Summary: Forced into marriage and parenthood, Coriolanus defies the Capitol to protect his newborn daughter—choosing love over power. (Request found here!)
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!reader
Includes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, your dad and grandmother snow being terrible people, angst, misogyny, Coriolanus becomes protective, threats, mentions of death, cursing, allusions of sex, baby claire (kinda followed request, but also not???)
a/n: going through all my requests rn!
For as long as you could remember, you and Coriolanus despised one another.
It started off small in elementary school. He took your fountain pen and never gave it back, making you take his flower pin his grandmother gave him. After that, it all tumbled down into a big game of constant hatred.
In the Academy, you became insightful on the math and science subjects while he focused on English and history. You would go back and forth on who was smarter, often times arguing like young kids that even Dean Highbottom would call you two children.
During your University years, your arguments become more frequent. The both of you were doing your best to please Dr. Gaul and her craziness that neither of you realized that Grandmother Snow and your father set you up for an arranged marriage.
It felt like hell when they told you.
You knew very well that Coriolanus could have any woman in the Capitol and that any man would be lucky to have you as their wife, but you wanted to focus on your studies and become a doctor—not a man’s wife. Especially not Coriolanus Snow’s wife.
Unfortunately, the cards fell in your father’s favor and the two of you wed. Soon after, Coriolanus became the youngest president in the history of Panem. From then on, you had to plaster on a practiced smile and pretend to love Coriolanus for the cameras. And he did as well.
To the world, your relationship was picture perfect.
Behind closed doors, you wouldn’t even talk to one another.
You would eat together at the long dining table but never spoke. It was completely silent like an invisible wall separated the two of you.
The only time you only ever tolerated each other at home was when you were both… frustrated and needed a way to relax. But the next morning, even though you had gotten along well, the night’s activities would be forgotten and you would go back to silent treatment.
Well up until his Grandmother had enough of you not bearing a young Snow.
“Dear, how long has it been since you’ve been married to this young woman?” She would say to Coriolanus with a hint of frustration.
The both of you would sit on the long couch, far from each other while she paced back and forth between the space. She detested the tension, but it was partially her doing anyhow.
“For one year and six months, Grandma’am.” He would respond, sipping his tea and staring at her with boredom.
She huffed at his response before turning to you, “And how long has it been since my grandson has been president?”
“For one year and six months.” You stared at her with folded hands, not daring to meet your husband’s strong gaze as you spoke. “I expect him to stay in Presidency for the rest of his life, Grandma’am.”
“I expect that as well, dear.” She stilled and rested her hands on her cane, standing in the center of the room. “In that case, I’m—the public and future of the Snow name—is in need of an heir.”
Coriolanus choked on his tea and your eyes widened in shock, Grandmother Snow daring the two of you to defy her wishes with one single look.
In theory, the mixture of you and Coriolanus seemed absolutely perfect. In your eyes, it seemed quite horrid and it appeared Coriolanus agreed as well when he met your eyes with the same irritation for his Grandmother.
“Oh, you’re both adults, and everyone in this room knows you get along well with each other when alone.” She waved a dismissive hand around and bit back a smirk when your face and Coriolanus’ burned bright crimson. “You always knew it was expected of you in the end.”
And expected it became.
A few weeks later, you announced to the public that you were bearing Coriolanus’ child. The Capitol rejoiced at the news and it felt like the only thing they could talk about was the new Snow child.
They all believed it was a boy since a girl would never ascend to become president in their eyes. The gender became the hottest topic in any room you walked into. However, the gent of the baby was something both you and Coriolanus decided not to find out until the day your child was born.
Everyone awaited to know what the gender of the Snow child was as you got closer and closer to the due date. There were people who even tried to pretend to be a doctor to try and find the gender out, but no one heard anything. Not even the slightest hint.
On the day of your child’s birth, it was only you, Coriolanus, and the assigned doctors and nurses to aid you. Not even Tigris or Grandma’am was allowed. The cries of your baby filled the room as the doctor did one last check before handing her to you.
The Snow heir was a girl.
You pressed your cheek on the top of your baby as she quieted down in your arms, one finger tucked in her tiny hand and your free hand in Coriolanus’.
“Oh, my sweet girl.” You murmur softly and listen to her gentle breathing. “The world is going to absolutely go crazy over you.”
She squirmed in your arms, incoherent noises spilling from her mouth.
“No, I don’t know if they’ll be happy or not.” You say to her, answering like she had asked a question. “But I certainly am in love with you.”
Coriolanus watched you both, his eyes softening at the sight of his newborn daughter and wife. Never in his life did he think he would have a child with you, yet here you were, speaking to your daughter mere moments after she was born.
“She has your eyes, Coriolanus.” You look over at your husband, your own eyes filled with exhaustion.
He nodded and took his daughter from you gently, wanting to let you rest even for a second. Coriolanus held the bundle close to his chest and smile softly at his daughter, “Your mother is right, darling. The world will be crazy over you.”
She babbled something to him before nuzzling into his chest, falling asleep just like you did. He slowly sat in the chair beside the bed and started at the small family he was forced to create, mind instantly wandering toward the public’s opinion.
For as long as you and Coriolanus could, you kept the gender of your dear daughter a secret. Only those who lived in the house knew of the gender. You even hid it from both your families until the counsel and cabinet began demanding answers from the both of you—coming to your house without warning.
“Word has gotten out your child has been born, Coriolanus. The public demands a viewing and answer.” One of the men pounded on the Presidential Manor door, the other voices agreeing from the back.
You stood at the back of the foyer with Claire in your arms, gently rocking her up and down as Coriolanus and the peacekeepers spoke. You knew they were going to find out about your daughter sooner or later, but the force they were using seemed cruel and unnecessary.
“You need to go upstairs to our bedroom.” Coriolanus went up to you as the peacekeepers dispersed, his hands coming down to your shoulders. “Keep the doors locked—“
The both of you turned slowly to the doors when you heard a key enter the slot, the voices of the men hushed now as the door slowly opened to reveal Grandma’am with one of the master keys.
You glared at the woman as the men entered the manor, voices rising as they saw you turn your body away to shield your child from their prying gaze.
Coriolanus stepped toward the men in disappointment and annoyance, making a mental note to change every person in the counsel and cabinet later. “You cannot just come to my home and demand answers.”
“We can if the president refuses to give out information that would benefit the public’s knowledge.” A voice piped from the sea of men, quieting when Coriolanus glared.
“Coryo, is it a boy or not?” Grandma’am looked past Coriolanus, catching the glint of your child’s blanket wrapped around her tiny body. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?”
Roars of disappointment and anger came from the men surrounding Coriolanus as they heard Grandmother Snow. They began complaining about what the Capitol might think and how it was his fault for not determining the gender sooner in hopes of starting over.
Your baby began to fuss at all the noise, her quiet cries filling the already loud room. You stepped backwards and whispered reassurances to her while keeping an eye on the men who seemed so keen to take her from your arms.
“Here’s an idea: why don’t you tell the press the baby has died and start the process all over again.” A crude man, who looked like he was too old to even function properly, hollered from the back. “Hide the young girl. God knows a woman could never be President in this country.”
Your eyes harden at the man’s words, glaring at him as tears began to well up in your eyes. Your daughter didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, she was probably already more competent than half the men standing in front of you.
Claire, sensing your distress, grabbed your hanging necklace and babbled something to you. Although she was still fussy and upset, she wanted to comfort you.
Coriolanus shook his head at the men and his Grandmother as they spewed horrid ideas. You had just given birth and they already expected you to get pregnant again just so a boy could be born into the Snow name.
He became slightly panicked when Grandma’am approached you to try and grab the baby.
“Coriolanus,” You whispered to him as he stepped closer to you. “Please, don’t let anyone take her.”
He looked back at you and saw his family standing together—scared of what would happen to their peace they once had in their home. Coriolanus never thought it would happen in his life; Loving you. It came as soon as he saw the love and care you had for Claire. He didn’t know he could even love you, nevertheless the child you both brought into the world.
In his eyes, controlling Panem was true power, but the small family he created before him was something he could never replace with that power.
“All of you, get back and give us space to fucking breathe.” Coriolanus spoke coolly, watching the men twist their face in shock before stepping back, his grandmother stepping back as well at his rude language. “My wife and I will not be hiding our daughter, nor will we announce to the public that she has died.”
The men stared at him, half frustrated and half surprised at Coriolanus’ initiative.
“You cannot expect my wife to bear another child mere days after she has just given birth. And it isn’t up to a group of grown men to tell us—her—that she needs to bear a son. It’s up to her whether or not she wishes to have another child.” Coriolanus moved to stand beside you, putting a hand on your back. “Thank you so much for coming to my home unannounced, but unfortunately you will have to leave the premises before my peacekeepers are forced to find another way to get you off my property.”
They all grumbled and slowly shuffled toward the door before Coriolanus spoke again.
“Oh, and you’re all fired.”
You stifle a laugh as the men looked over at your husband like he was crazy, complaints filling the air before they were silenced at the sight of several guns pointed at their bodies from your peacekeepers.
“You didn’t have to fire them.” You murmur to Coriolanus as the last man exited the building.
“They were old. They don’t realize that a woman can ascend to presidency.” He pressed a muted kiss to the top of your head before turning his attention to his Grandmother. “How dare you let those men in?”
“Excuse me?”
Coriolanus narrowed his eyes at her, “You are not allowed back into my house for as long as I live. Do you know what kind of sick and twisted behavior those men possess? Letting them into my house—my manor— because you demanded answers isn’t doing justice to the Snow name.”
Grandma’am stared at her grandson with welling tears, hand over her mouth in shock. “You have no right to yell at me—“
“You had no right to come into my home where my wife and daughter lives. You put them at risk of death.” He took the keys from his Grandmother and threw them at a table. “Leave me and my family alone.”
She sobered up and glared before leaving the house, muttering something about raising him as a child.
You watched her leave a small smile on your face, Claire babbling something like she sensed your smile. Coriolanus turned back to face you and raised an eyebrow at your smile, silently questioning the look.
“She’s always disliked me even when she arranged our marriage.” You shrug. “Good to see her told off by her baby grandchild.”
He rolled his eyes in amusement before looking down at Claire, rubbing his knuckle against her soft cheek. “No one will hurt you, sweet girl. We promise.”
Your gaze softens as Claire leans into her father’s touch, your heart beating for the man you swore you would never love. Her parents might not have loved each other at the start, but thought of both of them protecting their daughter was enough love to fill in the void.
As years passed, genuine affection and love blossomed from you and Coriolanus. The men who once scolded your family were gone and replaced by younger, more open men and women. Grandma’am never stepped foot into the Presidential Manor again and never showed her face in public, forever shamed by Coriolanus.
And your daughter? She became Panem’s sweetheart, along with her younger brother.
You and Coriolanus were always forced to make decisions by every single person, but truly, your daughter was always favored in these choices. Because in the end, it was her birth that led her parents to be truthful and love one another.
౨ৎ when you have a nightmare by coriolanus’s side ౨ৎ
As soon as you woke up, your eyes refused to focus on just one scene. The breaths that came from your mouth were ragged and broken at best.
“Darling?”, Coriolanus takes you in his arms as soon as he notices that you had awoken by another nightmare. “Oh love.. you’re okay . I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere”.
“C-Coryo?”, you manage to blurt out. “Did I wake you?”
“No, no I was already up. Just finishing up some extra paperwork”. He presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you against his side.
“Paperwork in bed?”. For a moment you forgot about the nightmare that had left a stain on you, your husband’s workaholic nature seeming to humor you.
“It was just a form or two I needed to fill out. Would you prefer I did it in my study because I can go-”
“That’s not necessary!!!”, you squeak out quickly before Coriolanus even manages to lift a finger.
Coriolanus puts his paperwork to the side, remembering how much physical comfort meant to you whenever you suffered from a nightmare. “Was it the same nightmare?”
You nod, head leaning on his chest. “I can’t go back to sleep”.
“Well then, let’s just lie down together”. This scene had been played out multiple times for the last few nights in your home, and Coriolanus was there every time the rewind button was pressed.
i desperately need boxer!coryo to teach me how to do everything he does like yes i’m bored teach me how you wrap your hands, teach me how to throw a punch without breaking all of my fingers
⋆.˚ Baby Steps 🂱 ˚✧ ₊
Boxer!Coryo x Reader
Coryo teaches you how to box, and more importantly how to defend yourself when he isn’t there to do it for you.
thank you for the ask boo ❤️
“Shouldn’t be fighting with nails,” Coryo rubs a thumb pad over your acrylics, clicking his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly.
“But don’t they look nice?”
“Gorgeous, baby.”
You’re sitting on two stools in the dingy basement he fought in, against the wall a good distance from the ring. You insisted— pressured, really— your boyfriend into teaching you how to box. And no, he was completely he against it for a while. But you found a loophole, telling him that you should know how to defend yourself. In your words, “You can’t protect me all day, every day.”
He had chewed on his cheek, then narrowed his eyes at the floor. You knew from the way he scratched at his jaw that he would, though, he would want to protect you all hours of the day. If you let him, he’d be your guard dog on a leash. But you had a point. He couldn’t leave his girl without some guns.
So here you sat, your legs crossed and slotting between Coryo’s lazily spread ones, as you let him wrap your hand. Your eyes flick twixt his focused expression and his deft hands— his split knuckles still scabbed over from the last fight night. His lips pressed and brows furrowed in concentration, muttering to you, “Thrice ‘round the wrist, okay? Then over this space, right here—“ —He taps his finger holding the roll of wrap on the skin twixt your thumb and pointer— “and then ‘round your knuckles. Thrice again.”
You hum as if you follow, but you’re really just enjoying the face that you can hear his breathing, smell his cologne. His fingers are gentle and soft on you, but he pulls the white wrap firm and taut. “Then fill in the space, y’know. That’s all.” Coryo shrugs, pushing out his bottom lip as if it’s no big.
