#soft!coriolanus snow

[evelynraine]

Fallen Roses - part nineteen

All | Masterlist

part eighteen | part nineteen | part twenty

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Capitol fem!Reader

warnings: none

Aurora had started eating more again, a quiet rebellion against her mother’s suffocating control. Coriolanus’ quiet encouragement played a pivotal role, whether through the extra food he slipped her from his tray at lunch or the unspoken understanding in his gaze. Her appetite wasn’t fully back to normal—at home, she still had to pretend she wasn’t eating—but at school, she allowed herself to indulge in stolen bites of freedom. The change was subtle but undeniable. Her spark was returning.

Aurora’s newfound energy was evident in everything she did. She completed her assignments with genuine enthusiasm, laughed more freely, and even participated in class discussions. Life outside her home felt liberating, and she finally started to enjoy the present moment. Her friends noticed the shift, sharing smiles of relief during their group hangouts. But no one admired it more than Coriolanus.

Seeing Aurora’s joy sparked something unfamiliar in him—a lightness he hadn’t felt in years. Her happiness was contagious, and he found himself yearning to preserve it. Yet, the very feelings that made him cherish her began to unravel his carefully constructed composure.

/

At school, Coriolanus grew increasingly distracted. His thoughts drifted to Aurora during lectures, his usually meticulous notes left unfinished. His friends—particularly Festus and Clemensia—started to tease him about his inattentiveness, though they didn’t suspect the cause. Only Sejanus watched him more closely, his knowing gaze often lingering a beat too long.

Coriolanus’ grades began to slip—not drastically, but enough to catch the attention of Dean Highbottom. The dean, ever perceptive, seized the opportunity to needle him further. During class, he made pointed remarks about “youthful distractions” and “foolish indulgences.” Though Highbottom didn’t name Aurora, his sharp tone whenever Coriolanus glanced her way was enough to fuel the tension.

Aurora noticed the strain in Coriolanus before anyone else did. His silences grew longer, and his usual quick wit felt slightly dulled. During their private conversations, she caught fleeting moments where he seemed distant, almost troubled.

“Are you okay?” she asked one afternoon after class, her voice soft but steady.

Coriolanus hesitated, his gaze shifting to her with an almost imperceptible flicker of vulnerability. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve just seemed… off lately,” Aurora pressed gently. “You know you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

For a moment, he considered telling her the truth—that his feelings for her were beginning to overwhelm him, that he was terrified of what they meant. But he swallowed the words, offering a carefully constructed smile instead.

“Just school stress,” he said lightly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Aurora nodded, though a flicker of doubt lingered in her eyes. She didn’t push further, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Coriolanus was hiding something.

The days stretched on, and the tension within Coriolanus only grew. He tried to focus on his responsibilities—his studies, his family’s precarious financial situation, his image—but Aurora’s presence was a constant distraction. She was the one bright spot in his life, the one person who made him feel truly seen. And yet, the closer he felt to her, the more he feared losing control.

Aurora, unaware of the turmoil she caused, continued to thrive in her small victories. But beneath her growing confidence was a curiosity she couldn’t ignore. Coriolanus, her closest friend, was pulling away in ways she didn’t understand.

For now, neither dared to confront the feelings simmering beneath the surface. But the cracks were beginning to show, and both knew it was only a matter of time before something gave.

/

Aurora first noticed the drop in Coriolanus’ grades when she glanced at his notebook during a study session. His usually flawless notes were messy, with sentences half-finished and diagrams sketched without labels. His grades had never been anything less than exceptional—something he prided himself on—so seeing the small red marks on his returned assignments struck her as unusual.

“Since when do you get anything less than top marks?” she teased lightly, pointing to a circled 86% at the top of his last essay.

Coriolanus tensed, his jaw tightening for a moment before he forced a casual laugh. “Guess even I’m not perfect,” he quipped. But Aurora didn’t buy it.

“Is this why you’ve been so stressed lately?” she asked softly, her eyes searching his.

He shrugged, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing. Just a couple of slips. I’ll make up for it.”

