your hand involuntarily covered the aforementioned scars. Arachne didn’t like this one bit and couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

“You know nothing about the Capitol.”

The possibility of even just one of you being from the Capitol should have caused the girls to take heed and for them to leave when they could. But the pair weren’t known for their social awareness.

The girl of certainty jumped down, quickly followed by her sweet-smiled friend. You just watched as she walked towards you and no matter how fast your reflexes, you were too stunned to stop the girl from poking your forehead. She moved away immediately, yet you swatted the vacant air, staring at her for some sort of explanation that might somehow excuse the odd action. She shrugged as if it was completely normal.

“My dad sees fake people all the time. I thought maybe I could too!”

The excitement in her voice did nothing to reason her appearance rationally. You’ve only ever met two other District Twelve locals, and they were Jessup and Lucy Gray. Jessup's silence was understandable, and you excused Lucy Gray's oddities due to her Covey affiliation, but now you are starting to think this is normal District behavior. If so, the next three years are going to be something.

It was then that the blonde noticed the forgotten letter in your grasp.

“Ooo, what's in the letter?!”

You cleared your throat and tried to move past their questioning to ask some of your own. You nodded toward the tree with the ghastly marks. The two looked at it as if it was not different than the rest until it clicked in their head. They began speaking over each other until the one with familiar eyes began explaining.

“Ah, it's one of my favorite relics - that’s the right word, right?” She looked to her friend for confirmation, who giddily nodded her head. Both you and Arachne shared a look: this was going to be an interesting tale.

“Back in the war, the Capitol wasn’t good at dealing with the woods, so they started burning them down! The poor birds. So our soldiers got fed up, and whenever they got the chance, they tied them and did the same thing!”

Her ecstatic voice got you both lost as you tried to assure what she was saying. In addition, you started oddly feeling ice prickling your skin, yet there was no change on the surface. The local picked up on your confusion and was quick to confirm your suspicions.

“They sent them in flames! But you know what's funny? This tree outlived them all hahaha!”

Arachne was able to swallow the brutal practice easier than you, muttering something about “poetic irony.” She turned to gauge your reaction and instantly snapped into action.

Your eyes became glossed over, looking more like ice than your normally lively eyes. Your skin paled, and you were shivering. The second Arachne grabbed a hold of you, you fully lost consciousness.

“Was it the talk about fire or trees?” the dark-haired girl asked casually and was swiftly smacked upon her neck by her friend.

“You killed her! We are so going to be next! Rowan!”

The girl-Rowan, tried to play it off with a scoff and shake of her head.

“I didn't kill her! It's allergy season!”

Arachne was done with both of their likely endless banter and snapped orders.

“Stop bickering! Call someone and now!”

The two looked at your still-shaking body and swallowed. The blonde, who was still nameless to the two of you, turned to her friend in urgency.

“Go call your brother!”

Rowan was immediately against that as the fear overtook her eyes.

“No, absolutely not! Go call your sister! He will kill me if he found out!”

“They both will kill us when they figure out we actually did commit murder!”

Arachne was impatient and more than irritated at their lack of urgency.

“I will be the one committing murder if one of you doesn't alert someone immediately.”

Yet again, they turned to each other and pointed.

“Rowan, go!”

“Maude Ivory, go!”

Then, to the relief of Arachne's blood pressure, a man who looked only a few years older than you appeared, carrying what looked like a handmade bow and a quiver of arrows.

He noticed the two screaming girls first as he addressed them.

"What have I told you guys about yelling in the woods? Someone will find you—”

The words died on his tongue as he took in your cold and shivering body. Arachne, like anyone else, assumed the shock was from seeing an unconscious body on the floor. Yet, Rowan wasn’t unknown to the man and had been feeling some sort of connection to you.

“Wait, yeah! She does look like—”

“What did you guys do now?!”

The panic was evident in the dark-haired man as he tried to think of ways to explain the situation if any Peacekeepers were to walk upon them. The tone in his voice was warning enough not to press it, but the girls never really cared for warning labels.

“We were curious! We’ve never seen her before and she doesn’t look from Twelve! I think she is from one or two.”

Rowan exclaimed while Maude Ivory's voice was quick to refute.

“I think she is from the Capitol!”

“You better pray we aren’t!”

It was then that the three of them remembered or noticed that Arachne was sitting right there, cradling your body that had stopped shivering yet was ice cold. She felt for your pulse once more and it was slow, far too slow. The look evident in Arachne’s chestnut orbs translated the severity of the situation and was all the man needed to start moving. He crouched beside your body still within Arachne’s arms. He gestured to take your body but the Capitol girl was hesitant.

“We are researchers at the base, it would be safer to take her there.”

Just the mention of the base had the man shaking his dark unruly locks in opposition. He emphasized to Arachne that she had already broken several of their rigid rules by going out into the woods without proper training yet. Self-preservation was also a factor in his case because, well, he wasn’t the most favored person in the District. Arachne wasn’t sure why she agreed to let him take you back to his nearby cabin, yet here the five of you were.

The man sprinted to the cabin, busting open the door in the process. He set you upon an elevated cot while directing orders to the young girls. Maude Ivory was to grab a tin to start a small fire and Rowan to grab all blankets and thick material possible.

Arachne was never medically gifted so she stood out of the way while the house was enveloped in panic. The man was steady as he continued to check your pulse and ensure your chest was still rising. Maude Ivory and Rowan both returned with their allotted tasks completed, seemingly always in perfect synchrony.

Once both girls returned, he made eye contact with Arachne and ordered her to continue checking your well-being. He stepped into a small kitchen just opposite the room you were set in. Arachne could only assume that it was a living room of sorts yet the cot made her think it was also a bedroom.

She sat beside you while the girls tried to ensure you were warm and took in the state of the house. It was messy, small, and unorganized. There was dirt on the floor, leaves stuck within the cracks, mud on all the surfaces. But what caught Arachne’s attention were the tens of varying colored and shaped papers posted upon the wood walls.

The man quickly returned with an odd-colored tea and a towel, quickly dabbing it inside the tea and placing it upon your forehead. The redhead was subconsciously making her way to the decorated wall and was met with messy yet intricately detailed drawings. Her eyes scanned each one, bafflement exceeding the prior. It was only when she landed on a drawing that was of a woman Arachne knew all too well.

She whipped her head in the direction of the man, whose focus was still on you. Arachne kept her distance as her tone became just as icy as your being.

“Who exactly are you, white knight?”

Maude Ivory and Rowan both cocked their heads at your words while the man only creased his eyebrows, puzzled by her words. She took a calculated step forward and the Arachne Crane of only a few weeks ago came back alive. Arachne didn’t appreciate being played and that dislike extended to people playing with you. Though any interrogation was silenced as you began waking up.

Your eyes fluttered open and as soon as reality hit you, you picked your head up only to smash it back down in frustration. The move immediately frightened the suspicious man and Arachne, who rushed to your bedside to ensure you wouldn’t do the same move. You were quick to smack their hands away from you as you sat up, clearly displeased with the past events.

“I’m fine, I don’t need to lie down! I’m sick of being sick.”

Arachne rolled her eyes at your lack of self-concern while the man’s brown eyes creased in bewilderment. You looked around and noticed the prior two girls and the room, this likely being their home. It suddenly hit you that the man was a new addition to your little group. You nodded to him and gave a quick “nice to meet you,” seemingly unfazed.

After examining you herself, Arachne decided you were good enough to make the trek back and as far away from the man as possible. She pulled your arm harshly, causing you to stumble from the layers of blankets and clothing upon your now warm body. The force caused your necklace of rings to fly out of your shirt as well as nearly smashing into yet another man who just appeared.