‘Cause it’s not, not to him. This is his world. It’s been years, maybe 7th grade, since he didn’t have atleast three dents in himself. Right now, he has a purple eye underlined with a scabbing-over scrape, a split brow (though he thought it looked pretty good,), wrecked knuckles and the bone of his nose was nice and sore. He wasn’t exactly a pageant poodle. Well, maybe to you.
He stooped over to tear the wrap with his teeth, tucking the tail end under another layer and handing you the roll. “You get it?”
“I get it,” you agree, hesitantly going about wrapping the red cotton around your wrist, once, twice, thrice.
“Mhm,” Coryo encourages as you continue, following his example with a slightly less sure hand, but still doing okay nonetheless. He was convinced you were good at everything you picked up, the second you tried.
Once your fists are crimson, he grunts approvingly and reaches behind himself for a pair of tied together, white boxing gloves. He unties them, opens the mouth of the left glove for you to wiggle your hand into. “So will I not feel anything?”
There’s a hint of a laugh in Coryo’s voice as he laces up the side of your mitten, “Not exactly, baby.” With a bratty huff you mock an uppercut to your boyfriend jaw, whispering a “pow!” and trying not to smile at his recoil.
“Don’chu laugh at me, Coryo! How am I supposed to know?” He seems to get a real kick out of your fake indignation ‘cause the smile that pulls his lips fully over his teeth is just precious to you. He could act macho all he wanted, but that had to come with your mockery of it from time to time.
He helps you get the second glove on, and pushes himself to his feet. “Sorry, ma’am. You’re absolutely right.” You shoot him a snarky look while he pushes up the ropes framing the ring for you to duck under.
“So, what? I just punch until I knock you down?”
Coryo’s smile broadens at the prospect of you knocking him down. He shakes his head once, lifting his brows to say don’t know about that one, in the kindest way he can muster. “Kind of.”
He watches you mock a dramatic blow to his gut and decides he might as well double over and grunt like you really have knocked the wind out of him. The laugh it gets out of you is worth it.
You tap your gloves together, feeling macho, while Coriolanus slips on some red punch pads, raising them to your shoulder length. So, really, at his chest. “Spread your feet further apart, baby. Wider stance.” You shuffle your feet out, but he finds something new to correct, “looser, too.”
“Do you want me to do a front flip too?” Your scowl makes laugher bubble up from Coryo. You had a way of cracking him open, getting to the goods inside.
Well, goods was subjective. He swore up and down that he was rotten sour, deep at his core, and though he was a bit scared to warn you aloud, he was just as scared of you rifling a bit too deep into his flesh and finding that rot for yourself. Something in him knew you wouldn’t stop prying your hands through his guts until you did find it.
He was torn, Coryo. A part of him wanted to hide those flaws, that tainted organ that spewed out poison into his body. Another wanted to reveal it, bare himself to you, lay his whole, naked self at your feet and see if you’d still stick around.
God, he hoped you’d still stick around.
“Take me a little serious.” Coryo huffs though he’s grinning like a little boy. He nudges your elbows upward with his knuckles, bringing your boxing gloves in front of your face. “Protect your head, that’s a big one.”
“Right. Protect my head, okay. But how do I punch?” You mock an overdramatic punch to Coryo’s punching pads, only lightly tapping them.
He mulls it over. “Let’s start simple. throwin’ a hook. Just.. rotate your body—“ you do what he says, he pauses to nod, “— and pivot on that foot. Keep that spare elbow close, baby.”
You guess that while watching Coryo’s matches you must’ve not been paying close enough attention— maybe the art of it gets lost in the scuffle. “Exhale on the punch,” he snaps you from your thoughts as you try and throw a hook, following those instructions. You didn’t think beating people ugly had technique to it, really.
“C’mon, harder. You aren’t gonna knock me over.” Coriolanus insists, his voice sterner than you’re used to as you punch the red square he holds up. You put a little more oomph behind your arm, keeping the other glove tucked almost under your chin, but he still doesn’t look satisfied. “C’mon.”
“I’m doing it.” You huff, frustration putting a scowl on your face. Coryo shakes his head, lowering the pads.
“Don’t gimme that.” You scoff at him, lifting a brow. Your hair was up in a ponytail but you already felt your baby hairs sticking to the nape of your neck. When you don’t say anything he just repeats himself. “Come on, don’t gimme that, baby girl.”
“Give you what?”
“That attitude.” Coryo insists, you see a smile tugging at his lips, the bastard. He raises his hands again and nods to beckon you forward. “If you’re mad, hit me like it.”
You roll your eyes. You aren’t mad, atleast not yet, but frustration was catching fire in your gut, the flames licking at your stomach. He was so damn bossy, and you muttered as much under your breath.
You keep your non dominant mitt a few inches below your chin, your leading hand curling and throwing a punch with every ounce you could give it. Coryo doesn’t even stumble, but he grins at you, easy and real, eyebrows lifting. “Good. Good!”
“Just keep doing that.” Teacher sent from hell, you’re tempted to retort, but there’s something sweet about how eager your boyfriend is to get you boxing. There’s this boyish, almost giddy look on his usually hard features. He’d look like a little boy, you think, if the bone above his eye wasn’t blackening, his cheekbone dotted with a skidding cut and scabbed over (you had been there when he got that one, the stitching of his opponent’s glove had whistled past his cheek enough to rip up skin in a dashed line.)
You take another go at it, pivoting on your foot and driving your fist forward. Coryo’s your personal cheerleader. “Great, baby.”
With an exasperated breath you draw your brows, “When am I gonna fight you?”
Coryo laughs at that, shaking his head and muttering, “Nah, nah, I’m not fighting you.”
“Why not?” You huff, dropping your fists. Coryo lifts his own hands, bracing the back of his head with his arms up.
“I’m not gonna fight my girl,” He says it like it’s common sense, lifting his eyebrows at you as you step up to him. You mock another punch to his chest, standing much closer than two fighters in the ring should be standing.
“‘Cause you’re scared, ah?” You try to rile him up, but lord knows Coryo had all the patience in the world for you. Not like he wasted it on anybody else anyway. You turn up your chin anyway, stepping up on your toes and acting like a macho street fighter, pretending to get up in his face. You were closer to his chest, really, your height not very intimidating. That silly smile on your cheeks doesn’t help the image either.
“Scared? You think I’m scared of you?” He’s throwing that smile right back at you, though. You nod, and you open your mouth to taunt him further, but Coryo bends down, his shoulder to your stomach, and flips you up onto his shoulder like you weigh a clutch of grapes.
The sound effects he makes with his mouth are downright boyish, blowing through his teeth to mimick the sound of slamming you down on the ring, with a real lean over to boot, though his hands grip your back too tight to let you go to the ground. Your sound of surprise falls into a laugh as you clutch at his white t-shirt, once he straighens you’re reaching down to swat at his butt with your boxing gloves, guffawing, “Coryo, you ass! Put me down!”
“Little miss trash-talk,” Coryo mutters, you hear but can’t see the grin on his face. A strong arm wraps over the small of your back, parading you around the ring a bit like a trophy on his shoulder. “Can’t bring you no-where!”
“You can bring me out to lunch,” you pipe up from behind him, tapping the white leather of your gloves at his back. He grunts as if to say, yeah, okay. Sure I will. Even though between you, he really, definitely will.
He decides he’ll just have to pick this lesson back up tomorrow.
| "i guess i thought i knew you, but you don't know yourself. my heart was on the table, yours was on the shelf. you promised me a castle, but all you built were walls. i treated you like a king, but even kingdoms fall..." | this is like house of balloons, but not. bc picking that series back up right now gives me a headache lol |
Rain patters against the windows of the dimly lit study. Coriolanus prefers to work with the overhead light turned off late into the night. It's less harsh on the eyes. Softens the edges of the ugly world he's helped to build.
He hears something else soft. Footsteps. Moving carefully through his home. They're getting closer, and closer, and closer. Then, a knock. Soft. Gentle. All the words he could use to describe her.
"Come in," he calls, still staring at the fireplace. He should add more firewood. The fire's nearly gone. The door to his study opens softly.
"Will you read to me?"
He turns at her voice. Over a year of being married to Soarynn, and her voice still surprises him every time. It guts him, if he's being honest. He is rarely honest with himself.
She's standing in the doorway of his study, barefoot, her blonde hair tumbles down her shoulders in soft waves. She's wearing a pale pink nightgown. She looks so incredibly small standing there.
Young, his mind corrects him, she looks incredibly young.
And that's because she is. In the Capitol, once a girl gets her period, she becomes a woman. Ready to be married. No matter how old she is. Or how young.
In Soarynn's case, she was sixteen when she bled for the first time. Her father said she was proud to be a woman. Her mother later whispered that Soarynn cried for hours when she realized what it meant. It meant she would be given away, married to a man likely twice her age.
Coriolanus married her when she was seventeen. He was thirty-two at the time. Ironically, he was considered to be one of the younger Commanders in the Capitol. But she was never considered to be too young to marry him.
That should've been the ironic part. Except it wasn't. Men clapped him on the back and congratulated him on securing such a pretty little wife. And she was very pretty. Narrow frame, built like a bird, long blonde hair, nearly white in the sun. What always took his breath away were her eyes, though. Big. Blue. And gray. He never knew that shade of blue existed until he met her.
Those big eyes stare at him now, filled with hope. Or as much hope as she's permitted to have living in a world like this. A world where women cannot read or write. A world where men make all of the decisions. Women are simply...ornamental. Pretty figures to stand next to their husbands while they preside over the Capitol and the Districts.
But here she is now. His little wife is standing barefoot in his study, asking him to read to her because he did it once and now it's become a habit. He still hasn't decided whether it's a good one or a bad one yet.
The first time he read to her was, in all honesty, a way to calm her down. She had gotten a terrible fever that left her bedridden for at least a week. She hated being sick. Hated the doctors who poked and prodded at her. She had been beside herself on one of the first nights. Burning up, sweating, crying a little.
Coriolanus honestly hadn't known what to do. Hugs and kisses were not his idea of comfort. He already told her she would be fine. That she would not die. That Capitol medicine would make her feel better. So in an attempt to get her to sleep, he started to read to her. Just his reports, work-related things, he started to read out loud while he worked from a desk in their room.
Apparently, his voice calmed her.
She slept for the entire night. And the night after that, and the night after that. As long as he read to her. When she got better, he assumed that was the end of his stories. He thought incorrectly. Because the next night, Soarynn padded into his study, something she never did unless summoned.
He should have turned her away. That's what he thinks to himself all the time. It would've saved him a lot of trouble. But he never does. The logical part of him understands that sometimes indulging can get you further in life than correcting can. The sentimental part, however, has not been allowed a say on the matter yet.
Because it might tell him something that he doesn't want to hear.
"Come here," he says quietly, pushing back from his desk. His study is immaculate. A large mahogany desk sits in the center, surrounded by bookshelves lined with history, awards, and medals, all proof of success. There are books everywhere in here. And she can't read a single one.
Soarynn closes the door behind her with a soft click, twisting her hands in her nightgown. She does that whenever she's nervous. She stands between his knees only for a moment before his hand comes to her waist, pulling her down until she's sitting in his lap, her back pressed against his chest.
She settles there comfortably now. At first, she was stiff as a board. Now, she reaches for the top drawer of his desk and opens it without asking. Her book is there. Well, it's not her book. It's his book. Everything in this house belongs to him. Including her.
"I think the princess is going to escape," she tells him, running her thumb over the pages. Coriolanus takes the book from her, opening it to where he last left off. "Hmm. Why's that?"
Soarynn shrugs, settling more comfortably against him. "It's nice to have happy endings." The alternative ending would be that she marries the prince. Coriolanus knows why she sees that as an unhappy ending. The same thing happened to her. Locked away in a castle.
"Well, let's see if you're right." Coriolanus begins reading, the cadence of his voice is calming, slower than his usual pace. He read faster in the beginning. Until he noticed her trying to keep up with him. She still can't read. But she tries. God, she tries. He catches her doing it all the time.
By the time he finishes reading it, her head is resting on his shoulder, inches away from his chin. Her feet dangle above the ground, and one hand sits on the armrest. Comfortable. Not asleep. Not yet.
"You're not asleep yet," he notes dryly.
She looks up at him with a frown on her pretty little face. "That wasn't a happy ending."
Coriolanus rests one hand on her waist, and the other sets the book down on the desk. "She married the prince."
"I thought she would escape."
"That is not how these stories typically end," he explains.
Soarynn frowns even deeper. "That's not fair."
A flicker of amusement crosses his face. "Most things aren't, darling."
"Can we read another one?"
He shakes his head. "You need to go to bed."
"Tomorrow then?" She asks hopefully, "Can we start a new book tomorrow?"
Coriolanus mulls this over longer than he should. Because he knows the answer he should give: no. No more books. She's a wife, not a child. Only children need bedtime stories. And yet, she is a child. Perhaps that's why he allows this. Guilt and indulgence can often feel like the same thing if you're good at lying to yourself.
He's made a whole career out of it.
"We'll see."
Soarynn sighs, slouching in his lap.
"That means no."
"You sound very sure of yourself."
She gives him a guilty look, "Sorry."
There she is. His little apologist.
She suddenly points at the cover of the book, "Is that my name?"
He looks at the cover now. The title is far from her name, but the author's name is where the confusion lingers.
Sodenhiem.
An old Capitol name. Older than Coriolanus himself.
Not her name. Not even close. But how would she know? She can't read.
"No," he says, "that is not your name."
"Oh. Sorry."
That apology again. It's almost instinct.
Coriolanus reaches for a different drawer, one she's never opened before, and pulls out a sheet of paper and a pen. Soarynn stills in his lap. "Your name is spelled differently," he explains, writing out her name in sharp, precise letters. "See the difference?"
Soarynn looks at the sheet of paper and then back at the book. Her brows furrow. "Not really," she admits.