Aurora tilted her head, unconvinced. She leaned forward, her voice firm but kind. “Coriolanus, I know that 86 is killing you. You help me all the time—whether it’s sneaking me extra food or sitting with me until I finish my assignments. Let me return the favor.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

/

The next day, Aurora showed up at the library with a carefully outlined plan. She had researched which professors offered extra credit assignments and flagged topics Coriolanus could build on for future essays.

“We’ll focus on the ones with the biggest impact first,” she explained, sliding her notes toward him. “If we start now, you can bring your grades back up before midterms.”

Coriolanus stared at the neatly written lists, overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

She shrugged, smiling. “I know. But I wanted to.”

They spent hours poring over his assignments, brainstorming ideas for essays and reviewing lecture notes. Aurora’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Coriolanus found himself feeling less burdened as the work progressed.

At one point, Aurora leaned over his notebook to point out a section that needed revising. Her shoulder brushed against his, and though the contact was fleeting, Coriolanus froze. The scent of her perfume—soft and floral—lingered in the air, and he struggled to focus on her words.

“Are you even listening?” she asked, raising an eyebrow when he didn’t respond.

“Of course,” he lied, clearing his throat. “You were saying…?”

Aurora narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t press further. Instead, she handed him her pen. “Here. Rewrite this section. I’ll make sure it actually makes sense this time.”

He chuckled, grateful for her teasing. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

“Only when you need it,” she shot back, her grin softening the words.

By the end of the week, Coriolanus had submitted two extra credit assignments and completed drafts of several pending essays. His grades began to stabilize, but what mattered more to him was how much lighter he felt with Aurora by his side.

One evening, as they packed up their books, Coriolanus hesitated before speaking. “Aurora,” he said, his tone unusually serious.

She looked up, surprised. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” he said simply. “For this. You know you could’ve let me fail and be top of the class.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she brushed it off with a wave of her hand. “Well then it wouldn’t be a fair race, would it? Besides, it’s what friends are for,” she said lightly, though her heart fluttered at his sincerity.

Friends. The word lingered between them, unspoken questions hanging in the air. Neither dared to voice them, but both felt the tension simmering just beneath the surface. For now, they would leave it there, caught in the delicate balance of something that felt too big to name.

[evelynraine]

Fallen Roses - part seventeen

All | Masterlist

part sixteen | part seventeen | part eighteen

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Capitol fem!reader

warnings:toxic family, abuse, wrong disorder mentions

< flashback chapter >

Aurora sat quietly in the corner of her room, her eyes staring at the floor, though her mind was far away. The coldness of the walls seemed to close in around her as she replayed the horrors of her childhood. The moments that still haunted her, like an endless loop of trauma, returned now with painful clarity.

She was only seventeen, yet the scars of her past, shaped by the sharp words and controlling hands of her mother, seemed much older. Her heart ached with the memory of what her mother had put her through. If anything, the events of the past week only served to drag her back to those painful times, making her feel as though she was still that helpless little girl again.

//

Aurora was six when her mother first decided she needed to look like the perfect version of herself. The idea of Aurora being “ugly” had grown too much for Mariah to bear. The fact that her daughter’s natural beauty didn’t fit the mold of the perfect, ethereal image Mariah had created for herself and her daughters was something Mariah couldn’t stand.

“You need to be more like us, Aurora,” her mother had said firmly, examining her in front of the mirror. “Your sisters are flawless. You need to be flawless too. This surgery will fix everything.”

The surgery was meant to enhance Aurora’s features, especially her left eye, which had always been slightly off-center, making her feel like something was missing. Mariah was obsessed with perfection. The surgery was supposed to make her look more like her siblings—blonde, green-eyed, tan-skinned—and as much as Aurora feared it, she went along with it, knowing there would be no choice.

But the surgery went wrong.

Instead of enhancing her beauty and her eyes, it resulted in partial blindness in her left eye. The doctors were firm in their warning: there was no way to proceed. It would be too dangerous, they said. If they continued, it could result in permanent damage. Aurora’s worst fears had been realized, and now she would be left with a permanent reminder of her imperfection, one her mother would never let her forget.

When Mariah heard the news, her reaction was less of concern for her daughter and more for how it would affect her image.

“You ruined everything,” Mariah had hissed, eyes narrowing in rage. “You’re still ugly. This was your last chance, and you’ve thrown it away.”

Aurora tried to explain, to ask if there was another way, but it didn’t matter. Her mother’s disgust was all-consuming.