This one was much older, hair already graying and eyes sullen. His skin was scarred and calloused. He didn’t smell much better than he looked. However, as your eyes connected, you noticed a similarity. A memory. The detail struck you both as he gasped.

You feared you did something or possibly hurt him so you started checking for wounds when his dry hand reached out and gently lifted your chin upwards to his now glossy and pooling eyes. His eyes mirrored yours in shade, a similarity you’ve never shared with anyone besides your own blood. He took you in as tears were let out, his hands shaking with the force of his sobs. Your mind was flooded with theories and questions, all of which you didn’t know what to make of.

You felt a cold metal on the side of your face and gently took his right hand away to reject an insane possibility screaming within your mind. Though, as you looked down at his hand, all of reality crashed down along with your knees. It can’t be possible. It cannot be possible.

The man followed you to the floor, the both of you crouched and you joined his crying. You pulled your necklace up to his finger. Side by side, two rings, of a lost era, proudly displayed the house of which you were the only remnant. Or so you believed.

A stag with vines surrounding was the notorious family crest of the Embridges. Your mother’s family. You looked back into the man’s eyes and he was no longer just a man.

“Uncle Alreic?”

You felt the air being ripped out of your lungs as he crushed you within his embrace. He soaked your hair with tears and followed it with patting it down. Alreic rocked you back and forth as if he let go just a fraction you would disappear.

Time was no longer a concept as he held onto you and you had forgotten the spectators until the young man with dark curls crouched beside you two. He lightly nudged Alreic’s body away from you until he could meet his eyes. You expected him to be upset but instead, his eyes lit up from their glossy state.

“Look Otto! Look, I told you you would see your mother again!”

Your breathing stopped but not because of a strong hug, but emotional destruction. You looked at the boy who was called Otto then back to the man who declared him such. It was then that you finally knew why Highbottom sent you here.

It would have been far too easy, far too gracious to let you off with just their graves. You have to deal with the resurrection of fatality’s pain.

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let me know what you guys think:)

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

As If Destiny (Part Fifteen)🌹

Part 14🌹

A/N: wow... it's almost like it's almost been 3 months and i have to be awake in 2 hours... not that's real huh... ANYWAYS! please lemme know what you think and much love:)

not very proof read!!

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You went numb. Your jaw clenched while your eyes squinted at the two in front of you. It was official: you must have gone as mad as Dr. Gaul. Your head was shaking vigorously as you backed away. The young man—so-called Otto—looked at you as if you were a fragile vase breaking apart, while the older—Alreic—paid your actions no mind, swallowed by exhilaration.

You couldn't take your eyes off Otto, an action he mirrored. The notorious Embridge eyes that you and your brother shared were not staring back at you. Arachne stepped toward you in concern, but you were quick to put a swift hand out, motioning for her to halt. Your gaze never left the young man, and with each passing second, he seemed to become more anxious, continually flicking his gaze back and forth between you and your uncle.

It has to be your uncle.

You can't afford to lose any last grip on your sanity on an increasingly possible vision. The Embridge house ring was dull but still shone brightly on his finger. You trailed your sight upwards, and every feature was just as you remembered, although in far rougher shape. The most damning evidence: a pair of identical eyes connected with your own. Wait.

This entire situation might have been a fragment of your imagination, but what you saw in front of you was subtle yet no doubt happening. Purple started seeping in from the outside of your uncle's irises and making its way to the pupil. His eyes were a beautiful horror.

"Rowan, take Maude Ivory and our guest outside. Now."

Otto emphasized the urgency in his tense expression, effectively leaving no room for opposition from the usually argumentative girl. He must have noticed the change in tandem. Rowan and Maude Ivory made their way to the door, albeit reluctantly, while Arachne stood still and defiant in response to the stranger’s orders. Chestnut eyes were trained on you while yours never left the amethysts growing in your uncle's irises. You nodded your head solemnly. The air felt stiff and still, only broken by the eventual movement of a hesitant Arachne out the door. As soon as the wood was shut, Otto wasted no time turning to you.

"Cloria, we need to go."

You refused to look at "Otto" as he urged your departure. Something was happening to the last of your family, and there was no way an imposter was going to stop you from finding out.

"That's not my name."

Your voice was dripping with malice directed towards Otto, but it sparked something in your uncle. His eyes were nearly coated in purple ink as they began assessing you.

"Your name is Cloria."

You sighed as a heavy burden set itself upon your shoulders. How do you tell a man that his entire family, save you, are with the wind? Yet again, what exactly has he been doing in the woods that his forces have been butchered in for the past 13 years? Your eyes softened, as did your voice, before it was cut in with one that was begging to burn agitation within you.

"Cloria, we really need to get going!"

There was a staunch emphasis on the name. You whipped your head to the boy as irritation clouded your judgment.

"And what exactly is your name?"

His eyes were now drowned in terror as they switched back to the purple ones of your uncle, who began glaring in skepticism. It was Uncle Alreic who was the one to beat the boy from speaking this time.

"Cloria, you know that is Otto."

Trepidation made its way down your throat as you stepped towards the rightful heir of House Embridge.

"Uncle Alreic—"

A hand harshly gripped your wrist as you were dragged away. There was no need to check the perpetrator as you burst your way out of his tight hold, positively fuming.

"Cloria—"

"I'm not Cloria!"

Your patience had been obliterated. Weeks of constant reminders and pity for your mother's passing, with the addition of the mess that was the Tenth Hunger Games, had broken you. You refused to be a playing piece in yet another one of Casca Highbottom's sick games. You stood face to face with the man who seemed to be the ultimate breaking point of your sanity. He reached for you again.

"You don't understand! Just go along with it for now!"

He whispered sharply as you dodged his attempt. You didn't trust him in the slightest, but the sincerity—and terror—in his eyes were not lies. Honest or not, you needed answers at once. Your mouth opened to retort when all noise became muffled ringing. When your vision cleared from the blackness of your previously shut eyes, horror closed the airways in your body upon the new sight. A fresh bullet in the wood. Only a centimeter away from your skull.

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It was just supposed to be a normal day. Well, the new “normal” the currently humming brunette was trying to get used to. The woods were understandably frightening to those not used to their depth and vastness. However, for the charming girl, it was a comfort. Just her, the birds, the trees, and the wind.

The several soaring birds above were whistling along with the young woman. Dressed in an off-white, flowy dress with a light, colorful embroidered shawl wrapped around her and stunning pink carnations in hand, she felt a peace that had been hard to find lately. The breeze brushed through her hair and lifted the worries off her shoulders. Looking ahead through the trees, an old and crumbling cottage came into view.

Wild vines and weeds had overtaken the feeble structure, covering up the shattered windows. But it wasn’t the cabin that had drawn the woman over. Rather, the slight clearing behind it. There sat three cracking and cheaply made gravestones with a new and well-made one situated farthest to the right. She dusted off her dress and cleared her throat as she lifted her skirt to kneel in front of the most recent addition to the small graveyard. Her hand traced over the letters engraved and downwards to the dirt. The previous bunch of flowers was beginning to decay, so she quickly added their replacement. Rays of the late evening sun amplified the beauty of the flowers’ pink hue. The young woman had a fascination with plants and flowers, especially with their meanings. The pink carnation was a sentimental favorite due to its symbolism of a vow to never forget the recipient. In this case, it was none other than Jesup Diggs.

“Still here.”

It was barely a whisper. Her hand began fumbling with the surrounding grass.

“He misses you a lot. We all do. The other day, Rowan made the finest arrow I’ve ever seen, and the first person she ran to tell was you until she remembered. Not even Otto. Though, I’m sure she scampered her way here to tell you already.”