Most men would have lost their patience by now. Most men don't read to their wives at night, though. He continues.
"Your name starts with an S-O," he points at the letters on the page, "see?" Soarynn leans forward, her eyes scanning her own name. "So does his," he points at the embossed writing on the book cover.
"...but the rest of the letters are different," she supplies, unsure of her own explanation.
"Yes," he answers.
"How do I spell my name?"
The question stuns him for a moment. Coriolanus remembers a time when every child in the Capitol knew how to spell their name. How to write. How to tell time. How to read. Soarynn was born after the Second Rebellion. Her generation was never given a chance to learn. Only to obey.
His finger moves across his writing on the page. "S-O-A-R-Y-N-N."
"Soarynn," she whispers to herself. "It looks more complicated when you spell it out like that." Coriolanus nods, reading her name in his head. "Most things are," he agrees quietly.
"How do you spell your name?"
So many questions tonight.
He writes his name out anyway.
"It's bigger than my name," Soarynn says, tracing over the letters with her finger. "Do you ever get tired of writing it out?" Something that sounds and feels like a laugh leaves his lips. "I don't," he tells her, "but I also have a signature. That makes writing a little easier."
"Signature," she whispers to herself, "my father has a signature."
"Most men do."
"But not women."
"That is correct."
"Could you make a signature for me?"
He stills at the question. Innocent in nature, but dangerous in theory. Signatures mean agency. Power. Soarynn seems to realize this, too. "I'm sorry," she says quickly, "I don't, I didn't mean to...I don't need a signature."
Coriolanus sets the pen down and places his other hand on her waist, carefully lifting her until she's seated sideways on his lap so he can see her face clearly. She looks scared.
"People usually create their own signatures," he explains, brushing her hair away from her face. "I can't do it for you."
Her shoulders sag in relief. Women can be punished for less than asking for things like that.
"Okay," she says. "Thank you for showing me my name."
He hums, not entirely mad at himself for showing her something as simple as his name. "You'd never seen it before?"
Soarynn shrugs as if it doesn't matter. "I'm sure I have seen it. I just didn't know what I was looking at."
Ah, a cruel irony. Looking at something and not recognizing it. She does the same thing with him. Looks at a monster but trusts it anyway.
"That's a flaw most humans have," he tells her. Soarynn tilts her head at that. "What's a flaw?"
He thinks for a moment. "It's an error. An inconsistency. Something that doesn't belong in the system."
Like this, he thinks to himself, you sitting in my lap while I read to you and write out your name.
"The Capitol doesn't like flaws."
Finally, something they can agree on.
"No, they don't. Now, off to bed."
Soarynn sighs, but she doesn't fight him. She slides off his lap carefully, smoothing down her nightgown like it's second nature to look presentable even at bedtime.
"Thank you for reading to me."
"You're welcome."
He watches her go, small thing she is. As she closes the door behind her, he hears her whisper something else. Not her name.
His.
Coriolanus.
꧁ ꧂
The next night, there are no stories.
The study sits untouched as laughter rings down the hall, coming from the parlor. Smoke curls around the room, and drinks are poured by servants. Coriolanus doesn't host Commanders often, but when he does, he knows just how they like to be entertained.
"District Two is reacting as expected to the enforcements," Commander Creed says over his whiskey. Several men grumble in agreement. The Districts try to rebel all the time. They never win. Not anymore.
"Most things behave better once they're trained," Commander Cardew replies with a lazy smirk. A cigar sits between his fingers with the type of lazy arrogance only a Commander could possess. Commanders are the highest ranking officals in the Capitol below the President.
Cardew's gaze travels along the fireplace mantel and comes to a stop at a framed photograph of Coriolanus and Soarynn at their wedding. Its Capitol procedure that all newlyweds be photographed for the paper. Coriolanus knows that these photos are also put into the Capitol records.
Soarynn looks impossibly young standing next to him. One of his gloved hands rests possessively on her waist. Her eyes are wide, looking at the camera. She was probably in shock. Capitol weddings aren't extravagant, but they get the message across: you belong to this man now. Permanently.
"Speaking of training, how's that little wife of yours, Snow?"
Coriolanus takes a drag of his own cigar before answering. "She's good."
That earns him a few low whistles and shared smiles. Knowing smiles.
"She's that bad, huh?"
"Figures. She looked so... obedient."
That last word draws a sharp reaction out of him.
"She is," he answers swiftly. "She knows her place."
Creed smirks, "Mhm. As all women do. How old is she again?"
"She'll be eighteen in June," Coriolanus answers. "Mature for her age."
"They have to be," someone jokes, and laughter fills the room. It's easy laughter, the kind shared between men who have power. Coriolanus finds himself laughing, too. Crane perks up from his seat by the fireplace.
"Looks like we have a visitor, gentlemen."
They all turn in their seats to find Soarynn standing near the doorway, clearly trying to listen. Coriolanus beckons her over with two fingers. "Come here, darling."
Her eyes widen with nervousness, but she listens anyway. Wives are taught to obey before they question. She's wearing a soft little yellow dress. The kind of thing that makes her look innocent. The neckline is modest, but on her, it's damnnear sinful.
Her hands clasp behind her back as she stops right next to his armchair. Coriolanus looks at ease here. Sitting and smoking with powerful men who decided that girls like her shouldn't be able to read or write. Its contradictary from how he was with her last night, writing her name out, reading to her.
He can see the confusion lingering behind her eyes.
"Soarynn," Creed says, resting his elbows on his knees. "How have you found being married to our dear Commander Snow?" He shares a knowing look with Crane. Soarynn clears her throat, uncomfortable but not enough to find a reason to leave or ignore the question.
"He's been very good to me," she says softly. Creed scoffs a laugh. "Of course he has, sweetheart. You're lucky to be married to a man like him, you know. Coriolanus doesn't like to break his toys."
Soarynn says nothing to that. Coriolanus leans back into his armchair, perfectly comfortable with this conversation. "I've been very well behaved," he says with a smirk. "Isn't that right, darling?"
Soarynn looks down at him as his hand comes to rest at the back of her knee. Calming and claiming at the same time. "Yes," she whispers. Her fingers twist in her dress, but Coriolanus doesn't release her.
"I suspect we'll be seeing little ones running around here soon," Creed muses. "My wife, Livia, is pregnant with our first."
Soarynn forces a polite smile, "What a blessing for your household."
A blessing indeed, Coriolanus thinks to himself. He can already picture it, Soarynn swollen with his child. They'll have more than one, of course. Lineage is important. A legacy. Little blonde Snows to follow in his footsteps. Strong sons and obedient daughters.
"Yes, we're looking forward to finding out the gender."
"Heaven help you if you have a girl first," Coriolanus remarks. Several of the men chuckle. Creed is desperate for a son. "I have no doubt that my wife will provide me with what I require," Creed replies coolly, his eyes lingering on Soarynn.
"They say the younger the womb, the more fertile they are."
Coriolanus feels Soarynn stiffen under his touch. His thumb brushes against her skin absentmindedly. Calming and claiming.
"I have yet to put those rumors to the test, my friend."
"How many children do you want, Soarynn?"
The question makes her freeze. No one ever asks her what she wants. Not really. Women do not get to want.
"I...I would like to have as many children as I can possibly bless my husband with," Soarynn answers carefully. Her voice only shakes the smallest amount. Coriolanus hums in approval. "Exactly. Now, darling, I believe there's laundry to be put away in our bedroom."
Soarynn nearly flies out of the parlor, glad to be dismissed. Cigar smoke curls around Creed. "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"
Coriolanus takes another slow drag of his cigar and hums thoughtfully.
"She's a good girl."
꧁ ꧂
Soarynn finds him in his study later that night.
The Commanders have gone back to their own homes, taking the lingering tension and cigar smoke with them.
"Coriolanus?"
He doesn't even look up from his reports. "Hmm?"
"Will you read to me?"
The pen in his hand stops, and he looks over at her.
Her hair is braided down her back tonight. One of the servants must have done it for her. Her nightgown is blue tonight. Brings out her eyes.
"Not tonight."
Soarynn's eyes shine with tears instantly. She's a sensitive girl. "Did I do something wrong?"
Coriolanus sighs. "No. You've done nothing wrong. I have reports that need to be finished before tomorrow morning. You're a big girl, now, Soarynn. You don't need to be read a bedtime story every night to fall asleep."
Her bottom lip threatens to tremble. He knows how she gets. First the eyes, then the lip, then her voice breaks.
"Oh."
There it is. That tragic little break in her voice.
"Don't cry," he tells her, "I shouldn't even be reading to you in the first place."
"Why not?"
He's taken aback by her boldness. But perhaps this is his own doing. Letting her sit in his lap while he fills her head with fairytales and the idea of happy endings. Coriolanus suddenly rises from his chair. Soarynn takes a small step back. Instincitve.
"Why should I?" He asks, folding his hands behind his back. "It's against every Capitol law there is. Reading is strictly prohibited amongst women. You know this, Soarynn. We all know this."
Soarynn looks up at him with mournful eyes. "But I thought..."
He tilts his head, slowly closing the distance between them.
"You thought what, sweetheart?"
Soarynn swallows and tries again. "I thought maybe you were different."
That stops him in his tracks.
I thought maybe you were different.
He'd almost rather her start crying instead of attempting to humanize him. To make sense of the man she's been married to. That's what good husbands do. They teach their wives to fear, to obey, to never question.
To keep them at arm's length so you can avoid disasters like this late at night.
"Different how?"
Soarynn shifts on her feet. She looks smaller like this. Younger. "Like...like the prince in the story."
Ah, her knight in shining armor. What a pity that she thought he might be good and noble. Kings are often the opposite.
"I've filled your head with fantasies," he realizes, coming to a stop right in front of her. His hand comes to rest at the side of her face. "That was an error on my part. It won't happen again."
It's like he can see her heart break right in front of him.
"What?" She whispers, tears now falling freely.
His thumb brushes a tear away. She's pretty when she cries.
"You thought this was a castle," he says gently. "Look around you, darling. All this is to you is a room. Walls. Women like you don't get happy endings. But you get a place beside me. And soon, you'll get to be the mother of my children. That is how your story ends."
Soarynn looks at him differently now. Like she's finally seeing him for who he is for the first time since she met him.
"I trusted you."
"Well," he says, pressing his fingers into her face, "girls in the Capitol aren't exceptionally smart."
Soarynn doesn't say anything else. Her silence speaks for itself. Coriolanus lets her have it, though. Women are afforded such small luxuries in the Capitol. Instead of correcting her, he kisses her forehead and sends her back to bed.
hii could you please write a young coriolanus x reader arranged marriage trope thank you
☼ plinth legacy pt1 (Coriolanus Snow) ☼
warnings; swearing, death mention, blood mention, some grief.
wc; 7.7k
notes; made the reader sejanus's sister for angst reasons :)
part two.
--
Coriolanus Snow.
A name, much less a person, you had never thought would constantly be on your mind. He wasn’t before. In fact, most days you wouldn’t glance his way twice, unless you had to. He was just another face at the Academy, a friend of your brother, Sejanus. Which, by association, made him a friend of yours. Or, at the very least, acquaintances.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, or that he was unbearable to have a conversation with. Actually, his presence was nice, on the occasions that you were around him for longer than a few minutes at a time. He was polite, and always seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, even if he’d heard it all before from Sejanus.
You started to see more of Coriolanus when they became mentors for the tributes in the districts. You weren’t eligible to participate, and it wasn’t due to grades, but because you’re a year younger than your brother. This didn’t stop him from pulling you to see the tributes in the zoo when the opportunity first struck.
Ma had warned you two to be careful, after what she had seen happen with Coriolanus getting stuck inside. Still, she happily made the sandwiches when Sejanus requested it, and even made extra after he told her what his plan was. He wanted to give them to the tributes inside of the cage, he had a feeling they were hungry, and he was right.
Sejanus couldn’t get them to approach the bars, no matter what he said, or how hard he tried. A few times, you’d tried yourself, attention focused on one person in particular, who was on the far side of the cage, refusing to look your guys’ way.
Your fingers curled around the cold steel, leaning into it. “Marcus.” You breathed, a smile on your face. “Please, we want to help.” His eyes found you, standing above where Sejanus was crouched. “It’s just a sandwich.”
He didn’t budge, of course. Sejanus took a glance behind the two of you, getting to his feet. The sandwich lowering in one hand, as he waved someone over with the other. When you looked, you found Coriolanus coming through the crowd, blonde curls bouncing with each step.
When he caught your eye, he gave you a smile. “Trouble?”
“None of them trust us. And why should they?” Sejanus asked.
“Us?” Coriolanus echoed.
“I’ve been trying, too. But not as broadly.” You shook your head.
A girl had marched up next to the three of you to point to a sign on a pillar next to the enclosure. “It says, ‘Please don’t feed the animals.’”
“They’re not animals, though,” Sejanus told her. “They’re kids, like you and me.”
“They’re not like me! They’re district. That’s why they belong in a cage!” She shouted.
Sejanus sighed. “Once again, like me.” He then looked at Coriolanus. “Coriolanus, do you think you could get your tribute to come over? If she does, the others might. They have to be starving.”
He hesitated, looking through the bars to find his tribute. He took a moment to think, debate whether or not he should. All he needed was a little push to convince him, so you leaned forward, over Sejanus, to place a hand on his arm.
“Please?” The word was sweet, more than you had intended it to be. His eyes moved to you, instead. “Do you have any ideas?”
He took in a breath, “I can’t just treat her like it’s feeding time at the zoo,” He was shaking his head. “Not mine. But I could offer her dinner. Maybe they’ll join after that.”
Sejanus nodded, you removed your hand, giving him a smile. Your brother opened up the backpack for Coriolanus to see the amount of sandwiches and fresh plums that were inside, waiting. “Take whatever. Ma made extra. Please.”