“You should’ve been more careful,” Mariah spat, pacing the room. “Now you’ll never look like the rest of us. You’ll always be an embarrassment.”

Her mother’s cruel words had stuck with her, burrowing deep inside her, as she realized that no matter how hard she tried, she could never be perfect in her mother’s eyes.

//

By the time Aurora reached her teenage years, she was constantly battling with her mother’s diet plans. Mariah had put her on an endless cycle of dietary restrictions to try and change her body. Every few weeks, there was a new regimen—low carbs, no sugar, no fats. The rules were rigid, designed to mold her into the ideal figure, but no matter what she did, she never seemed to measure up.

“You need to lose that stomach,” Mariah would say, glaring at Aurora’s body. “Your sisters are thin. You need to be thin too. No one will ever look at you if you keep eating like a pig.”

Aurora’s stomach growled with hunger as she picked at her meals, trying to follow the impossible standards her mother set for her. She wasn’t allowed to enjoy food. Every bite was scrutinized, every meal an opportunity for her mother to find fault. There were days she would go without eating, just to avoid her mother’s judgment.

It never seemed to be enough. No matter how much weight she lost, her mother would always find something wrong with her. Her face was too round, her legs too thick, her chest too flat. Nothing was ever right.

//

There were days when Aurora would sit quietly in the living room, watching her mother interact with her siblings. Her mother would constantly fawn over them, telling them how beautiful they were. She’d shower them with praise, with compliments that never seemed to come her way.

But when her eyes turned to Aurora, there was nothing but disdain.

“You’re the ugly one, aren’t you?” Mariah would say coldly. “Look at your sisters. Why can’t you be more like them? If you were prettier, maybe someone would want you.”

Aurora didn’t know what to say anymore. She had learned long ago that her mother would never love her, would never accept her. It wasn’t about who she was or what she could do—it was about how she looked. And she would never measure up to her mother’s impossible standards.

//

Perhaps the worst part of all of this was the way her mother constantly prepared her for a life of subjugation. Her mother had always insisted on the proper way for a young girl to behave—for her husband, specifically.

“You must always behave for your husband, Aurora,” Mariah would say, her tone sharp, as if it were the most important rule in the world. “You must learn how to please him. You must be quiet, obedient, and docile.”

Her mother would insist on the “rules” of being a woman: She was not allowed to speak to boys unless they were her brothers or father. No socializing with anyone outside of the family unless they had been approved by her father. Her body was not her own—it was to be controlled, manipulated, and used by her future husband.

“You must keep yourself pure for your husband,” her mother had instructed, her face cold and stern. “On the night of your wedding, he will take you. You’ll be his property. You must do whatever he wants. He can have you whenever he pleases. Do you understand?”

Aurora had been so young when her mother first began teaching her these lessons. She had felt a mixture of shame, confusion, and fear. She had never felt so lost, so alienated from her own body.

But her mother’s words were constant—her body was for someone else, to be used, to be controlled. She was never allowed to choose for herself.

“You’ll have children for him. As many as he wants. He’s the one who makes the decisions,” her mother would say, dismissing her own daughter’s wishes, hopes, and desires.

//

One afternoon, Aurora returned home from her first trip out with friends in months, feeling light and somewhat happy despite everything. She had spent time with Arachne, Clemensia, Coriolanus, Festus, Felix and Sejanus, laughing and just being herself for once.

Her mother, of course, was waiting for her in the sitting room.

“You’ve been gone a long time,” Mariah said sharply, not looking up from the book she was pretending to read. “Where were you?”

Aurora froze in the doorway, anxiety creeping in as she realized her mother’s tone. She took a deep breath. “I was just out with some friends,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“You’re not allowed to have friends,” Mariah snapped, looking up now, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not allowed to talk to boys unless they’re your brothers or your father.”

Aurora felt her anger rise again, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. “I’m not a child, mother. I’m not your property. I have a right to my own life.”

Mariah’s face contorted with rage. “You think you have rights? You’re a girl, and girls don’t get rights. Girls like you get husbands, and they obey. You’re supposed to be pure. Do you think your little boyfriend will still want you if you act like this?” She spat the word like it was venom.