The laugh was light and sorrowful. Every trip to visit hurt. She marked off the days, waiting for the one when her smile would be genuine. Her head turned upwards, and she noticed the sunlight waning through the branches. If she wanted to get home before sundown, then she needed to start making her way to her ultimate destination. The brunette assured the steadiness of the flowers once more and lifted herself up. Her hands brushed off the slightest coat of dirt beginning to form as she let out a huff and a weak smile.

“Thank you.”

With that hushed gratitude, the girl in the white dress began picking up speed through the woods. It didn’t take longer than a few minutes for yet another aging cottage to bloom into sight. The two young girls bickering were a familiar sight that brought no concern, although the same could not be said for the foreign woman standing nearby. As the white-dressed girl made it to the creaking porch, the red-headed stranger turned towards the new visitor. Her face was awfully familiar, yet the brunette couldn’t place her resemblance.

“Have we met before?”

The redhead had a light and mask-like smirk stretching across her pretty face. Her skin was pale, clean, and clear. An air of status projected off of her. Whoever she may be, she clearly wasn't from Twelve.

The foreigner was leaning on one of the mahogany porch posts and oddly seemed to relax at the inquisition.

"No matter. Everyone knows you, isn't that right, songbird?"

Maude Ivory and Rowan paused their back-and-forth for the odd exchange. The young eyes drifted from one to the other waiting girl. As the moment stretched on into an uncomfortable chokehold, Maude Ivory couldn’t handle it anymore.

“We found them in the woods!”

Her voice was high-pitched as she looked at the tan girl she called a sister. The blonde’s outburst was backed up by Rowan’s fervent nods behind her shoulder.

“Them?”

“Yeah, she’s in there with Otto and Dad right now. Otto kicked us out because Dad is acting weird again.”

This was news to the brunette. The introduction of two strangers who had garnered her sister's infatuation was not much of a surprise; she and Rowan spent their time listening in on all the local gossip and stories. One look towards the sharp gaze of the foreigner assured her that whoever her companion was, she must be from the same opulent land.

A land of opulence.

There was only one place in all of Panem that held that title.

The girl with auburn locks watched as the pieces connected in the deep brown eyes of the Hunger Games' newest winner. Just as soon as it was connected, it was shattered along with the wood beside your head. The gunshot ricocheted into the ears of the now petrified group. They were inside in an instant, never questioning their running towards gunfire.

Your eyes locked onto the hole that would have been inside your head if you had only moved the slightest bit more to the left. However, with four pairs of feet rushing towards the still-smoking scene, your gaze connected with the newest addition to the party.

“Lucy Gray?”

“Y/N?”

Otto, Rowan, and Maude Ivory were getting—or already had—blistering headaches with the number of twists that had happened in the short time span. Otto may have been taken off guard for a second, but that was all the time he could afford. He was quick to start demanding their evacuation. Unlike with you, he kept his eyes on the girls instead of Alreic as he tried to persuade them to safety.

You looked at Arachne. Tears swam in her eyes, along with emotions flickering far too fast to name. Your attention was ripped away from her as the sound of a gun being readied was heard. Otto turned his body to face the maddened Alreic while using his body to shield the three Twelve natives.

Alreic’s hands were shaking as his amethyst orbs twitched in and out of focus. His gun swiped through the air as it refocused its aim on you. The action could be argued as foolish, but you stood as still as stone as he took uncoordinated steps toward you. Otto was shouting at him to stop, each shout more pleading than the last, yet he refused to leave his post as a shield. You never looked away from the maddened man who once held you so tightly.

He could be anywhere in the world, for however long, have his eyes and behavior flip instantly, but you knew. You saw the shade before they changed. Eyes could distract, but they can never lie.

Your breathing was unrhythmic while your body shook from tension. The barrel of the gun was still scorching as it made its imprint on your forehead. You had never seen such a grotesque wonder like the eyes that burned their own marks into you.

“What have you done to Cloria, thief?”

His scabbed hands made their way to your necklace and pulled you impossibly closer to the barrel. The pain was searing from both the pressure and the burning gunpowder heat. Your fists began curling as your plan was being set into motion. As your silence stretched for too long, his patience stretched too thin. Your eyes tracked his finger’s movement to the trigger. He planned his aim, and so did you. Just as you moved your arm back and out into a cross swing, your fist met a different target.

Arachne stood to the side as she watched the gun meet your head. Her sensibility urged her to remain still, but rationality had no chance of winning this round. Arachne had watched the lights flicker out of your usually bright eyes once before. She had stood still far too long.

All the other present members in the room were too preoccupied to notice her quiet movement towards the long-abandoned tea. She slowly grabbed the metal tray beneath the pot and stalked her way behind the armed man. Just as you had, she watched his finger begin to close in on the trigger, and action was taken. Only the slightest moment before you, she whipped the rusty metal tray across the unwell man’s head, causing him to immediately collapse to the ground. You could fight fast, but were too slow to realize that your fist was hitting Arachne instead of Alreic. A series of screams echoed throughout the room: Arachne’s was a yelp of pain, yours a mixture of shock and regret, the rest were shouts of horror at the violent scene.

“The hell was that for?!”

Arachne’s voice was gruff as she turned, gripping her now-marked skin. The pain in your knuckles began making itself present as the adrenaline wore off.

“Me?! What did you think you were doing?”

“You just expected me to let you take the hit?!”

“Well, that is what you did last time.”

You and Arachne’s blaring squabble was interrupted by the sweet honey of Lucy Gray Baird’s voice. You both turned your heads to the singer as she looked at Arachne unimpressed. The scowl upon Arachne’s face was deadly, only enhanced by the black mark forming on the left side of her cheek. Otto was about to start throwing punches of his own out of frustration. There was just too much, too fast. Otto hated change and fuss—things that had happened constantly since you showed up. Muffled groans echoed off his calloused hands as he covered his face.

“Someone start talking.”

Rowan gave a sidelong glance toward her distressed brother before quietly addressing her own concerns.

“Is my dad going to be okay?”

Otto huffed lightly as he mumbled a soft, “Not you, Rowan.” You broke slightly at the wobbliness of her voice. You didn’t have much experience with kids—there weren’t many your age in the Capitol—but you were sure that seeing one’s father unconscious on the floor was rattling for anyone.

“He will be fine from the hit. Possible headaches or pain, but it’s not poisoning him.”

You deliberately added the last point to get Otto to start talking. Substance abuse is an ugly post-war scar many in the Capitol bear, so you knew it well. The violet hue of Alreic’s eyes practically spelled out his suffering.

“Morphling?” Arachne questioned as she took in the man’s sickly pale and sweating face. You were quick to refute, still waiting for the right person to start explaining.

“Can’t be. Morphling doesn’t create hallucinations or alter the iris.”

You bore into Otto’s fidgeting eyes as you knew your assumption was the grave truth.

“It is hallucinations, isn’t it?”

Otto was often a level-headed man. He was an observer and was satisfied with simple living. The personalities living within the cabin he called home may not be the easiest of individuals, but he wouldn’t change the way he chose to live his life. Even with all the demons that haunt the shadows along the walls and the eerily silent moments, Otto could live with all the baggage his loved ones, including the very man knocked out on the floor, carried. What he couldn’t handle was some stranger barging into his home and acting as if he was the invader.

“Surprised they don’t teach you to speak your mind in the Capitol, since you’re the ones who control the rest of ours.”

His voice was stoic and icy—the kind of tone that Rowan knew her brother only used when rage burned straight through his sensibility. Something must have occurred for him to speak to someone from the Capitol like that so clearly.

“Well, at least you could guess where I’m from, unlike my name—even though I said repeatedly I wasn’t Cloria.”

“If I told him any different, he would have attacked you!”

“I had a plan!”

“Oh, getting shot, Y/N?!”

“So you do know my name.”