Coriolanus took two sandwiches and two plums, and then moved away to a more private spot, where he sat down on a flat rock. His tribute went up to him to join, and they spoke briefly. She took a bite out of one of the sandwiches, a smile appearing on her face.
The other tributes had moved forward, seemingly gauging her reaction to make sure that it was good. When she swallowed her bite, she turned her head to them. “You all should get one. They’re real good!” She waved her district friend forward. “Go on, Jessup!”
Jessup took his time approaching the fence, black hair sticking to his forehead from the heat. Sejanus wordlessly handed him a sandwich, and a healthy plum. As soon as Jessup had returned to where he’d been before, the other tributes rushed forward.
You stole a sandwich and a plum, holding them to your chest, eyes on Marcus, as he refused to come forward. A dozen hands stuck themselves through the bars, and your brother struggled to fill them quickly. Within the minute, the food was gone, everyone had gotten one.
Except for Marcus.
He had his arms crossed over his chest, face hard. Sejanus pulled a sandwich out of the very bottom of the bag, unaware that the food you were holding was for Marcus, and not for yourself.
“Marcus, this is for you. Take it. Please.” Sejanus said, leaning out as far as he could. “Please, Marcus.” He pleaded. “You must be starving.”
You watched with a sinking heart as Marcus looked Sejanus up and down, and then turned his back to the both of you. One of the other, smaller, boy tributes took the opportunity and ran forward to claim the sandwich, snatching it from Sejanus’s hand.
The news crew showed up after that, pushing a camera into his face. Your brother wasn’t having it, slinging the empty backpack over his shoulder. He held his elbow out for you, so he could escort you through the crowd better.
“I’m going to talk to Marcus.” You told him. “I don’t want him to go hungry.”
“Ma will be upset that I left you here.” Sejanus said, “She told me to watch you.”
“You wouldn’t be leaving me. I have Coryo.” You motioned to Coriolanus, who was in his own world with his tribute. You cleared your throat, getting his attention. “Sejanus is going to leave, you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on me, would you?”
Coriolanus nodded, smiling, “Of course not, why’d you even ask?”
Sejanus was satisfied, lowering his elbow. “I’ll see you at home.”
“Tell Ma I won’t be too late.” You said, watching him weave through the crowd to leave.
And then you turned back to the cage, eyes on Marcus in the corner. He was stiff, unmoving in the corner for another few long minutes. Which was probably done to ensure that you two had left.
When he decided that enough time had passed, he took his time turning around. The first place he looked was in your direction to confirm the coast was clear.
You were certain he was going to shut you out at the sight of you, but he didn’t. He stayed where he was, and so did you. You waited for him to relax, even if it was a little bit, before you bothered to hold up the sandwich and the plum you’d been holding to your chest. The food that you’d been protecting for him.
His face twisted, you stared, drawing in a breath. “Ma made it. I don’t want you to go hungry, Marcus.”
Marcus deliberated, eyes wandering from yours, and then he’d pushed himself off of the wall. You crouched, so that he wouldn’t have to come up the dry moat if he didn’t want to. He took his time, drawing attention to himself.
If he had any respect from the other tributes for abstaining, it had crumbled like his resolve.
Marcus stopped at the bottom of the moat, you held out the sandwich and the plum for him. “We’re so sorry you’re here, Marcus. We never could’ve imagined it’d come to this.” He didn’t move, watching you.
And then all of a sudden he did.
His hands closed around your wrists, yanking you forward. You barely turned your head in time to keep your nose from slamming into the bars, eyes wide, trying to pull back. He had a tight grip on you, squeezing hard enough for you to feel the blood beginning to build in your fingers.
“You aren’t.” He said, voice hard.
“Marcus…” You wiggled, “Marcus, you’re hurting me.”
He tried to pull you in closer, forcing you to press into the bars of the enclosure. “This is what you get, (Y/n). This is what happens when you treat people like animals.”
“But this isn’t my fault!” You shouted, panic settling in. “Let go of me!”
“You’re the one that moved to the Capitol. You didn’t stay in District Two. You’re just as bad as they are.”
“Let go!” You cried, tears in your eyes.
“Get off of her.” A hard voice demanded, a hand shot in front of you to make a grab at Marcus.
Coriolanus was angry, an emotion that you hadn’t seen him wear before. He was always so cool and collected, there wasn’t a lot that could get him riled up. If it did, he would excuse himself, to keep from tarnishing his perfect reputation.
A stern crease was between his eyebrows as he got his hand around one of Marcus’s forearms, bringing him forward with one solid pull.
“I said, get off of her.” His voice was low.
“Or what?” Marcus asked.
“Or I’ll make you wish you never met her.”
Marcus listened, never taking his eyes off of Coriolanus, as if he could jump through the narrow bars to strangle him. His hands released, and you let go of the sandwich and the plum in the process. You caught yourself on the bars before you could fall completely, standing up swiftly, brushing dust off your skirt.
Coriolanus reached for you, and you held onto the red sleeve of his Academy uniform, breathing heavily. You shook your head at Marcus, heart beating in your chest. “Just because we’re here now, doesn’t mean we’ve changed, unlike you.”
The evening was ruined, but the zoo was closing anyway. Coriolanus let you hang onto his elbow, as he began to lead you out while blocking the cameras from bombarding you. You didn’t make it very far before you saw Sejanus, sitting behind a boulder. And even though you could’ve let go of Coriolanus, you didn’t.
You were upset, for multiple reasons. Your intentions were completely different from what Marcus assumed. You weren’t there to save face with District Two, you were there to help him. And even worse, you were mad at Sejanus for dragging you along in the first place.
It was the last time you went to see Marcus with Sejanus, but it was the first time Coriolanus kept you up at night. It was the way he had stepped in, how he reached for you first, instead of waiting to see if you wanted his comfort. It stuck out in your mind, and then it didn’t.
When your mom saw the bruises on your wrists the following day, she told you that you were done. Sejanus would have to do the mentoring on his own. This doesn’t mean that you heard about it any less. You probably heard about it more, getting every detail without ever having to ask, because Sejanus offered it up.
You didn’t see Coriolanus for a few days after that, despite the fact that you wanted to thank him. You were too invested in schoolwork, while also trying to come up with ideas for Sejanus to use with Marcus, because he wanted to make things right between them.
When you did see him next, it was the day of Arachne Crane’s funeral. The whole school had gathered on the front steps of the Academy. The groups were divided neatly and alphabetically by class, but Coriolanus wasn’t. He was in the front row, sitting alongside important individuals, namely President Ravenstill.
You had no idea why, until the Academy clock struck nine, and the entire crowd fell silent. That’s when he rose from his seat and walked to the podium, where he sang the anthem. The president then gave a speech about Arachne, how her life didn’t deserve to be taken when all the Capitol is doing is striving for peace.
You bit your tongue, hard. If they wanted peace, they should treat those in the districts together. You’d heard about what happened to Arachne, what she did to her tribute. She was teasing a starving girl, and while you don’t agree that taking a life is the right form of payback, you can’t blame the tribute.
The funeral procession came around the corner, following the drumming. At first, it was all peacekeepers from the honor guard. The crane was next, attached to a flatbed. And dangling from the hook, with bullets in her dead body, was the district girl. Below, shackled to the truck bed, were the twenty-three other tributes, filthy with their heads down.
You were sick, struggling to breathe, as you imagined the amount of pain they had to be in. As you pictured yourself hanging from that hook, or chained to a truck that you couldn’t even stand on. The rest of the funeral was a blur, as the truck disappeared.
Still, you went to find Coriolanus, ignoring your own brother to do so. He was standing near the podium, talking to Dean Highbottom, but as soon as he left, you slid in.
“You sounded amazing.” You said, Coriolanus turned to you with raised eyebrows. When he saw your face, he gave you a smile. “I wish I sounded half as good.”
“I’m sure you do.” He said, hand on your shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, is everything okay?”
“Ma told me I’m not allowed to help anymore, she saw the bruises.” You said, “I’m fine, though.”
“He left bruises?” That crease between his eyebrows returned.
“He was mad. I would be too.” You muttered. “They got dumped into a zoo, literally. You were there. How did it feel?”
His face contorted, “Wrong, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.”
“You’re right.” You sighed. “I never got to properly thank you for stepping in. I think he would’ve let go eventually, but—”
“You don’t need to thank me, (Y/n).” He interrupted, watching as you reached into your backpack.
“I do, actually.” You pulled out a neat plate of bread pudding that had been sitting flat on the bottom of your bag. When you looked up, you saw his parted lips. “You can’t ask how I know, but I heard that you really like bread pudding. I made enough for you and Tigris, or even if you wanted to share it with Lucy Gray.”
“You bake.” He said.
“On occasion. If you have any requests, I’ll be more than happy to make it for you.” You nodded.
He gave you a smile. “Thank you, (Y/n), but I don’t think I could ever ask that of you.”
“Please, don’t hesitate.” You told him. “I’ll see you around.”
You’d expected to see Coriolanus in the hallways next in passing, not the hospital later that evening. The mentors had gone to the arena with the tributes to do televised interviews, when rebels set off several bombs, killing multiple people. Both of the tributes from Six were killed, as well as the Ring twins—Diana and Apollo. While three mentors had been injured, that being Coriolanus, Androcles Anderson and Gauis Breen. The latter one lost both of his legs.
And of course, with the exit being wide open, four tributes went running for it. The tributes from One were dead before they stepped foot out the door, while the girl from Two had made it to the river. She made it over the wall, but died in the fall. While Marcus… he disappeared completely.
Sejanus was, thankfully, uninjured. The Academy canceled classes, so he came straight home. He didn’t really speak until the following day, when he suggested for the two of you to visit Coryo in the hospital. You’d agreed, because leaving your brother alone while he was that upset didn’t seem right.
Ma made more meat loaf sandwiches, because Coriolanus seemed to like them so much. When you visited him, he sat up in the hospital bed. Sejanus set Coryo’s book bag down on a table, while you took a seat. Together, the three of you enjoyed the sandwiches, while talking about anything but Marcus.
When you were done, you wished for him to get well soon. It would be the second time that he’d stay on your mind, this time lasting longer. You didn’t like that he was hurt, especially when he didn’t deserve to be. The war was between the districts and the government, not the people in-between that were being forced to help.
It didn’t seem to bother Coriolanus, though. He kept fighting for his tribute, and you tried to pry him from your mind. It was easier to do when the Games did finally come around, especially that first day. When the cameras started with a wide shot of the arena as a whole, and the fourteen tributes that stood in a circle around the center.
Then the camera changed, as it slowly zoomed in on twin steel poles, twenty feet high with a crossbeam. And at the center, Marcus hung from shackles at his wrists, beaten bloody, face swollen. When he moved his lips, it showed his broken teeth.
You raised to your feet the same time that Sejanus had. He was standing a few feet in front of you, next to Coriolanus, who was watching him carefully. The only reason why you were allowed to be in the hall was because you were there to support your brother, and you quickly understood why.
Sejanus rushed forward, grabbed an empty chair, and hurled it at the screen, where Marcus’s mangled face was. “Monsters!” He screamed. “You’re all monsters here!”
You watched in silence as he left the hall, leaving you there. No one had moved after him, and you were too stunned for a minute to chase after him. Coriolanus turned in his chair, where he saw you grabbing at your wrists, where the bruises were just healing.
“(Y/n)--” He was worried, shaking his head.
“He’s right.” You breathed, backing up toward the door. “What have we done?”
“Miss Plinth,” A hand had grabbed you.
You jerked away, eyes wild, lips parted. It was Dean Highbottom, and there was a warning on his face, telling you not to cause a scene. You didn’t want to be like your brother. Except, it was too late for him to step in, because the two of you were already too similar. Born from the same tree branch that split into two.
“Get away from me.” The words were harsh, “Don’t touch me.”
He let you go, as you followed after Sejanus. He wasn’t too far, just down the hall, where he was heaving heavy breaths, hands in fists at his sides. The look he gave you could’ve killed anyone, but his expression softened when he realized it was you.
You hugged him, standing there for what felt like forever. Marcus ended up dying later that afternoon by another tribute, presumably a mercy killing. Sejanus encouraged you to go home, telling you that he’d be right behind you in a few hours. You listened, told Ma that Sejanus was upset and that was it.
Well, that’s what you thought, at least. He didn’t come home that night, and as it got later, Ma was getting more worried. She asked you if you had any ideas where he could’ve gone, and you told her no. All you could do was suggest Coriolanus, because they were close, and Coryo seemed to care.
Ma took you to the Snow penthouse, where Tigris opened the door, dressed in a nice lavender dress. With Ma in hysterics, you explained the situation, and she invited you inside to sit in the living room. Tigris made tea, while her grandmother took a seat in a chair nearby. On the television was the arena, but it was too dark to see anything, even with the moonlight.
Tigris poured jasmine tea into cups on the table, while your mom tried to clean herself up with the handkerchief. “You’re such nice people. I’m so sorry to have dropped in on you like this.”
“Any friend of Coriolanus is a friend of us all.” His grandmother said. “Plinch, did you say?”
Your eyebrows twitched, Ma didn’t skip a beat. “Plinth. It’s Plinth.”
“You know, Grandm’am, she sent the lovely casserole when Coriolanus was injured.” Tigris said to remind her.
“I’m sorry. It’s too late.” Ma sniffed.
“Please don’t apologize. You did exactly the right thing.” Tigris patted her shoulder, looking up. Her eyebrows raised suddenly. “Oh, here’s my cousin now! Perhaps he knows something.”
You turned, finding Coriolanus gently shutting the door behind him. He gave you a gentle smile, but when you didn’t reciprocate, it dropped slightly. “Mrs. Plinth, (Y/n), what an unexpected pleasure. Is everything all right?” He asked, coming closer.
“Oh, Coriolanus. It isn’t. Not at all. Sejanus hasn’t come home. (Y/n) said he left the Academy this morning, and I haven’t seen him since. I’m so worried." She said. “Where can he be? I know Marcus being like that hit him—” She placed a hand on your knee, hand squeezing. “Them hard. Do you know? Do you know where he could be?”