Aurora felt a pang in her chest, a mixture of sadness and frustration. “Coriolanus isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my friend.”

Mariah’s lips curled into a sneer. “Oh, I’m sure that’s all he is. Just a friend,” she said sarcastically. “But it’s always the friends that ruin you. They make you think you’re special, make you think you have a choice, but they don’t care about you. They don’t care about your purity. And neither do you.”

Aurora’s eyes welled with tears. “Why do you always do this? Why can’t you let me live my life? I’m not you. I’m not going to be like you!”

Her mother’s glare turned colder, her voice icy. “You will never be like me, Aurora. You’re not good enough. And that’s something you need to accept, because no one will ever accept you the way you are.”

[evelynraine]

Fallen Roses - part sixteen

All | Masterlist

part fifteen | part sixteen | part seventeen

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Capitol fem!reader

warnings: crude language, weight, eating disorder mentions

Aurora stepped inside the house, her hands trembling as she pushed the door shut behind her. The quiet hum of the house greeted her, but it felt suffocating. Every room was too big, every corner too empty. She hadn't even made it past the threshold when she heard her mother's sharp voice calling from the sitting room.

"Aurora."

The chill in her mother's tone made her stomach drop. Aurora had barely set foot in the house before she knew exactly what was coming. She didn't need to see her mother's face to know it would be twisted with anger.

She walked to the sitting room, hesitating at the door, not quite wanting to step in.

But her mother's voice was a demand, not a question.

"Aurora, now."

Her mother stood in front of the mirror, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her daughter, appraising her like she was an object to be scrutinized. The scale was there, just beside the mirror, the cruel reminder of everything that had always been wrong with Aurora in her mother's eyes.

"Step on the scale," Mariah said, her voice colder than ice.

Aurora froze. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, suffocating. Aurora hesitated, but only for a moment. She had learned long ago that to defy her mother was to invite punishment, and it was always worse when she fought back.

So, she stepped on the scale, the numbers flashing up in front of her.

One hundred and seven pounds.

It wasn't much, but it was too much. Too heavy. Eight pounds over what her mother had deemed acceptable.

She could feel her mother's eyes on her like daggers. It wasn't just the number on the scale that made her stomach twist; it was the judgment that came with it. The weight of her mother's gaze was unbearable.

Mariah's lips curled into a sneer as she stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. "So," she said, her voice laced with venom, "you think this is acceptable?" She gestured to Aurora's body with a sweeping motion, as if she were disgusted by what she saw.

"Do you think this is beautiful?"

Aurora stood frozen, trying to keep her breath steady, to keep the tears from spilling.

She couldn't let her mother see that she was breaking, not now. Not when she was so close to doing something for herself for once.

But her mother wasn't done.

"You've let yourself go” she spat.

"Sloppy. Disgusting. You think any man will look at you now? Do you think you're even worth looking at? Do you think Coriolanus Snow looks at you and sees someone he could touch, someone he could want?"

Aurora's heart skipped a beat.

The mention of Coriolanus felt like a punch to the gut, a raw, unexpected sting. Her mother's words cut deeper than she could have imagined.

"You think he's interested in you?" Mariah's laugh was a sharp, mocking sound. "You're so deluded. Coriolanus Snow doesn't want a girl like you. He'll never touch you. He's too good for you."

Aurora's hands balled into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms. She wasn't sure why it hurt so much to hear her mother speak of Coriolanus this way - maybe because deep down, she knew her mother was right in some twisted way. Aurora had felt the shift in her heart when she'd been around him. But she wasn't going to admit that. Not to her. Not to anyone.

Her mother took her silence as a chance to accuse her of absurd things - “You’ve probably slept with him, haven’t you?" Mariah's voice dripped with disdain, as if the mere thought of her daughter being intimate with anyone was a sin. "You’ve probably already spread your legs for him and ruined yourself, you slut."

Aurora's chest tightened, her breath shallow. It was all too much. Her mother's words were like daggers, slicing through the fragile layers of self-worth she had carefully built over the past few months. Her mother was tearing her apart, piece by piece, and it felt like she had no power to stop it. "You're nothing but a slut, just like all the other girls at the Academy," Mariah continued, her voice rising with fury.