The two of you were in a trance of hardened glares and clenched jaws. Neither one of you was willing to concede to the other. Even if he wasn’t related to you, you both shared an unhealthy amount of stubbornness.

Rowan noticed this similarity and figured you all would be standing there indefinitely if no one intervened. Besides, she was curious to see where this conversation was going.

“We know all your names. Yours, Cloria, your Aunt Floria. Otto, of course. There was also Crassus Snow, and what was his name? Cala? Oh! Casca Highbottom.”

The further along her list went, the more your tough exterior broke. You had a raging vendetta against the last man, but there was no doubt that you were broken because of Highbottom's actions—of what he stole.

You examined Rowan's oddly composed face and behavior. Her mother must have been a beautiful woman. Rowan inherited her lips, full nose, and adorable dimples. She had a light to her. It shone through her eyes, smile, and cheeks. That was fully Rowan.

But those eyes. Those were her father's. They were Embridge. She was Embridge. One of three in the room. One was you. One was your still-unconscious uncle. No room for the lies of “Otto.”

“So you decided to steal Otto's name?”

You could visibly see and figuratively feel the roots of his soft curls being pulled to their last strength. You didn't care. After all you’ve been through, you simply didn’t care about his frustration. You demanded answers, and you weren't going to abandon your chance.

“I didn't steal anything! I was given it. I earned it!”

“Earned it? Earned it?! There is nothing anyone can do to earn my brother's name!”

It was no secret how highly you held your brother and his memory. It is only natural for your old memories to become more favorable to Otto. You only remember the good, and all other protests to that image are incomprehensible.

It was a stubborn position that was rivaled only by the curly-haired man in front of you. He had had enough judgment from a stranger in his own home about a life you knew nothing about.

“The only thing I need to do to earn your brother's name is be a murderer.”

You flinched at his grave and final tone as your eyes brimmed with tears of frustration, anger, and a slight grief you could not submit to. But the man was not yet finished with blows.

“And what would you know about what I have done for your uncle? I have been here for the past nine years! Where were you? I took care of him when he was too intoxicated to function. Where were you?! I accepted the illusion he put on me because it gave him sanity when he had none left. I take care of him, his daughter, and the fragments of his memories. I am the one who is helping him recover. I am the one who feeds and cleans him. I am the one who has been here! WHERE WERE YOU?!”

His knuckles were white with burning rage at your condescension. He never wished for a different life. Perhaps a more improved version of the one he had, but never different. It was not one many would choose, but he would every time, no matter its difficulties. However, to have you saunter in as if he were a fraud was the last crack to break the dam. The dark eyes of the man glared at you, fully expecting you to lash right back but slightly deflated when tears streamed down your cheek. Your jaw was no longer set with offense but trembling along with your chapped lips. Your mouth opened and closed several times, unsure of what to say. What could you say besides the weak and airy “We—I—didn’t know”?

Lucy Gray stepped towards you with a sympathetic look of sorrow dancing in her orbs. Her hand graced your shoulder, but as soon as it touched, you backed away. Your eyes began glossing with ever-regenerating tears that clung to your lashes as you focused solely on the still cold form of your uncle. Arachne noticed that if she didn’t do something, you would slip away in sorrow.

“Y/N—”

“I—I didn’t know. We didn’t know. How did he?”

Your breaths were coming in fast and shallow as you started hyperventilating. Thoughts spiraled and spread while your fingers made their way through your hair out of stress. Arachne made her way to your side, but even in your own spiral, you were swift in evading her.

“Why didn’t he say? What could he possibly want?!” Your voice transformed from panicked whispers to an urgent shriek, fear and agony seeping in. “They would have tried to help! They would have come! Oh, Aunt Fiora! Oh!”

Otto watched in increasing discomfort. Whatever assumptions he had made of you were starting to look misplaced as you paced in a tight box formation, your hands moving downwards from your hair to your face. Red lines grew angrily across your features from your nails. Over and over. Grating your hardened keratin scratches madly at your own face.

Arachne ran to your uncharacteristically behaving form to stop any further irritation. After a combative struggle to capture your hands and keep them away from your face, Arachne had her own tears make an appearance.

Your repetitive attacks had caused silencing red lines to flow across and down your face—your beautiful and bright face, she thought. Arachne didn’t know if the heavy tears washing away the blood were a relief or fuel to the fire. If only you had a glimpse of yourself. You looked near identical to the last final moments of your Aunt Fiora—the one brought to madness by the death of the sleeping yet living man before you.

Chest heaving heavily, scratches burning, and existence crashing, you needed to leave immediately. Your feet planted you on the floor, even as your knees started to buckle from the weight of reality. Arachne forced your movement by dragging your arm, your dazed being following blindly. Her rapid steps were a force to be reckoned with, and one you could only clumsily follow as you were hauled past a troubled Lucy Gray and into the vast woods.

You made it far enough that you were covered by trees on all sides and no longer in view of the decrepit cabin when you collapsed once more. Your fingers traced the transformation of the dirt turning into mud beneath them. Arachne tried her best to comfort you by rubbing circles on your back, though she was painfully lacking experience. The sun began setting, casting an orange glow over your mirage of heartbreak. Somewhere through your sobs, you managed to pour out words that had been festering.

“I miss him so, so much.”

Arachne didn’t hesitate to continue her attempts at comfort as you continued to cry.

“Otto would be so proud of who you are.”

“I meant Coryo.”

The name caused pause in the redhead's hands and heart. You’ve just gone through so much, and you are thinking about him?

“He wou-would know what to do,” you choked out the words. “He would have known exactly what to do. I miss him so much.”

It was an understatement to you. It was more than longing. It was emptiness. A piece of your being forcibly amputated, leaving you unbalanced.

Your eyes were still a haze of blazing tears, trained on the darkening ground. With your back towards her, you missed Arachne’s own pain. She was always intelligent, cunning, and cold. So why did she become dumb, soft, and warm for the one whose heart would never skip a beat when she walked into a room? For the one who was happy before and after life without her? The one who, when they called out a name, it wasn’t hers.

She knew better than to let herself get hurt by your words. Arachne even actively tried to ensure anything but your love decaying. Yet, emotion was a parasite, and she couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

“You have me.”

Her tone was wounded, which caused you to turn around and squeeze her hand in thanks. Your eyes were bloodshot and foreign to her, but the warmth was there, albeit slightly distant.

“Thank you, Ara.”

It should have been enough. There was nothing more to it for you. But Arachne never stopped when it came to you.

“But I’m not the same.”

Arachne cursed herself for looking back at you. Watching the radiating snowflakes on the ring you fidgeted with shine daggers into her heart. Witnessing the confused frown etch itself on your face, waiting for a recognition of her meaning that never reached you.

“Why would you be the same?”

You didn’t mean to hurt her, a fact she knows far too well. Yet, it seems whenever you act with love, it only cuts her deeper—the specific adoration that will never be directed to her. Even with a sentence of decades away from you, your heart refuses to change its target of affection. She couldn’t trust her mouth to answer that question, afraid of what she might reveal and burn. Her saving grace came in the sweet honey voice of Lucy Gray.

“Y/N! Oh, there you are!” Her breath was haggard, and her hair tousled, clear signs of her rush to find you. “I am so sorry; he isn’t usually like that, I swear to you!”

“Which one exactly?” Your tone had a bite to it, foreign to your often sweet tongue. Lucy Gray flinched at your voice. You had already turned your back to start walking in the vague vicinity of the barracks.

“She isn’t usually like that either.” Arachne tried to defend you, which was understandable enough for the singer.