“He was upset, ma’am. BUt I don’t know that it’s any cause for worry. He probably just needed to blow off some steam. Took a long walk or something. I’d do the same thing myself.” He tried to ease her.
“But it’s so late. It isn’t like him to up and disappear, not without letting his ma know.”
“Is there anywhere you can think of he might go? Or somebody he might visit?” Tigris asked.
Ma shook her head. “No. No. Your cousin’s his only friend.”
Coriolanus looked at you, where you hand your palms on your lap. “You know, if he’d wanted company, I think he’d have come to me first. You can see how he might have needed some time alone to… to make sense of all this. I’m sure he’s all right. Otherwise you’d have heard of it.”
“Did you check with the Peacekeepers?” Tigris asked.
Ma nodded. “No sign of him.”
“You see?” Coriolanus asked. “There’s been no trouble. Maybe he’s even home by now.”
“Perhaps you should go and check.” Their grandmother suggested.
Tigris gave her a look. “Or you could just call.”
Ma shook her head. “No. Your grandma’s right. Home is the place we should be. And I should let you all get to bed.”
“Coriolanus will walk you.” Tigris said.
“Of course.” Coriolanus nodded, you got to your feet.
“My car’s waiting down the block.” Ma told them, getting up as well. She smoothed down her hair. “Thank you. You’ve all been so kind. Thank you.” She reached back to grab her handbag, you looked away from Coriolanus to the television, where you stopped.
There, on the screen, a shadowy figure came out the barricade. The moonlight catering the side of his face, the features eerily familiar. He was carrying something in his hands, as he crossed the arena to Marcus’s corpse, where he stopped. Above laid a sleeping girl, the tribute that had killed your friend to keep him from suffering.
“Shall I walk you to your car?” Coriolanus asked, Ma had begun toward him. “I bet you’ll find Sejanus in bed.”
“No.” The word was a whisper out of your mouth. “No, Coryo.” He’d turned his attention to you, mouth opening to speak, when you did it first. “Sejanus is in there.”
Coriolanus came closer, passing Ma. You reached out to grab him, hand on his shoulder. Sejanus knelt down, and tried his best to arrange Marcus in an appropriate manner. He rolled Marcus on his back, straightened his legs and tried to fold his arms over his chest. And then he stood up and held his hand out over Marcus’s body.
You couldn’t help the tears that sprung into your eyes.
“That’s your son in there? What’s he doing?” Asked their grandmother.
“He’s putting bread crumbs on the body.” You murmured, lips trembling. “So Marcus has food on his journey.”
“His journey where? He’s dead!”
“Back to wherever he came from.” Ma told them. “It’s what we do, back home. When someone dies.”
You swallowed thickly, a tear running down your face. A handkerchief materialized out of Coriolanus’s pocket, he passed it to you. “Thank you, Coryo.”
The phone rang a moment later. “Is the whole city up?” Their grandmother sighed.
“Excuse me.” Coriolanus said, holding your gaze for a moment, as he walked away. He turned his body away to speak.
You wiped your eyes with the handkerchief, and then folded it neatly to place back on the coffee table. You needed to leave, to go to Sejanus. Why hadn’t he mentioned this to you? Was it because he knew it was a stupid idea?
When Coriolanus came away from the phone, he sighed. “That was the Head Gamemaker. She’d like you to meet her at the arena to collect Sejanus, and I’m to accompany the both of you.”
“Is he in trouble?” Ma asked, eyes wide. “With the Capitol?”
“Oh, no. They’re just concerned with his well-being. Shouldn’t be long, but don’t wait up.” He told his family.
The three of you shuffled out of the apartment after that, going down the elevator and through the lobby. Your parents’ car rolled up silently, and the three of you got inside, with Coriolanus requesting the arena. The Avox nodded, nad began to drive down the streets in a hurry.
“First time we saw the Capitol, it was night, like this.” Ma spoke quietly.
“Oh, yes?” Coriolanus asked, looking at you.
“Sejanus sat right where you are, saying, ‘It’ll be all right, Ma. It’ll be okay.’ Trying to calm me down. When we all knew it was a disaster,” Ma looked out the window. “But he was so brave. So good. Only thinking of his ma.”
“Hm. Must have been a big change.” Coriolanus said.
“Family and friends cut us off.” You told him, adjusting in your seat.
“No new ones to be made here. Strabo—their pa, that is—still thinks it was the right thing to do. No kind of future in Two. His way of protecting us. His way of keeping Sejanus and (Y/n) from the Games.”
“Ironic, really. Given the circumstances.” Coriolanus said. “Now, I don’t know what Dr. Gaul has in mind, but I imagine she wants your help getting him out of there.”
“I don’t know if I can. Him so upset and all. I can try, but he’ll have to think it’s the right thing to do.” She said, glancing at you. “I can’t let you go inside. You two have always been close, but I don’t want you in there.”
“I don’t want her to go inside, either.” Coriolanus chimed in. “Maybe there will be a different way.”
When you got to the arena, there were people already waiting outside of the doors. A dozen Peacekeepers, a good handful of Gamemakers, including Dr. Gaul. You approached tentatively, unsure about her presence. She didn’t always come off stable, that’s why you tried to keep your distance.
Coriolanus noticed this, choosing to stand between you two.
“At least you’re punctual.” Dr. Gaul said. “Mrs. Plinth, I presume? And little (Y/n).”
You pressed your lips together. Ma nodded, “Yes, yes. I’m sorry if Sejanus has caused any inconvenience. He’s a good boy, really, It’s just he takes things so to heart.”
“No one could accuse him of being indifferent.” She agreed, looking at Coriolanus. “Any idea how we might rescue your best friend, Mr. Snow?”
“What’s he doing?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring the comment.
“Just kneeling there, looks like.” Dean Highbottom said, eyeing you. “Possibly in some kind of shock.”
“He appears calm. Perhaps you could send the Peacekeepers in now without startling him?” Coriolanus suggested.
“Too risky.” Dr. Gaul shot it down.
“What about putting his mother on a speaker, or a bullhorn?” He asked. “If you can darken the screen, surely you can manipulate the audio as well.”
“On the broadcast. But in the arena, we’d alert every tribute to the fact that there’s an unarmed Capitol boy in their midst.” Dean Highbottom said.
Coriolanus didn’t speak for a second. “What do you propose?”
“We think someone he knows needs to slip in as unobtrusively as possible and coax him out.” Dr. Gaul looked directly at you. “Namely, her.”
“No.” Coriolanus said immediately, shaking his head so hard that his blonde curls started to bounce. “She can’t go in there. I will.”
“Oh, no!” Ma cried. “It can’t be Coriolanus. The last thing we need is to put another child in danger. I’ll do it.”
“What we need is someone who can make a run for it, if necessary. If your daughter won’t, then Mr. Snow is the man for the job.” Dr. Gaul motioned to the Peacekeepers, who came over at her motion to dress him in body armor. “This vest should protect your vital organs. Here’s your pepper spray and a flash unit that will temporarily blind your enemies, should you make any.”
Coriolanus looked down at the bottle of pepper spray. “What about a gun? Or at least a knife?”
“Since you’re not trained, this seems safer. Remember, you’re not in there to do damage; you’re in there to bring your friend out as quickly and quietly as possible.” Dr. Gaul told him.
You started to shake your head, “Coryo, I can’t ask you to do this.”
“You aren’t asking.” He looked at you. “I’m volunteering.”
“He’s just a boy. Let me call my husband.” Ma begged.
Dean Highbottom gave Coriolanus a small smile. “He’ll be all right. It takes a lot to kill a Snow.”
You watched as Coriolanus’s face dropped, he sighed. And then he looked at you. “I’ll bring Sejanus out. Don’t worry.”
“Be careful.” You told him.
The Peacekeepers took him to the arena, where he disappeared inside. Your attention shifted to the news truck with the live feed of the tributes. It was dark though, too dark. You could barely make out anything, meaning you might as well had not been looking at all.
You were able to make out their figures, as Coriolanus slowly approached Sejanus to not scare him. They stood there, the minutes dragging on for what felt like forever, until they finally made the movement to leave, but not without Marcus’s body. They picked it up, made it a good deal across the arena before the other tributes came up to them. Less than a minute later, they came out.
And you were there in an instant, because you refused to leave without seeing either of the boys, while Ma went home. You had to push past the Peacekeepers to see Coriolanus and Sejanus, sitting on the tile. You crouched in front of them, hands on your knees.
“That was stupid of you, Sejanus.” You told your brother, looking at the blood pooling on the ground. “But you did what I couldn’t do.”
And then you looked at Coriolanus, who had his eyes on you already. You could see the scrapes on his face, his chin mostly, and the blood on his forehead. You reached out, he winced, but let you touch the area around the wounds.
“Thank you, Coryo.” You whispered.
His eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, (Y/n).”
From then on, seeing Coriolanus for longer than a few minutes at a time was rare. You looked forward to it each time. You saw him when Sejanus announced the Plinth prize, the sparkle in his eye at the mention of it.
He stopped by a couple days later, after Sejanus had gone to bed and Ma was cooking in the kitchen. You think he wanted to talk to Sejanus, possibly about the whole ordeal in the arena, but he had taken his sleeping medication. With the dosage he was on, there was no waking him.
You were sitting at the kitchen counter, swiveling side to side on the stool, talking to Ma as she baked her pies. You were about to go to bed, dressed in your pajamas, the only reason why you hadn’t was because you were waiting for her to put the peach pie in the oven first. At the sight of Coriolanus, the cuts on his face, and the smile on his lips, you’d clammed up.
“I was just heading off to bed.” You said to him, sliding from the chair.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a piece of pie, (Y/n)?” Ma asked you, worry on her face.
“I’ll have a piece tomorrow.” You told her. “Besides, I think Coryo will have a piece big enough for the both of us, isn’t that right?” You smiled.
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Goodnight.” You murmured, pausing long enough to let Ma kiss your forehead. You waved to Coriolanus, and then disappeared around the corner, where curiosity stopped you.
Except, what they talked about while he enjoyed the blackberry pie wasn’t important, just about Sejanus and how the university would be better when he graduated. The real talk came after, when Pa wanted to see him. And Coriolanus went inside, closing the door behind him, which you then pressed your ear to.
“You look just like your father.”
“I hear that a lot,” Coriolanus said. “Did you know him?”
“Our business overlapped at times.” Pa said. “It’s striking, the resemblance. But you’re nothing like him, really.” He paused for a moment. “Nothing at all. Or you’d never have gone into that arena after my son. Impossible to imagine Crassus Snow risking his life for me. I keep asking myself why you did it.”
“I couldn’t let (Y/n) go inside. And he’s my friend.”
“No matter how many times I hear that, it’s difficult to believe. But even from the beginning, Sejanus singled you out. Maybe you take after your mother, huh? She was always gracious to me when I came here on business before the war. Despite my background. The very definition of a lady. Never forget it.” Pa said, there was another pause. “Are you like your mother?”
Coriolanus didn’t speak right away. “I’d like to think I am, in some respects.”
“In what respects?”
“Well, we shared a fondness for music.”
“Music, huh?”
“And I do think we both believed that good fortune was… something to be repaid… on a daily basis. Not taken for granted.” Coriolanus said.
“I’d agree with that.”
“Oh, good. Yes, well, so… Sejanus.”
“Sejanus. Thank you, by the way, for saving his life.”
“No thanks necessary. As I said, he’s my friend.”
“And (Y/n), is she your friend too?” Pa asked.
“Yes, she is.”
“She tells me that you’ve done a lot for her lately.” Pa said slowly. “You helped her at the zoo?”
“That was nothing.”
“I wouldn’t consider it so. She could’ve gotten seriously hurt if you hadn’t stepped in. You saw the bruises.” He said. “You’ve checked up with her since. And volunteered to keep her safe when Dr. Gaul suggested that she should go inside of the arena.”
“Well—”
“Coriolanus, in District Two, there are traditions we have for families like ours.” Pa said, your eyebrows drew together. “Wealthy families, I mean. I’m not sure if the Capitol has the same beliefs.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following.” Coriolanus said.
“Arranged marriage.”
You felt your blood run cold, but at the same time, the heat flamed in your face, licking your cheeks. You pulled your ear away for a second, thinking that you shouldn’t be listening in on this conversation.
“I’ve heard of families coming together in the Capitol, but it’s not very common.”
“It’s for more than just wealth, it’s to combine names as well.” Pa told him. “Snow is a grand name, don’t you think?”
“As is Plinth.” Coriolanus agreed.
“So, you understand what I’m implying then? What would your grandmother think?”
“I think that she wouldn’t agree to doing it so soon.”
“Of course not, it would happen after graduation, before university.” Pa said, “Will you give me your home phone? I’d like to discuss this with your grandmother.”
After that point, seeing Coriolanus would be painful… except, you didn’t see him the following day. In fact, you didn’t see him again at all. The next time his name was brought up in your house was with Sejanus’s, which was tied in with the words District Twelve and Peacekeepers.
“What?” You asked, coming around the hallway corner. Ma’s eyes widened. “Sejanus is where?”
“Oh, darling, you weren’t supposed to hear that. We wanted to tell you tonight.”
You shook your head. “Sejanus and Coryo went to District Twelve? Why?”
“I believe Coriolanus Snow signed himself up.” Pa told you. “As for Sejanus, it was the best we could do. He won’t be there long.”
“And what about Coriolanus?”
Pa made a face, tilted his head, “Twenty years, is what I was hearing.”
Your mouth dropped open, a reaction that you couldn’t stop in time. “Is that the same for Sejanus?”
“Yes.”
The only option you were given to keep in touch was letters. You could write to either of them whenever you wanted. Ma even told you that she was going to pack them food to send, stuff that they’d never be able to get in the districts, let alone Twelve.
With it being summer, you had plenty of time on your hands to write, but every time you picked up the pencil, the words escaped you. Everything that you’d been bottling to save for Sejanus seemed meaningless. So, you mostly replied to what Sejanus said, which could be a lot. He carried the conversations mostly, and you told him that you missed him. And you’d continue to miss him until he finally came back.
Which would never happen, not that you knew that at the time. It was a quiet day when the news reached your parents about what happened. That your brother had got caught up in rebel activities, which was treason. He was hanged without a trial, without a single letter sent home. For once, your family’s money couldn’t buy his way out of this one.
A black hole appeared in your chest, sucking in everyone’s words, their emotions. Ma couldn’t help you, even though she tried. She spent more time with you, trying to get you to speak, but all you wanted was to forget. Or to go back in time and tell Sejanus he needed to stop, that his actions would cost him his life.
Sejanus.
The boy you grew up with, the one you trusted with every secret, the one that kept you safe. Who you’d play with as a child when no one else would, who would help you with your homework when you fell behind. His sweetness, his hopefulness, his personality. He’s gone. He’s gone and you never got to say goodbye.
All you gave him was half-assed letters. If you’d known that it would be the last time you talked to him, you would’ve done more. You would’ve said so much more.
It was like almost every piece of him was gone, until the next wave of news came. While Sejanus would never get to leave District Twelve, Coriolanus had been honorably discharged. He was coming home to the Capitol. And with it being weeks after Sejanus’s death, it opened up a conversation that you thought was done for good.
The Snow’s were falling. You’d heard the news about Tigris and their grandmother almost immediately after Coriolanus had left. They had to sell their apartment, the nice penthouse you went to visit once. They couldn’t afford to keep it, so they downgraded, but the apartment lay empty.
Pa had decided that it was time to revisit the topic of an arranged marriage when he heard that Coriolanus was coming back. Ma really liked Coryo, because he was such a good friend to Sejanus. With your brother being gone, their attention had shifted a little, split between you and Coryo. Why keep it that way when there was a solution?
His grandmother agreed to it. It took a little bit of convincing, but at the mention of Pa buying the penthouse back as a gift, it made her cave. A letter was promptly sent to Coriolanus, who wasn’t to leave Twelve for another few days while they settled his paperwork.
And his reply? ‘It would be my pleasure.’
As you straighten out the dress again, you look at the time on the clock that the train station has on display. Coriolanus should be arriving at any minute. It was requested that he were to be picked up by a Peacekeeper truck to take him to the Citadel, but Pa pulled strings, as he always does. He wanted your face to be the first thing that Coriolanus saw when he stepped off.
You didn’t agree to this. You wanted to put this off for as long as possible. Sejanus chose to go to District Twelve to follow Coriolanus. They were close. He was the last one to have a conversation with your brother when he was alive. Besides, you’re set to marry him in a few short weeks. His suit measurements take place in two days.
A horn sounds, you look up from your polished shoes, the one scuf you managed to get this morning on the walk here. It was too late to turn around and change the shoes. Besides, they’re the only pair that matches this dress. A whole new outfit bought for Coriolanus, and he won’t even realize it.
The train pulls in the station, blowing cool air into your face. You take in a deep breath, trying to correct your posture. This will be the first time you’ve seen Coriolanus in months. Does he even know that you’re here to greet him?
It doesn’t matter. Once the doors open, you take a few steps toward them, trying to be casual. It’s hard to, with the hammering in your chest. You press your lips together, regripping the handbag, coming to a stop in front of the doors. The first few people that file out look like regular Capitol workers.
You’re too busy looking for Coriolanus’s blonde curls, that you almost miss him stepping out of the doors. His eyes flicker up for a moment, likely to collect his bearings, glancing over you.
You must register in his mind the next second, because he looks directly at you again, stepping off the train. You swallow, eyes stuck on his hair. Or rather, the lack of it. His head’s been shaved.
“(Y/n).” He smiles, “I wish I would’ve known you’d be here, I would’ve had something for you.”
“Your curls…” You murmur, face beginning to contort. If they got rid of his hair when he was enlisted, was the same done to Sejanus?
Coriolanus closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you into a tight hug. You press your forehead to his chest, hands gripping the clothes he’s wearing as you fight off the tears that threaten you. You don’t want to cry, you’ve spent so much of your time doing exactly that. For once, you want to be in control.
“I’m so sorry, (Y/n).” He says, “I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been.”
“I miss him.” The words are strained, you pull your head back, looking at Coriolanus. “I wish he would’ve told me what he was planning.”
“He’d never put you in danger.”
“I know.” You back away from the hug. Coriolanus holds out his elbow for you to take, you begin to lead him to the car. “I trust you’ve learned a lot these past few months. Did you get to see Lucy Gray, at least?”
His face smooths out, this was not the right question to ask. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “I did, but her lifestyle is much different from mine.”
You nod. “You’re not district.”
“I’m not covey.” He corrects, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips.
“Oh, so she had you singing?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” He looks away, at someone passing by.
It’s quiet between the two of you for a moment. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but much like the letters to your brother, the words have left you. You chew on the inside of your cheek.
“You have something on your mind.” Coriolanus says, it’s not a question.
You sniff. “It’s um… It’s about Sejanus, just one thing I have to know before I can stop thinking about him.”
“He wouldn’t want you to do that.”
“It’s to put my mind at ease.” You stop outside of the car. “I know it’s not your tradition, Coriolanus, but were you able to…”
He nods. “I was.”
You meet his eyes. “The bread crumbs? They let you see his body?”
“He has food on his journey.” He tells you.
You breathe out a sigh. “Oh, good. Ma will be happy to hear that.”
Neither of you move for the car door, standing there, staring at each other. He eventually starts to shake his head. “(Y/n), I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
“It’s too late for that.” You tell him. “We can talk about it more later on, in a few days.”
Coriolanus reaches for the car door, motioning for you to go inside first. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
You don’t move to get inside. “Thank you for being such a good friend to my brother.”
He tilts his head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“You’re the only piece of him I have left.” You shift on your feet, “I have to thank you.”
Coriolanus Snow comes back to the Capitol, older, changed—and silent about what happened in District 12. Seraphina thought she was ready for his return. She wasn’t.
The Story:
Coriolanus Snow wears his officer uniform with pride while he steps down on the platform at Capitol Station. The last time he walked over these stones, he was just a boy.
Now, after witnessing everything as his time as a peacekeeper, he is a man.
He finally made it to the Capitol, the place he would never leave behind again. The home of the Snow legacy. His home.
After hours of keeping control in the districts as a peacekeeper, studying hard to enter the officer training and finally becoming a real officer, he made his way out of district 12 as fast as he could.
He strolls past the train, telling a porter to let his luggage get delivered at his house instead of handing it to him. Coriolanus has got a place to go and there’s no time for delivering his own luggage at his house.
Coriolanus wants to get there as soon as possible, he can’t wait to see her face again, which will probably be shocking when she sees Coriolanus in front of her. He didn’t write a single letter during his time as a peacekeeper, not even when they announced he was leaving for the Capitol. He didn’t write to anyone, not his family, not his friends, everybody wondered how the great Coriolanus Snow was doing in district 12.
Oh Seraphina, his girl would be so proud of him for making it back to the Capitol so soon.
She would understand everything. Why he cheated in the Hunger Games to make sure Lucy Gray Baird would win, why he didn’t write during his days as a peacekeeper and why he will stand in front of her front door unannounced.
He can’t wait to wrap his arms around her again, peppering her face with kisses just like he used to do while they were dating at the Academy.
Well, they are technically still dating, but it’s been a long while since they have last seen each other.
Coriolanus remembers how she kissed him in front of every Academy student when Lucy Gray Baird won the Hunger Games, or even better, when Coriolanus Snow won the Hunger Games. She had tears in her eyes from pride and he promised her he would take her out for dinner as soon as possible, the day he received the Plinth prize.
But things took quite a turn. Coriolanus was caught cheating and he was sent to district 12 to work as a peacekeeper for twenty years as a punishment. There was no time for goodbye, no time to explain why he had to leave his girlfriend behind.
Coriolanus feels some guilt slide through his body. Seraphina had to miss him every day and she just had to guess whatever he was doing out there. But Coriolanus quickly pushes that feeling away when he catches himself.
Hell, that time was over. Now he’s here again, ready to never leave her side again.
**
Seraphina groans when she hears the doorbell rings, her book is finally getting interesting. She has already read multiple chapters, but she’s still debating whether to keep reading. Whoever is at their door better have a good reason to be interrupting her.
“I’ll get it!”
Seraphina yells through the halls of their house to no one in particular. Both of her parents are home, but neither of them would waste their time on opening the front door when they’re busy working in their home offices.
Just like Seraphina expected there is no response from either of them.
Moving her hair to rest down on her back and adjusting the material of her dress, she moves towards the front door. She really isn't in the mood for any stupid salesman trying to convince her to buy some useless tool. If it’s that same guy from a few days ago, she will close the door right back in his face.
Screw the politeness.
But the person that stands at the front door isn’t any salesman, not even a neighbour. It’s Coriolanus. Her…boyfriend (?) who she hasn’t seen or heard from since months.
She notices he has a military buzzcut instead of his usually curly hair and he changed his Academy uniform for an officer's uniform. He stands tall but not in the way he used to, he doesn’t have to pretend he fits in this world, he just does.
Seraphina’s speechless, she never expected him to show up today. She thought he had forgotten about her, maybe he hit it off with Lucy Gray Baird (even though she would never admit she was jealous of her).
Coriolanus lets Seraphina take all of him in, it must be a lot for her to see how he changed from a boy into a man. He studies her, her hair has grown and her face looks a little more slim than he remembered, but she still looks like an angel that has fallen from heaven.
And he’s lucky, she’s all his.
“Hey angel.”
He speaks softly, curling a lock of her blonde hair around his gloved finger. Seraphina lets him, although she doesn’t feel the same butterflies flying in her stomach like she would feel during their time at the Academy.
“Coriolanus.”
She says, still not quite believing Coriolanus is standing in front of her. She expected their first meeting would be more..well…planned? Seraphina kept wishing for a letter, not even an elaborate letter, just a sign that he didn’t forget about her.
But he didn’t write, not even once. He didn’t even bother trying to contact her about his return to the Capitol, which would turn her entire world upside down. And that didn’t just bother her, it hurt.
“You look more beautiful than I remember.”
Coriolanus compliments, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. He notices how Seraphina doesn’t move away, but doesn’t lean into his touch either.
Is she mad at him? Nonsens, he is here now, isn’t he?
“You didn’t write.”
Seraphina whispers, taking his wrist gently in one of her hands to pull his hand away from her cheek. Even though her parents would be delighted to hear Coriolanus is back in the Capitol and wouldn’t even mention he’s total disappearance, Seraphina can’t let it go.
He didn’t try to contact her and that meant something, right?
Coriolanus frowns at the sight of his girlfriend not being head over heels by his return. Instead of jumping in his arms, she moves his hand away from her cheek to stop the minimal touch. He moves closer, placing back his hand on her cheek despite her earlier protest.
“Seraphina, you don’t know how-..”
“You’re right, I didn’t know anything, Coriolanus!”
Seraphina interrupts him, her voice rising in anger she didn’t know she had in her.
“I didn’t know anything because you never told me anything. I waited here, at this front door, for any sign of you. But the phone never rang and there were no letters delivered, everyone was wondering where you were and if you were okay. I was worried sick!”
Seraphina remembers feeling helpless after another day of no information about Coriolanus’ whereabouts. The people around her started to ask questions before they started wondering and making up rumors.
After a couple of weeks, the news reported Coriolanus now worked as a peacekeeper in some district and Seraphina her heart dropped. Coriolanus was gone and she didn’t know when or if she was ever going to see her again.
“You think I could just write freely to you? You think those guys were not watching everything I did, memorizing every breath I took?”
Coriolanus asks her, his voice rising as well even though he really wishes it didn’t. The last thing he wants to do right now, is fight with his girlfriend while they should be celebrating his return.
Right now, he just needs to make her see some sense so they can still have an enjoyable evening.
“You could have just written one letter, one! It would have been enough, I just needed to know you were okay.”
Seraphina protests. She knows that being a peacekeeper can’t be easy, especially for someone this young, but he really wants her to believe he couldn’t send one single letter during his time there?
God, he has been there for multiple weeks if not months.
“I wanted to write to you, Seraphina. You have to believe me. But you know how dangerous things could’ve gotten if they found a letter to you? What if they found out I had a beautiful girl at home?”
He hopes she will calm down sooner if he slips in a little compliment. Coriolanus hopes he isn’t pushing his luck and he places a hand on her bicep, grinning softly when she lets him, his girl trying to hide away her smile.
See? Everything will be alright after he calms her down.
“I just wanted to know you cared, Coriolanus.”
Seraphina admits, her voice sounding more fragile than before. She has spent hours tossing and turning around in her bed, wondering if he still loved her and wasn’t messing around with some district girl while she was waiting for him.
She never thought she thought a district girl would form a competition, but there she was worrying about an imaginary girl trying to hit on her boyfriend.
“I cared, Seraphina, I cared every day. God, every day I wished I was back home with you. I wanted to kiss you again, I daydreamed of your lips while I was cleaning up the mess in district 12.”
Coriolanus responds, relieved to hear his girlfriend giggling. It’s just a soft little giggle that comes out of her mouth but it’s enough for him.
The only thing he wishes for right now, is for her to call him Coryo again instead of Coriolanus.
“Can you let me in, please? I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”
He pushes, eager to get inside of her house. Seraphina seems to be taken back by his request, still not really fully processing what has happened in the past few minutes.
Even though Coriolanus acts like he’s still the same boy she fell in love with a few months ago, she sees right through it. The way his grip on her bicep tightens when she speaks, the way he talks to her like she’s someone younger than him, not an equal.
She knows he’s keeping things from her, she just doesn’t know how bad they are.