They both picked up their pace to catch up with your blazing trail. Lucy Gray was offering to walk you both back, to which you both agreed, albeit silently. You were not in the mood for conversation or company, but you knew that neither you nor Arachne had any idea where you were going. Tears still rolled down your face as you walked, but they were drying up as anger burned through them. Arachne slipped back into her usual impenetrable persona. Lucy Gray felt helpless.

“Highbottom told me what happened. What Coryo did.”

Your steps didn’t falter. Your eyes were cemented forward, the evening sun setting your skin alight. The last of your tears had dried upon your still-reddened cheeks.

“Saving your life?”

Lucy Gray knew she was stepping on shaky ground with you now, but she hoped from that night with Coriolanus that you were really the person he said you were. She treaded on with the conversation you clearly wanted no part of.

“He told me that he broke the rules, so they sent him to Eight.”

Arachne’s chestnut eyes bore into the side of your illuminated head, but you were stoic. It was frightening to her.

“So he is.”

Your voice was grated. Your scratches still burned against the open air. The ground beneath your feet even looked like it was breaking slightly more beneath the weight of your fury. You knew what Lucy Gray wanted to know. If you were in your right state of mind, you would never have been acting the way you were. Yet you couldn’t stop the parasite of emotion and pain from overtaking you. The brunette, perhaps foolishly, placed her hand upon your shoulder, causing you to stop and turn. Your sore and reddened eyes met her large and sympathetic ones. You didn’t throw off her hand.

“What did you do for him to get here?”

You flinched slightly. It was terrifying how this practical stranger knew of your sacrifice. You looked towards Arachne, who was lost in her own world of pain as it was yet another reminder of your relentless devotion to another. You sucked in a breath and looked back at the waiting girl.

“I told Highbottom I was the one who did it.”

You gently moved her hand off you and walked somberly on. The sun was getting ever closer to the ground, and you and Arachne needed to get back urgently. Lucy Gray stood there a moment as you and Arachne walked ahead. Coriolanus was not wrong about you.

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Dusk had overtaken the sky by the time you made it back to the barracks. You ushered a quick goodbye to Lucy Gray and returned to your room in unsteady silence with Arachne. She watched as you kept your head down to avoid any attention to your concerning appearance. However, she did notice a certain hazel-eyed Peacekeeper looking longer than the rest. Arachne cursed herself repeatedly in her head as you got ready for bed, completely mute. Why did she ever let you go? But then again, your ghosts would have found you anyway.

Darkness overtook your shared chambers as you both stared up at the ceiling. This wasn’t unexpected for Arachne. She hadn’t been able to sleep properly since the Dark Days. Not that anyone could tell. As with everything else, she was able to hide it well. Your mind swirled with the day’s events. You knew you needed to take the time to comprehend it all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. At least not alone. Not with anyone besides the platinum-haired boy who overtook your mind. For your entire life, you always thought of the person you loved the most before sleep. It was first your brother. His smile was what you woke up to for your entire life. Reality for the first few years. Memory for the rest. For a short time, it was your mother’s sweet words and warm hugs. Then it was him.

Images of his pearly white smile sleeping on the bug-infested floor of his crumbling apartment so you could get a semblance of comfort on his undersized bed were common and comforting. It hit you that you might one day forget the stench of cabbage that wafted through the ancient hallway of his home. That you might forget the cracks on the wall that created a mosaic that mesmerized you while you waited for him to get ready. You swore you would never forget him, and you wouldn’t. Couldn’t. But what if you forgot all the reasons you loved him and he you?

“You are going to see him again. I swear to you.”

Arachne’s voice was clear and authoritative, yet the most genuine you’d heard. She still didn’t look at you, even though she could feel your gaze. You said nothing and returned to your former position. Sleep overtook you as you thought of your very complicated Arachne.

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The next morning brought with it warm sun rays that cast shadows from the trees facing the light. You woke up before Arachne and got ready while she fidgeted in her sleep. Struggle was evident, and even in sleep, you could see the bags beneath her eyes. Unfortunately, you both needed to make good first impressions, even if those here were technically below your standing as Capitol citizens. A good thing that your scratches from yesterday healed significantly, now only slight lines. Arachne’s bruise was another story but her fierce gaze was more tha enough to silence questioning. Your main worry was getting to your orientation on time.

“Ara, time to wake up.” Absolutely nothing.

You could have tried a second time or lightly shaken her awake, but you were in the mood for some fun. Pillow in hand and grin on face, you started plummeting the poor girl with the feathered item until her shrieks were heard, followed by your laughter.

You backed off as you came face to face with her very grouchy glare, to which you could only innocently smile with all teeth showing.

“Glad to see you are the embodiment of sunshine again.”

“And same to see you as sour as a lemon. Your nice act freaked me out.”

You settled back on your made bed as she got up and ready. She gave you a light snarl, which you took proudly. After yesterday’s events, you were unsure where you stood with her or really anyone. But to your relief, Arachne was willing to let it go for now and get back to your rekindled friendship, which came along with its fold of bickering and friendly taunts.

The two of you were eating your breakfast in the cafeteria—well, Arachne was trying to.

“Stop picking at it, Ara. Just close your eyes and suck it up.”

Looking at the gray gooey substance that was supposed to pass as nutrients, even you were slightly unsure.

“I think it might suck me up instead.”

You were going to retort with another plea for her to eat her food when a tray setting down next to you was heard. The hazel-eyed and kind-smiled boy you met in the registration line yesterday gave you a sweet “good morning!” Arachne looked between you two with suspicion, especially at the brown-haired boy who just made himself welcome at her table. She looked at his uniform and weapons on his belt, and it was clear he was a Peacekeeper. They were roomed with three other trainees, so he clearly had acquaintances to sit with. Yet here he was, looking at you in a way that made her stomach churn.

“Did they kick you out of their group already?”

At her cold and flat tone, the boy suddenly seemed to realize that you weren’t alone. He sheepishly turned toward the glare of Arachne Crane. His eyes sold away his confusion at her words. Before any more cryptic and surely rude words could spurt from her lips, you stepped in.

“Ignore Arachne, she has the unfortunate case of being herself.” Her snort was loud and a signal to the young man.

He turned away hesitantly from the still squinting ginger. He picked at his food as he tried to explain himself.

“Sorry to barge in. I actually get along with my fellow keepers; just thought I could also extend friendship to the researchers here too. Besides, I never got to know your name.”

You smiled softly at him (causing an internal gag from Arachne) and laughed (a melodious sound to the young man).

“Well, you never told me yours either, did you?”

He smiled downwards at his food and nodded, knowing you got him there. His hazel eyes flashed to you beneath his lashes. “Cassian Slate.”

“Y/N Vaun.”

“Arachne Crane. Wonderful, we are all the greatest of friends. You spread friendship to both sides of the barracks and solved world peace. You can leave now.”

A reprimanding look was sent her way by you but thoroughly ignored as she stared daggers into this Cassian. He huffed a breath and got the hint as he started picking up his food. You attempted to try and stop him, but he assured you it was no problem.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll see you again. It’s a small district after all.”

Cassian flashed a charming smile and made his way to his peers, who welcomed him warmly. When you turned back to face Arachne, she had her eyes closed as her spoon trembled on its way to her lips.

“Well, aren’t you the social butterfly?”

“I like my personal space.”

You took a look around at the long metal table that only you and Arachne occupied. There was an awkward amount of empty space.

The goo that passed for yogurt finally made its way past her lips and just as fast, out and into a napkin. You heaved a breath and took your empty tray and hers to throw out while she tried to wash away the taste with water. She was still gagging and squinting in disgust as you were walking out and into the research center.

“Remember, you chose this.”

“Stop holding it over my head, would you?”