And so, even though she knows it’s wrong in some way, she steps aside to let him in her house.
**
Seraphina walks down the streets of the Capitol alone, she promised her mother she would go and buy the tea that Seraphina’s grandmother loved in preparation for their visit in a few days.
Coriolanus spent the night at her house after a shared dinner with her parents.
Just like expected, her parents were excited to welcome Coriolanus Snow back at their dinner table, eager to hear all his stories about his peacekeeper time. Coriolanus entertained them just like he always used to do and her parents offered him to stay for the night.
Seraphina didn’t mind him staying over, she just wished her parents didn’t promise her boyfriend something without first discussing it with her first.
Yes, she still considered Coriolanus her boyfriend. Especially after last night.
Even though she promised herself she wouldn’t let things get anywhere close to anything sexual, they celebrated his return in between the sheets, moaning and breathing loudly.
But how could she have resisted him when he gained so much muscle from all the training he had to endure?
She has to admit, his physique is better than ever and that new buzzcut makes her feel things she has never felt before.
Regardless of the fact that Coriolanus promised her he would tell her everything, he didn’t want to waste another word on his peacekeeper stories when they retreated back into her bedroom after the dinner with her parents.
He quickly shushed her when she tried to start the conversation by placing his lips on hers, trying to push his tongue in her mouth to fight a battle. He won, of course.
Coriolanus doesn’t accompany her to the tea shop today. He wanted to, he really did. He didn’t want to be away from his girl now that he finally returned to the place where he belongs, but he has to.
There’s a lot of things to sort out before he can start living his well deserved new life.
Seraphina walks around the corner, the tea shop already in sight before she stops to greet the one and only Mrs. Plinth, also known as Ma Plinth.
She has talked to Ma Plinth a couple of times at Academy events, since Sejanus had insisted on introducing them to each other. Ma Plinth often sends pastries to Seraphina her house because she knows Seraphina has a huge sweettooth, for which Seraphina always sends a card in return.
“Seraphina, how nice to see you!”
The older woman dressed in a dark green dress greets her, placing a gentle arm on Seraphina. Her tanned skin is a huge contrast to Seraphina's quite light skin, a gene from her mother’s side.
“Likewise.”
Seraphina exclaims, smiling softly at the woman in front of her. She has always admired her strength, moving from the districts to the Capitol must have been hard. But not as hard as trying to fit in here. The Capitol standards are brutal.
Seraphina hears the nasty rumors being spread around the Plinth’ family and it breaks her heart every single time.
Ma Plinth is such a beautiful soul and she doesn’t deserve to be envied just because she was born in district 2 and doesn’t always know how to carry herself.
“I heard Coriolanus returned from district 12. You must be delighted.”
Ma Plinth says and searches for the sparks in Seraphina’s eyes at the mention of Coriolanus. Seraphina smiles at convincing as she can, before she answers:
“I am, I’m relieved he’s back home. How is Sejanus doing? Any sight of him returning home?”
Seraphina quickly changes the subject, remembering how Sejanus left the Capitol for district 12 at the same time as Coriolanus did. But Sejanus left because he wanted to do something good for Panem, not because he was forced to.
Ma Plinth's smile disappears from her face and she wraps her arms protectively around herself. Oh god, did Seraphina say something wrong?
“Dear child, haven't you heard?”
**
Coriolanus slightly jumps when he hears the front door being slammed shut.
He places his cup of coffee down on the small table in front of him and puts his newspaper away, the article about a district scandal not quite catching his attention.
He has been busy with scheduling an appointment with Dr. Gaul, the woman who scared him even though he didn’t want to admit it. But she did admire his work, and that mattered to him.
Coriolanus smiles when he sees his girlfriend walking into the living room, but quickly rises to his feet as he takes in her angry expression. Did somebody do something to her? Did she fight with somebody on her way to the tea shop?
Was that specific tea out of stock?
“How dare you!”
Seraphina yells, throwing her handbag angrily down on the couch, which flies past his head dangerously close. Oh boy, Coriolanus thinks, realizing he's the problem.
“Seraphina, what’s wrong?”
He walks over to her, placing a reassuring arm on her shoulder which she quickly pushes off her. Coriolanus frowns and his jaw clenches, he doesn’t understand why Seraphina’s mood changed all of the sudden.
Last night she was screaming his name in pleasure and swallowed his cum like a good slut, now she’s almost throwing her handbag at his face and it looks like she might explode.
“You tell me, Coriolanus! You tell me why I had to find out from Plinth that Sejanus is dead!”
Seraphina walks away from him and lets herself fall on the couch in defeat, flinching when she remembers the light leaving Ma Plinth’s eyes when she mentioned Sejanus.
All of that could have been avoided if Coriolanus just told her his best friend died.
Coriolanus sighs, he really didn’t want her to find out yet. Sejanus screaming for Coriolanus’ help while he was pushed the noose stills haunts him even though he doesn’t like to admit it.
“I wanted to tell you, it just wasn’t the …right moment.”
Coriolanus admits. He couldn’t imagine ruining the moment of him returning to his girlfriend by dropping the news of Sejanus’ death. He would tell her about that idiot of a rebel later when they would have been settled together.
“When? After another night of getting what you want. Another night of taking advantage of me?”
Seraphina scoffs, feeling utterly stupid for letting Coriolanus sleep in her bed last night. She should’ve known better, she should not have trusted him this soon after she literally saw that Coriolanus Snow changed.
Now she knows he didn’t change for the better.
Coriolanus storms over to her after that accusation. He takes a hold of her biceps, ignoring the terrified look on her face and pulls her on her feet. The slap is delivered to her face before he even realizes what he has done.
Seraphina stumbles back but Coriolanus keeps her from falling on the ground. She can’t believe he just did that, he never hurted her in all those months of dating and she never thought he would’ve.
“How dare you accuse me of that!”
He grunts, pulling her in closer to their faces are inches apart, before spitting:
“How dare you accuse me of taking advantage of you when I spent all those days suffering in the districts just to see your face again.”
Seraphina eyes tear up, scared of what Coriolanus has turned into. This isn’t the same boy she used to kiss under the stars after she snuck away from her house, nor the boy who listened to her rant about her favorite book, while looking at her in awe.
Coriolanus Snow turned into a man, a dangerous man.
“You changed.”
Seraphina whispers and those two words hit Coriolanus in a way he never thought were possible.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
She was supposed to welcome him back with open arms, fall into him, trust him like she always had. And now she’s looking at him like he’s a monster.
But he isn’t a monster. Yes, he did some questionable things in district 12 but never with the wrong intentions. The only thing he wanted to do was to return home to his girl.
And if she doesn’t see that, he will make her see that.
“You know exactly who I am. I’m your man, the man who fought for his life to get back to you. Who will give up everything to kiss you, who will fight anyone in your way, who will get you everything you could ever dream off.. You’re mine in the same way I’m yours and I won’t let you walk away like that.”
He hisses before forcefully pressing a kiss to her lips. At first, she tries to push him away from her but when he squeezes her hips harshly, she stops and kisses him back.
See? She loves him.
When she pulls back after a while, he lets her, but not without dropping his forehead against hers. They both breathe heavenly, their make-out session leaving them breathless.
“You’re scaring me.”
Seraphina admits, her hands finding the hem of his dressshirt. She has to admit kissing him felt familiar, it didn’t make her feel uncomfortable in the way she thought it would make her. Maybe there is still a fragment of that old boy in him after all.
Coriolanus didn’t feel bad after his confession, compassion for fear was far from his mind. Good, he thinks, let her be afraid of him a little bit.
Fear is what keeps people from walking away.
**
Like never happened that afternoon, they lie under the same sheets, legs tangled and breathing heavily after what seemed like apology sex.
Seraphina doesn’t know if Coriolanus feels sorry for delivering a slap to her face, he didn’t mention the pain he caused her and acted like everything was fine for the rest of the day. Unbelievable.
The man who lies next to her isn’t her Coryo and she’s afraid that the Academy boy will never return to her.
She remembers the stories Coriolanus spread about his father. Coriolanus admired his father, Seraphina never admitted to him that she wished he would become nothing like him.
Crassus Snow wasn’t a loving person, he was cruel.
“You’re still mad.”
Coriolanus notices how her body tenses up when he moves closer, how she avoids his gaze when he tries to make eye contact and how every word that comes out of her mouth sounds calculated. Like she’s afraid to say the wrong thing.
Seraphina keeps quiet and Coriolanus sighs, why is she acting so difficult right now?
“Baby, talk to me.”
He tries, moving closer so he can take a look at her face, trying to get her to look at him. The skin on her cheek is still slightly red from the contact with his hand, but Coriolanus has seen enough bruises to know this will go away in a short time.
Seraphina closes her eyes when he gets too close. Not because she doesn’t want to look at him, but because she’s tired of talking to him. Tired of trying to make sense of the boy she loved and the man he’s become.
“You hit me.”
Seraphina shoots back.
Coriolanus exhales sharply through his nose, like she’s being unreasonable.
“You provoked me.”
He reasons, remembering how he saw red when she accused him of taking advantage of her. It didn’t go like that, she was the one to start unbuckling his belt and he won’t let her twist the story to make him look like a villain.
Besides, if she really felt that way, why did she let him fuck her again tonight?
“But you hit me, Coriolanus.”
Seraphina repeats, letting out a shaky laugh. For a fact, she didn’t provoke him, she told him right what she felt in her soul.
Coriolanus loves her, deep down she knows he does. But not in the way he used to.
Loving him meant sneaking out of her house to meet up with him in the park, sneaking food from her house to the Academy so they could eat together under the blossom trees, loving him made her feel complete.
But things happen and people change, that’s the way life goes. Coriolanus changed into this new person she doesn’t recognize. Wait, maybe she does recognize him?
Yes, Coriolanus Snow changed into the one person Seraphina wished was erased from his mind, Crassus Snow.
Her Coryo wouldn’t slap her across her face just because she said something that didn’t please him, even though it felt like the truth, but Crassus would.
Her Coryo wouldn’t make her feel bad for expressing her feelings and doubts and wouldn’t unclasp her bra to distract herself from her thoughts, but Crassus Snow would.
Seraphina sees it clearly now, Coriolanus turned into Crassus and there’s nothing she can do about it.
“You shouldn’t have accused me of that, not after everything I’ve been through. I will never let you see the districts because I don’t want you to see those horrors, baby. But things were bad there, the people were bad. But I fought to come back to you, to start a new life here with you.”
Coriolanus confesses, thinking about the time where he would think about her face and laugh when he needed to shoot somebody. It was his way of coping with the crimes he needed to commit.
“So I need you to stand beside me, not fight against me.”
She flinches when his hand finds her waist. He notices, but he doesn’t stop. Instead he pulls her body on top of his, enjoying the warmth from her skin and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.
“You’re mine, Seraphina. Don’t ever leave me.”
He whispers against her skin, smiling when he sees goosebumps appearing on her skin.
He often dreamed about nights like this, his girl wrapped in his arms after a passionate round of sex, whispering sweet nothing in her ear.
“I never left. You did.”
Seraphina swallows, her throat burning. His body fits against hers like a vice, one that used to make her feel safe. Now it feels like a cage.
He stills for a moment, and she wonders if she’s pushed him too far again, maybe he does still feel some pain.
But he quickly recovers.
“Not anymore.”
He tells her, pressing his lips against hers to seal the promise. Seraphina lets him, something it’s better to just let it happen instead of fighting it, she really does not want another hand down her face.
Coriolanus notices the way Seraphina doesn’t fight him, nor does she love it. He decides not to comment on it, as long as she lets him stay close and lets him be the man he wants to be for her, he won’t.
Because when a person changes, the people in his environment change as well.
But they will get out of this phase, together, he’s sure of it.
After a while, she will calm down and she will be able to see that Coriolanus Snow is now the man he needs to be for her and no longer the helpless Academy boy who she remembers and maybe even misses.
Nevertheless, he will wait for her. He will wait for her to see that he changed for the better, for them. He will sleep in her bed with her in his arms while he will dream about their future.
He will smile when she runs in his arms eventually, knowing he turned into a better man.
warnings: academy!snow. super toxic coryo, even more toxic reader, possessive, manipulative, jealousy, rough coryo, steamy make outs but nothing more, power driven. dark themes — you’ve been warned.
word count: 3k ishhhh
alternative more toxic ending can be found here lol
The bell of the Capitol Academy rang with a shrill finality, and the halls spilled over with polished shoes, pressed uniforms, and the haughty chatter of students who believed the world already belonged to them. Coriolanus Snow stood at the top of the marble staircase, arms folded behind his back, surveying the swarm below with the same clinical eye he’d turn on a chessboard. His pale hair gleamed beneath the morning light filtering through the high windows, his tie knotted so neatly it seemed carved in place.
Appearances, as always, were everything.
But his gaze wasn’t drawn to the masses. It was drawn to her.
Blythe Goldthorn ascended the staircase as though it parted for her, long golden brown hair shimmering like liquid light, eyes as dark as ink and twice as bottomless. The smile she wore was perfect—an artful curve of lips that suggested warmth, approachability, charm. Most of the academy adored her. Professors praised her sharp mind and good manners. Students envied her ease of grace.
But Coriolanus knew better. He knew the real Blythe—the one who coiled with ambition, who whispered venom beneath her polished exterior, who looked at the Capitol not as a home, but as a kingdom to be seized.
And that was why he loved her.
“Coryo.” Her voice cut through his thoughts like a knife through silk. She reached the landing and paused, tilting her head just enough to let the golden curtain of her hair catch the light. “You look like you’re about to give a speech from Olympus.”
He smirked faintly, though his hands tightened behind his back. “Better Olympus than the gutter. Someone has to embody the Capitol’s best, don’t you think?”
Her black eyes gleamed as though she caught the double edge to his words. “And who better than you?”
It was not flattery. It was a challenge.
They walked together down the corridor, arm brushing against arm. To onlookers, they looked flawless—two golden youths, the Academy’s finest. Inside, however, there was a different storm.