You smirked slightly as you turned toward the front where an elderly man with tanned skin and gray eyes addressed the rest of the scientists. The lot was briefed on your positions and jobs, of which you were thankfully paired with Arachne. Your jobs were to capture a specific type of mixed breed: the mockingjay. Pictures and descriptions of the hybrid were taught to your decently sized group. Several pairs were to scavenge separate woods all over the district. You and Arachne were assigned to the southern part of the forest by your barracks. The very same area where your Uncle Aleric lived.

When you all were dismissed to grab your equipment and get started, Arachne fell into step with you. “Some luck you have.”

You shook your head and grabbed a cart full of cages. “We have weeks to cover the ground; we don’t have to deal with it today.”

And you didn’t. Your treks didn’t get you too deeply, which meant you didn’t find many mockingjays. However, that doesn’t mean you didn’t find any. The first one you found, you were fascinated. You walked softly towards the small bird, expecting it to fly away. Instead, it stood its ground and bore its dark orbs into your own. A light “hello” went past your lips. Then it was returned to you by the bird, which caused a surprised laugh to tumble its way out of your lungs. Slowly, your laugh bounced off the trees and overtook the chirping of the woods. A chorus of your giggles was repeated and amplified by the swirling mockingjays above your head. It went from a spectacle to a mocking sensation. You felt unsettled by the never-ending sound. Over and over again. All at once, it was silenced. In a large net cast by Arachne, a gaggle of the mockingjays tried to escape. The rest flew away in fright. Arachne looked from the birds to you with a grimace.

“I did not sign up for that.”

You readily nodded your head in agreement and helped her get the birds in their cages to take back. As you walked away, the further you got from the mockingjays, you were too far to realize they picked up from where they left off, your laughter still ringing. It rang until it hit the ears of the one aching for it.

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It had been a week of venturing through the trees and capturing the odd creatures. You had yet to set foot off the barrack grounds and into the actual district, as you kept yourself occupied with your work—a trait Arachne was quick to taunt you on. “Always the overachiever,” she would say under her breath as you studied the few sources of biological components of the hybrids. However, no matter how much time it took, Arachne was fine being stuck inside because she would be stuck with you—a version of you she was sure was lost after all you’ve endured.

Your comfortable routine inside was abruptly interrupted by the sudden knock on your gray-paneled door. You looked up from your papers and Arachne from yet another book, sharing a confused glance. Arachne surely made no move to build connections with others, and while you had been friendly, nothing of true meaning had formed. Well, besides Cassian, but you had seen very little of him due to his much more intense peacekeeper duties. After yet another hard knock, you snapped out of your daze and made your way to the noise. In front of you stood one of your peers with a blinding smile. Anya, a pretty caramel-skinned girl with a sickle-like birthmark below her right eye, was nearly bouncing off the walls in excitement.

“We’ve been given leave passes for the weekend! All of us are going to the Hob, and you guys should join!”

Arachne had joined you and peeked over your shoulder at the girl. She had no interest in “connecting” with your peers, but she did want to see Twelve and really learn the livelihoods here. Whatever was going on in the cabin of your uncle’s was certainly not normal. Well, she hoped not. Her chestnut eyes picked up on your lips starting to form an excuse when she cut you off.

“We’ll be there.”

You turned to her satisfied smirk in betrayal. Then the reminder of her reasoning for being here came to your mind. She did want to make her own opinion of the districts, and she couldn’t do that always being locked up in a Capitol-funded barrack and center. Anya paid your little tiff no mind as she lowered her voice yet elevated her enthusiasm.

“I heard peacekeepers are gonna be there too if you know what I mean.” She giggled sweetly at the scandalized thought. You slightly gaped at her words, a thought that thoroughly disgusted you because the only one you wanted to see was hundreds of miles away from you. Arachne raised her eyebrows with arms crossed and a leveled icy gaze.

“They aren’t allowed to take a partner, isn’t that right?”

She laughed yet again, a noise that Arachne later compared to metal grazing metal. Her dark roots shook around her head in amused disagreement. “Well, who said anything about a relationship.”

A snippy “mhm” and a rushed goodbye from you, and the door was firmly shut in the poor girl’s face. You tried to claw your way to the door but were effectively blocked by Arachne as she urged you to get ready instead. “She will be fine, now let’s go.”

You changed into a simple yet elegant blue dress that you hoped wouldn’t catch too many people's attention with its expensive fabric and detailing. Arachne donned a beautiful pair of dark brown pants and an intricately designed black blouse. As you both looked at each other, there was an agreement: you desperately needed to go shopping to get clothes to fit in. The journey to the famed Hob wasn’t too tedious or long, and even if it was, your attention was elsewhere. You knew your gaping and wandering eyes would only bring more attention, but you couldn’t stop it. How could the Capitol and Twelve be in the same country, much less the same world? Smoke and coal clouds colored the sky, even in the darkening sky. Yet, with all the gloom in the sky, the land was covered with a surprising amount of smiles as you entered the Hob. If they could not have the privilege you were unfairly born with, at least they could have this little slice of peace.

The music was blasting and seeped through your bones. Even if you didn’t intend to enjoy your night out too much, you couldn’t stop the smile bursting upon your lips as you spotted Lucy Gray on the stage. She looked happy. At home. Alive. Somehow, of the several hundreds crowding up the dancefloor and bar, she spotted you. Her smile faltered at the memory of your last interaction, but your expression gave her ease. A wink and a grin were flashed back at you before she turned her attention to the rest of the crowd. Arachne, unsurprisingly, pushed her way through, and you could only murmur apologies as you made your way past. Finding a small unoccupied table across the back wall, you both opted in on people-watching. Your eyes wandered across the pairs of people dancing and jumping across the floor. Coal-covered hands and snuffed noses be damned, they were having a time of pure joy. The beat, energy, and enthusiasm of the group inspired you with an idea.

Arachne was hypnotized with watching the door and especially with the arrival of a horde of peacekeepers. Her neck craned ever so slightly, as if looking for someone. Though, her view was blocked by your shining eyes and outstretched hand. The girl’s ever-quizzical eyes scanned your movement. No time was wasted for an answer as you grabbed her hand and dragged her out to the dancefloor.

“Hey!”

Your head was tipped backwards as you cackled at her stiff movements and reluctance to move. Neither of you knew the dance moves of the locals, obviously, but you just grabbed her hands anyway and forced her to move from side to side. The pair of you looked ridiculous as you spun and eventually started jumping around, but you didn’t care. You had gotten the icy-cold Arachne Crane smiling and dancing in District Twelve of all places. For the first time in weeks, your mind had finally cleared, if only for a moment before a silky voice burst in.

“May I have a turn?”

Cassian stood there with a charming grin and dapper dimples on full display. If you didn’t know he was from Two, you would have fully believed he was a Capitol charmer. He stared at you expectantly, but Arachne, as always, had other plans.

“Oh, I would absolutely love to!”

The false enthusiasm was painfully clear, but she grabbed his arm anyway and forcibly tugged him into the center of the dancing and sweating throng of bodies. He looked back to you in alarm while you stared at the back of Arachne’s auburn locks in confusion. What game was she playing at?

No matter, as you suddenly felt the parchedness of your throat. You made your way back towards the bar for a simple glass of water. The most astonishing thing of the night should have been seeing Arachne Crane jumping alongside District Twelve coal miners. But instead, you came face to face with Otto. He nearly dropped the glass he was serving to an impatient customer when he spotted you. A quick apology and huff by the customer, and his full attention was on you. The two of you stood frozen, unsure how to interact after what happened last time. Your often quick-witted brain was halted upon the bile of regret crawling its way up.

“I see you are without your guard dog.”

It took you far too long to realize he was speaking to you civilly and without judgment, well, at least towards you.