“Tell me,” Blythe said lightly, though her tone had the faint lilt of interrogation, “why did I hear that you and Clemensia Dovecoat had a little moment before class this morning?”
Coriolanus didn’t falter, though his jaw ticked. “She dropped her books, I was merely helping her.”
“And you felt compelled to play the gallant knight?” Her voice was sweet, but her eyes were sharp and cold and as black as obsidian.
“She tripped in the corridor.” He kept his tone even. “The poor girl looked ridiculous. I couldn’t let her make a fool of herself.”
Blythe stopped walking. Students had to swerve to avoid colliding with her, though none dared voice their irritation. She was staring at him now, that beautiful mask of hers cracking at the edges to reveal the steel beneath.
“You couldn’t let her make a fool of herself? So you made a fool of me.” she repeated softly.
Coriolanus tapped into every ounce of self-control he had, attempting to keep a civilized mask in front of his peers. “Made a fool of you how… please do enlighten me as to how you’ve drawn that conclusion.”
Blythe took a small step forward, their toes nearly touching. She was challenging him. Letting him know that he has done something to get under her skin. “I’m just trying to understand why you helping Clemensia off of the floor resulted in your hands all over her.”
Before he had the chance to respond, Blythe had dominated the conversation again, silencing him with a single look. “… why she was being held in your arms like some kind of victim.”
Coriolanus exhaled through his nose. He leaned down, close enough that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and murmured, “I was protecting my image, Blythe. Not hers. Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”
Her lips curved into a smile again, though her eyes never softened. “Of course,” she said. But he knew the matter was far from closed.
Later that afternoon, the two of them sat in an empty music room— the one place where whispers and laughter from the Academy halls couldn’t follow. Coriolanus perched on the piano bench, fingers gliding absently over ivory keys without pressing them down. Blythe stood near the window, arms folded, sunlight crowning her in gold.
“You humiliated me,” she said suddenly, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.
Coriolanus turned, incredulous. He had been waiting for her to mention this again. “We’re talking about Clemensia again? Don’t be absurd. No one in their right mind would think I’m interested in her.”
“That isn’t the point.” Blythe’s dark eyes burned. “You let yourself be seen with her. At your side. Helping her. Protecting her. Do you have any idea what that looks like?”
His lips curved, thin and humorless. “Like I was being decent. And since when has decency been a crime?”
“Since it made me look like a fool,” she bellowed. Her voice rang so fiercely through the room that Coriolanus almost expected the string instruments to echo her.
He rose from the bench, crossing the room in deliberate, measured steps. He towered over her, though she didn’t flinch. If anything, she seemed to grow taller, her chin tilting up in defiance.
“You,” he said softly, dangerously, “would never look like a fool. Not if you slit your own throat in the Capitol square.”
Her lips quirked into a poisonous smile. “Is that some declaration of admiration, Coryo? Or a threat?”
His hand shot out, gripping her jaw, forcing her to tilt her head back until he was looking up at him, her dark eyes meeting his pale blue ones. His thumb pressed against her cheekbone with just enough pressure to cause a sting; reminding her that he could hurt her if he chose.
“It’s possession,” he murmured. “It’s the truth. I won’t have you twist this into something it’s not. Anyone who looks at you- anyone who imagines they could have you- they’re fools. And I hope you understand that anyone who think they can take something from you… they’re even bigger fools.”
She didn’t fight him. Not exactly. But her hand slid up his chest, fingers curling around his tie and yanking him closer until their foreheads touched. “And you’re mine,” she whispered, voice low and venomous. “Don’t think for a second I wouldn’t burn this Academy to ash if you betrayed me.”
The air between them was electric, vibrating with the tension of two blades clashing. He tightened his grip on her jaw. She tugged harder on his tie.
“Say it,” she demanded.
His eyes narrowed. “Say what?”
“That you’d never look at another girl the way you look at me.”
“I don’t need to say it.”
“Yes, you do.”
A pause. His breath ghosted against her lips. Then, slowly, deliberately, he said, “There is no one else. There will never be anyone else. Not because I’m good, Blythe. But because you’d kill me if I tried.”
Her smile spread, wicked and triumphant. “Exactly.”
And then she kissed him. It wasn’t gentle. It was brutal, consuming, the kind of kiss that felt like drowning and being set aflame at once. His hand slid from her jaw to her throat, fingers curling against the delicate column there, not quite choking but reminding her of the power he held. She responded by biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
He groaned into her mouth, half in pain, half in desire.
When they finally broke apart, both were panting, foreheads pressed together, lips swollen and bloodstained.
“I do.” His thumb brushed her throat again, softer now. “God help me, I do. And I’ll never stop.” Her black eyes glittered with victory.
She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The truth was written in the blood at the corner of his mouth, in the bruises forming on her jaw, in the way they clung to each other like a secret neither could afford to lose.
Because love, for them, wasn’t flowers and soft words. It was power. It was control. It was obsession, toxic and absolute. And it was theirs alone.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Coriolanus adjusted the cuffs of his uniform for the third time as he sat at Blythe’s writing desk. The room was an elegant blend of old Capitol wealth and carefully cultivated charm—mahogany shelves stacked with leather-bound tomes, gilded lamps throwing warm pools of light across thick rugs, and a crystal vase of pale roses on the window ledge. The Goldthorn family estate was vast compared to the modest Snow apartment, and it carried the kind of easeful affluence his own family had once pretended to possess but no longer did.
Blythe lounged across from him, sprawled on a velvet chaise with her academy uniform skirt just brushing her knees, long golden-brown hair tumbling over her shoulder as she skimmed a textbook. She looked at ease here, utterly at home in the wealth that draped the walls, the polished silver frames, the heavy curtains.
“Your hand is shaking.” Her voice was mild, but her dark eyes flicked to the page in front of him with faint amusement.
Coriolanus stilled. “It’s not.”
“It is.” She smirked, closing her book with a soft thud. “I suppose you’re thinking about how you’ll impress my parents tonight.”
He lifted his chin. “I don’t need to impress them. I already belong here.”
Blythe laughed, soft and cutting at once. “You belong with me, Coryo. That’s not the same thing.”
His jaw tightened. She knew exactly where to press.
“You forget,” he murmured, leaning forward, “that appearances are everything. They’ll see a boy who’s elegant, articulate, with the right connections. That’s all they’ll care about.”
“And you think charm will hide hunger?” She tilted her head, studying him. “You want power so badly, it seeps out of you. My parents will smell it the moment you sit at their table.”
His lips curved in a thin smile. “Then we’ll all have that in common.”
For a moment, silence fell. Not uncomfortable, never uncomfortable, but sharp with the hum of mutual recognition. They were alike in that sense, that restless desire to bend the Capitol to their will.
Blythe rose, crossing the room with slow, deliberate steps. She trailed her fingers along the the top of his shoulders before leaning down, her lips brushing his ear. “You’re ambitious, Coryo. Ruthless. But don’t mistake your desperation for strength. I was born into this. It’s in my blood. You need me.”
He turned in his chair, seizing her wrist before she could pull away. His eyes, icy and unforgiving, locked onto hers. “And yet,” he said with a curled lip, “you chose me.”
Her lips twitched, betraying the faintest smile. “I did.”
Dinner with the Goldthorns was a study in masks. The long table gleamed with polished silverware and crystal goblets, the chandeliers burning low golden light across the lacquered wood. Blythe’s father spoke of legislation, her mother of appearances at the next Capitol gala. Coriolanus listened carefully, interjecting only when he knew his words would land. His charm was precise, practiced; a laugh in the right place, the grave nod at the mention of governance.
All the while, Blythe watched him, her dark eyes drinking in every calculated gesture. She knew the act as well as he did. She performed it herself daily. But watching him slip so easily into the rhythm of old wealth, despite his threadbare reality, ignited something sharp and admiring in her chest. By the time the meal ended, both had played their parts to perfection.
Once dinner had finished and Coriolanus and Blythe had retreated back up the stairs, back into her room, the mask cracked.
Blythe closed the door with a soft click, and before she could turn, Coriolanus had her back up against it, his mouth crashing onto hers in a kiss edged with hunger and triumph.
“You think I don’t belong here,” he muttered against her lips, “but I made them look at me like one of their own.”
Her nails raked down his back, sharp enough to sting even through his shirt. “You’re clever, Coryo. I’ll give you that. But cleverness won’t save you when the board is mine.”
He smirked, nipping at her lower lip. “Then I’ll make sure I’m standing at your side when you win.”
Her laughter was breathless as she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. “Standing beside me? No. You’d try to sit on the throne yourself.”
The conversation dissolved into a tangle of mouths and hands, ambition bleeding into desire, power twisting into passion. Blythe’s back was ripped from the wall as Coriolanus began to walk backwards, leading her with one hand tangled into her hair as the other began to work away at his belt. Once he loosened it, his hands found their home on her body, quickly getting to work to remove the barriers between their skin.
Blythe’s head tilted back, a soft moan escaping from her lips and Coriolanus’ teeth scraped down the front of her throat.
It should be known: Coriolanus didn’t just love Blythe. He viewed her as the final piece needed to complete his soul, as the only ounce of oxygen to fill his lungs, as the sun and moon and stars. He adored her. He adored her mind and her ambition.
But he thinks he loves her most like this; weak at his fingertips, begging him for more.
By the time they collapsed onto her bed, tangled in sheets and shadows, they were transcended into a world where only the other existed.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
The news broke at morning assembly about a week later: Blythe Goldthorn was named to deliver the address at the Capitol Youth Forum… a speech originally promised to Coriolanus Snow. For weeks he had been rehearsing every word, every calculated inflection, certain that this was his moment to step into the light. But now the headmaster’s voice rang through the marble hall, announcing her name instead of his.
Applause followed. Genuine, thunderous. Students turned to admire her, eyes shining with admiration. Blythe, ever perfect, inclined her head modestly, her hair catching light like a crown. But Coriolanus felt the ground tilt beneath him. His eyes met hers harshly, almost like a warning sign of what was to come.
Later, in the privacy of her room, he erupted. “You let them take it from me!” His voice cracked through the silence like a whip. He stood over her desk, fists planted on the polished wood, veins standing stark against his pale skin. His tie was loosened, hair dishevelled in a way that stripped him of his usual immaculate control.
Blythe remained seated on the chaise, legs crossed, watching him with infuriating calm. “I didn’t let them do anything.”
“Oh don’t give me that, Blythe. I saw your father leaving the deans office last week and now this. You need to fix this. They chose wrong and you know it.” He spun, pacing the length of the room like a caged animal. “This was mine, Blythe. My chance to stand in front of the Capitol, to show them what the Snow name still means. You knew that!”
Her lips curved upwards just slightly— subtle, sharp. If Coriolanus didn’t know her so well he would have missed it. “And yet, here we are. They picked me.”
Something inside him snapped. In two strides he was across the room, yanking her to her feet by her wrist. She gasped softly but didn’t resist, dark eyes gleaming as he roughly backed against the wall. “You think this is a game?” His voice was a low snarl, his breath hot against her cheek. “You think I’ll stand by while you take what’s mine?
Her free hand rose, fingers curling around his tie, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away. “What’s yours?” she whispered, taunting. “Coryo, nothing belongs to you. You’re clinging to scraps of a name that means less with every passing year. Without me, you’re no one.”
His grip on her wrist tightened until her knuckles whitened. “Say that again.” And so she did. Softly, deliberately. “Without me, you’re no one.”
For a heartbeat, his rage burned so bright it nearly blinded him. He wanted to shake her, to force her to swallow the words. Instead, he opted for something a little calmer. His free hand planted firmly of her neck, making it harder to breathe with each passing moment. “Watch what you say to me, Blythe. You may be a Goldthorn but you’re really not all that.”
Her spare hand shot up to wrap around this wrist responsible for cutting off her oxygen supply. She dug hair nails in, watching the quiet flicker of pain in his eyes as she drew blood. He released her neck.
They stood there for a second, eyes locked. Unmoving. Assessing the damage done.
“I didn’t —” Coriolanus inhaled deeply, his hand running through his hair to disrupt what was once perfect waves of beautiful blonde. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She took a small step forward towards him, lifting his chin with her blood stained fingers, making him meet her gaze.
He was shocked to see her eyes were soft, for once. But he remained quiet and still, allowing her to take control.
Holding eye contact, she placed a soft a delicate kiss on his lips. A mere peck, before pulling back to look at his face again. And without warning, Coriolanus captured her mouth against his in a kiss that was almost featherlight. She softly closed her eyes, a low hum emitting from her throat as he began to ramp up the intensity.
When he tore his mouth from hers, he was shaking, chest heaving. “You know that I love,” he didn’t ask but declared.
She didn’t answer, but just stared into his stormy eyes. Again, she reached out to touch his face. His hand slid from her waist to her as, his fingers squeezing. But still it did not feel like he could get enough. She rested her head into the nook of his neck, “You’ll ruin me,” she hissed.
Her smile was all teeth. “And you’ll let me.”
His head dropped to her shoulder, jaw clenched, every muscle taut with fury and want. She ran her fingers through his hair, soothing and possessive all at once, like taming a wild thing that still might bite. “You’re furious because you see yourself in me,” she whispered against his ear. “The hunger. The ambition. But where you claw, Coryo, I glide. Where you beg, I take. And they’ll always give me what you want, because I was born with the power you crave.”
He jerked back, eyes blazing, hands gripping her arms so tightly she’d have bruises by morning. “Don’t you dare patronize me.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
The challenge lingered in the air, hot and intoxicating. His fury twisted into something darker… rougher. For them, love wasn’t gentle. It was war. And neither of them had any intention of surrendering.
No love, purely political. He needed something, someone, who he knew he would never fall for. To him you’re just pawn, a lovely pawn who can never manipulate him and who always knows your place below him. He knows that you love him, he uses to his advantage because he knows you crave for him to love you back.