“She is busy making someone else miserable, so you are in the clear.” He, much to your relief, laughed and indicated with a tip of his head for you to sit down. Otto was drying off some chipped cups with a ratty towel as you got settled. He asked for your drink of preference and gave you an amused smile when you just wished for water. The color of the substance was a bit off from what you were used to back in the Capitol, but you thanked him nonetheless. Lucy Gray’s soothing voice took up and away any awkwardness between you two as she enthralled you both. Otto’s dark eyes were fully mesmerized by the glowing singer as you studied his features. He was nothing close to your brother on the outside. But maybe you had been too quick to rush judgment on his character.

“I am sorry for acting the way I did and the damage I caused. I am not usually like that. I’ve actually never been like that. I, uhm—”

“I know. I don’t know you, but I could tell something was off. That was before what Lucy Gray told me. I guess I have to say sorry for lashing out too.”

You were quick to refuse as you thought he had all the right—more than you anyhow. He was right when he said he was there for your uncle, even if you didn’t have a choice. The conviction behind your words stopped any further argument upon his tongue. Once again, all conversation ceased to the magnetic Lucy Gray Baird. It was Otto’s turn to take you in.

“Kane. Kane Thatcher.”

You tilted your head, utterly lost at the meaning of his words.

“My name. The real one.” His voice was muttered and mumbled as he confessed. The dark eyes of his avoided yours, but you were patient for them to make their way back to you. You tilted forward, and sincerity painted all your fine features.

“Thank you...Kane.”

He didn’t like his born name, but it didn’t sound too bad from you. It was understandable why you didn’t want to use “Otto,” but he hoped one day, you would be able to. His attention was split from you as several more peacekeepers made their way through, and you swore

you saw a familiar shade of blonde. Hoping for a distraction, you shook your head and turned back to Otto—Kane? Otto? Yet once again, he was hypnotized by the girl on stage. You shifted your line of sight to his and watched a soft smile play upon her lips as he caught Lucy Gray’s eye—a smile just for him. And he could tell too, as he looked down bashfully with a full blush and broad smile. Clearly forgetting you were there, you wasted no time.

“That must have been the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes widened at your words and the realization that you were a firsthand witness to his clear infatuation. You could only beam at him, smoothing out any tension between the two of you. Unfortunately, all sweetness in the room was cut short by the very unwelcome shout of Billy Taupe.

“Lucy Gray!”

You turned your head and saw the scruffy man who had effectively sent Lucy Gray to a death sentence for his own mistakes. Following him was a high-pitched girl with short red hair and a nasty scowl.

“Billy Taupe!” The man scurried his way towards the brunette, who was obviously uncomfortable with his presence. He paid no mind to the girl who he now called his girlfriend, Mayfair.

“You’re sounding kind of thin, Lucy Gray. You’re all sounding thin without me, no?”

“Billy! You swore you wouldn’t play with them again, Billy Taupe.”

Stomping up to the raggedy man, Mayfair was in for a surprise as she was pushed aside harshly. You got up in surprise as Otto tensed. Billy was getting closer to Lucy Gray while she tried to urge the crowd to calm down. She wasn’t able to do the same as he got closer and closer to her. You turned to Otto, who had a special kind of fury burning in his dark orbs—one you’d only seen in Coriolanus Snow. In the arena.

“You going to do something, or am I?”

Otto gave you one last look as he started making his long and determined strides towards Billy, who had now grabbed the skirt of Lucy Gray.

“I know you miss me, Lucy Gray!”

“Get your hands off me right now! Get your hands off me, Billy Taupe. After what you did to me, you get your hands off me right now, or I swear I will take a snake and—”

“Don’t touch her!”

And with that, Otto’s fist flew and hit the target of Billy’s face with a deafening smash. They tumbled to the floor, with Otto pinning the offender to the ground and relentlessly hitting him. He knew he would be facing the wrath of the peacekeepers soon enough, but it was worth it. Soon enough, the men and women who were expecting a day off were trying to break up a fight. You scanned for Arachne; the last you saw her, she was close to the action, but instead, you saw a hallucination. That’s what it must have been. There was no way that Coriolanus Snow was only mere feet away from you. Your Coryo. He was trying to get his own hits on Billy but was stopped by Sejanus. Sejanus too? Coryo’s infamous blonde head, albeit shaven, lifted and the eyes that haunted your mind met yours. Across the horde of violence, you saw the love of your life. Your breath started coming in quick and heavy breaths. You couldn’t tell if it was real or not. Of course it wasn’t; Coryo should have been in Eight. The battle between reality and vision was interrupted as you were collateral damage of a shove by a very muscular and shaven man. You stumbled and almost collapsed before an arm latched onto yours.

“Let’s get out of here while we can, Ace.”

You let Arachne tow you to safety; the night air of Twelve. She intended to walk straight back to the barracks before any trouble followed you, but you pulled her to a halt. Her eyes rolled as she tried to urge you forward.

“Come on, Ace. I don’t want to find out what will happen if we don’t get back in time.”

“I saw him. I saw Coryo.”

All resistance was broken when his name was breathed out by you. She expected you to start smiling and jumping for joy, but all she received was a hollowed look.

“He wasn’t real. I’m losing it, Ara. I’m seeing things. I’m getting sick too often. Something is happening to me and—”

Arachne silenced your despair as she crushed you in a hug. You were stiff but eventually started melting as tears rained down. You were so sick of the tears, the sickness, all of it. She never let go as she comforted you.

“What if you weren’t seeing things, Ace?”

While she tried to offer comfort, you pushed her away with a look of disgust and betrayal.

“I am losing it, Arachne, and you’re just playing into it?!”

“What?! No, Y/N—”

“He isn’t here, I know that! Whatever you’re trying to play at, leave me and especially him out of it! Don’t—don’t give me that hope.” You stared her down even as you broke down. Arachne felt herself cracking with you. She knew you weren’t well, but she hated that you felt it yourself—that you fully believed you were deluded to see hallucinations. The moonlight illuminated your tear-stricken yet still stunning face. She didn’t know if you would accept or if her plan would actually work, but she tenderly whispered out for you to follow her.

The auburn-haired girl turned around and didn’t fully expect you to follow, but, to her relief, you did. You were unsure why exactly, but you were so exhausted you had no fight left in you. Besides, you didn’t want to be on the streets by yourself.

Though, you would not be on the streets for long as you quickly entered a section of the vast woods. Arachne walked through as if she were an expert, even in the moonlight. Your march led the two of you to an opening with a flowered field and a large spiraled tree. It was beautiful, but your mind and heart had no room for beauty. You had truly thought you had gotten even the slightest bit better, but tonight was only a reinforcement of your “brokenness.”

You continued following Arachne to the middle of the field, right beneath the tree. The moonlight was above you, lighting up the entire scenery. She let out a sigh as her eyes returned to you after a quick scan of the area.

“Act as if I am Coriolanus. What would you say to him?”

You blankly stared at her. What in the world? A scoff came from you at her words.

“I mean it, Ace. What would you say?”

“Arachne, I’m not in the mood—”

“Come on, Y/N.”

How was she acting as if you were the weird one for not wanting to pour your heart out for a pretend version of the other half of your being? You threw your hands up in defeat. Sometimes there was no arguing with Arachne, and this was certainly one of those times.

“Why do you even care?!”

“Y/N, please—”

“Okay, fine! I would say that I hate him for his stupid cleverness. I would say that I love and curse his determination. I would shout about how easily he let himself be shipped away from his family—from me.” Your voice was cracking with emotion. “I would be pulling my hair because I would be so frustrated and overwhelmed with how much I love him and the pain that’s caused me because I can’t! Every time we get a moment of happiness, it gets shattered and battered. I would yell at the universe for trying to pull us apart and cry out why he let it happen!”

Arachne felt her heart shatter, piece by piece. It pierced her flesh, and the salt of her inhaled tears seeped in. She asked for this. She caused this. She wants this. She wants this. She forces herself to accept that. If she can’t be the one causing you madness from love, then shouldn’t she be the one to at least give you what you actually want? She will eventually be satisfied enough with having that part in your happiness and love.

She wonders if it is worth it, but no matter how selfish she wants to be, she knows it is when a branch breaks behind you. You spin towards the intruder, and you could physically feel the blood flowing in your veins stop.

There he was. Shaven hair, a far more muscular and fitted frame, and dog tags adorned his neck. But those same glorious eyes. Your imagination must have been extremely detailed, or the impossible was true.

“I will let you yell at me for the rest of our days as long as I can hear your voice.”

You didn’t want to believe it. You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t real. Over and over again, that voice of rationality shrieked at you, but yet your feet took cautious steps. He waited patiently, anticipating having you in his arms once more but couldn’t afford startling you. You made it right in front of him when your hands, shaking, rose slowly to his slightly tanned face. When they touched flesh, you felt your heart nearly rip from your chest. Your fingers moved across his fine cheekbones over and over again as you couldn’t believe it. Tears blurred his handsome face, but for once, you welcomed them. Your cheeks burned with the severity of your smile, but you could be bleeding and you wouldn’t care. He was there.

His rough-textured hands covered your own as he joined your beautiful laughter. You were there. You giggled, cackled, and cried while never letting go of him, not that he would let you. All your hysterics were let out as you finally took in his somehow far more grown yet charming features. You took each detail in, committing it to memory. Something Coryo noticed and was adamant to stop because he never wants to be in your memories again. He wants to be your reality. His hands brushed away stray pieces of hair as he took a good hold of you.

His eyes traced every little mark on your radiant face—one he was determined to make his first and last thought while always being his current moment. At once, his all-consuming eyes fluttered closed while he leaned towards you, consuming you. His lips were gentle as they melted into your own, and the only force was yours as you kissed back. Your hand snaked behind his neck while his traveled to your hips. Repeated quick pecks turned into elongated stolen kisses.

Time hadn’t been a concept for you since you laid eyes on him, but some must have passed as you pulled away, flushed and out of breath. Your foreheads were still connected along with your arms around each other. Peace had finally found its way back into your life as you found yourself in Coryo’s embrace.

“So you really love me, huh?”

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@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

Some Ideas/Requests I had for Coriolanus snow! (Any one can make these because I’m not good at writing plus I’d prefer someone else…hehe) also all female reader!!

1. Coriolanus snow x fem reader: During the hunger games you and Lucy come across careers and during the amidst of fighting trying to fight them off the reader sacrifice herself to save Lucy, not only leaving behind her best friend (Lucy) but also leaving behind her love (Coriolanus)

2. Jealous Coriolanus x fem reader: where the reader and Coriolanus used to have a fling but they ended it. (You can decide the reason) and the reader ends up with one of finnick odairs ancestors and Coriolanus gets jealous (and if you do smut you can make it into smut.

3. Peacekeeper Coriolanus snow x fem reader: The night Lucy performs the reader also performs and is just as good with the guitar and has a very captivating singing voice. Which makes Coriolanus awestruck/starts falling for her.

4. Jealous Coriolanus Snow x fem reader: the reader and Coriolanus are good friends for a while and maybe he’s had feelings/has been slightly pinning after her, both of them are mentors and the reader gets a very nice hot guy as her tribute and they become attracted to each other and coryo gets jealous

5. Coriolanus snow x reader: the reader was a tribute not that long before the 10th hunger games but during her games she had unknowingly did something that the capital did not approve of and she gets reaped back into the games but she doesn’t get a mentor because of the capital/peacekeepers doing the dirty work themselves they decided to put her back into the games and instead of snow falling for Lucy gray (his tribute) he falls for the reader. And during the games Lucy asks the reader what happened to her and she tells Lucy that after the games they had killed her family and sold her (like what happened to finnick & Johanna! If not comfortable y’all can leave that part out or come up with something else)

6. Coriolanus snow x fem reader: it’s when the attacks happen the reader gets hit and becomes unconscious but instead of snow looking for her (his gf?) he more worried about Lucy gray and he doesn’t realize that the reader is their next to him in the wing until after he knows Lucy is okay. Maybe the reader is in a very bad condition and had to undergo a surgery.

7. Coriolanus Snow x fem reader: where she’s in the games and she sings safe and sound by Taylor Swift to her fellow tribute, while their dying (like how katniss did with rue) and snow is just in awe and can’t take his eyes off the screen. (Maybe you were part of the capital and was thrown into the games because of your family?¿)

(I have more but all that I can think of rn!)

Idea

Imagine Where it’s Coriolanus snow x fem reader and they have known each other for a long time and maybe even dated (until Lucy gray) and somebody says in a speech:

“A Toast To Y/n always the second love, never the first..”

Or something like that and yes it’s inspired by the quote in corpse bride..

(Like honestly how would he react? How would the reader react? What would happen?)

My Oc’s!

(Part of my Coriolanus Snow Fanfic!)

Main Girl:

Emme Reinswood~

Main Boy (one of them):

Ashe Warren~

2 Main(ish) Boy:

Marcus Plinth~

Relationship Aesthetics:

Emme + Coriolanus~

Emme + Ash~

The LoveTriangle~

What would you do for love?

Description - Coriolanus would go far for the his love, for his only one.

Readers name is Angel Valentine

Warnings - Reader is kinda a home wrecker, coriolanus (cause even if he’s my man and I don’t wanna fix him he is a wanring himself) exile.

He hated Livia Cardew, He hated that woman.

He hated the fact she kept him from being with the woman he truly wanted to be with.

The capitols sweetheart, Angel Valentine.

The woman he had grown up with, the woman he had always loved.

And he made the stupid mistake of going with his idea he’d had up until his love for Angel sprouted.

to marry not for love, but for power.

Angels family were powerful, thats how she manged to get into the academy. Daddys money, bless her poor dumb heart.

but he loved her, he really really loved her

and now they were forced to be together in secret.

There she was, sat in (as he saw it) her rightful place.

In his lap.

Livia had not one clue as to what he was doing or where he was.

“Corio” Her melodic voice broke the silence.

“Yes, babydoll?” He responds in an affectionate tone.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

His mind goes completely blank, his body freezing.

“I feel bad, for Livia”

Her feeble little voice speaks.

Her beautiful heart, that he adored so much.

“Don’t feel bad, darling. She knows I do not love her, and you know that I love you” He says, rubbing her waist gently with his strong hand.

“I don’t want to be a mistress to someone anymore”

She says, getting off his lap, he flows suit standing up tall above her.

All he hears is the shakiness of her voice and the word ‘Mistress’ leaving her lips.

“You are not my mistress. You are the love my life, Livia does not matter.”

And he would, he would divorce Livia, if it weren’t for the way the people of Panem thought, the outrage of the president divorcing his wife.

and then he thought it.

“I’ll take care of it, baby. Don’t worry your sweet little head about a thing, you shall be my wife soon enough.”

Her sweet little confused face, her furrowed brows.

“How, corio?”

she says in a state of confusion.

“As I said baby, don’t worry”

-

It had been a month, an eventful one.

Coriolanus’ face was filled with nothing but a smile.

The people of the Capitol were outraged to find out poor presidents snows wife, Livia Cardew, was working with the rebels against the capitol.

And how she had been exiled and her marriage to him had been terminated.

and he was exhilarated.

And when he heard that distinct knock of yours, he smiled that both brighter.

His soon to be wife, running over to him, placing a big kiss on his cheek.

he wouldn’t let her know a thing.

he had made sure none of that scary news reached you.

Is sweet little fiance didn’t need to worry about such big things.