"You'll do anything to get attention. But you're not getting any from anyone worth anything. You're not beautiful anymore. You're just a joke."

Aurora's eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to cry. She refused to give her mother the satisfaction of seeing her break.

But her mother wasn't done. The words kept coming, and they were more brutal with each one.

"I hope that Snow gets you pregnant. I hope you get knocked up so l can get rid of you. I'll send you away. Far away. You'll never disgrace this family again. You'll never disgrace me again." Her mother's voice became cold, final, as though she had already made the decision. "I regret the day I gave birth to you. You're a disgrace. A failure."The words hit like a slap. They were the final blow. The weight of them crushed her.

How could she ever come back from this?

She had known that her mother hated her. She had known that she wasn't the daughter her mother had wanted, that she had never lived up to the impossible standards placed on her. But to hear it all laid bare, to hear the one person who should have loved her more than anyone else say that she regretted her existence-it felt like the earth had cracked open beneath her.

Aurora opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

The words were stuck, lodged in her throat, too tangled up in the weight of everything she had just heard.

Instead, she turned and fled.

She didn't know where she was going, only that she had to get away. She ran through the house, past the rooms that felt too cold and too empty, past the walls that seemed to echo her mother's words. She reached her room and slammed the door behind her, sinking onto the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees.

She didn't cry. Not yet.

But the tears were coming, and she couldn't stop them.

The anger, the frustration, the ache inside her—it was all too much. Her mother had broken her down, shattered the small amount of confidence she had built up in herself.

She wasn't good enough. She wasn't ever going to be good enough.

And as the tears finally spilled over, she realized something - maybe she never would be.

[evelynraine]

Fallen Roses - part fourteen

All | Masterlist

part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Capitol fem!reader

warnings: none

The past week and a half had been an experiment of sorts, one orchestrated by Aurora’s friends and Coriolanus’s inner circle. At first, it was subtle—a few invitations to combined study sessions, casual lunches where both groups “just happened” to overlap. But it wasn’t long before it became clear to anyone paying attention that the arrangement wasn’t coincidental.

Clemensia and Arachne had been the instigators, their curiosity about Aurora and Coriolanus spilling over into whispers and sideways glances. Sejanus, Festus, and Felix were quick to join in, forming what could only be described as a makeshift alliance to uncover what, if anything, was going on between the two.

And so, the group observed. They watched how Coriolanus and Aurora sat side by side during study sessions, heads bent over their notes but never too close. They noted how Aurora occasionally smiled at something Coriolanus said, and how he would respond with little more than a curt nod or a quiet comment. It was infuriatingly platonic.

“They’re just friends,” Arachne announced one afternoon, snapping her notebook shut as they lingered in the library.

“If that,” Festus agreed. “He barely even looks at her.”

Felix leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Told you. Coriolanus Snow doesn’t like anyone.”

Sejanus wasn’t so sure. He’d noticed things the others hadn’t—the way Coriolanus would subtly shift the workload so Aurora didn’t have to stay late, or how he occasionally lingered at her side longer than necessary. But without proof, he kept his observations to himself.

By the end of the second week, the group’s suspicions had all but faded. Coriolanus and Aurora were as platonic as could be, and if there was anything deeper between them, they were masters at hiding it.

“He’s still the same old Snow,” Clemensia said with a shrug as they walked to class one day. “Emotionless, detached, completely incapable of caring about anyone.”

Arachne nodded. “Honestly, I feel bad for her. She’s probably stuck working with him because of that stupid project. Can you imagine how boring he must be to talk to?”

The others laughed, but Sejanus stayed quiet, his eyes flickering toward Coriolanus as he walked ahead with Aurora. He wasn’t so sure their assessment was entirely accurate.

But for now, he kept those thoughts to himself. As far as the group was concerned, nothing was happening. Coriolanus Snow was still the same emotionless enigma they’d always known him to be, and Aurora Laurent was just another girl unlucky enough to cross his path.

authors note

idk if this counts as a part cuz it’s so short, its kinda just a fill in to add some depth.. LOL anyway

[evelynraine]

Fallen Roses - part thirteen

All | Masterlist

part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Capitol fem!reader

warnings: abuse mentions, eating disorder mentions, toxic family

The monthly family call was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a chance for everyone to reconnect despite the distance that now separated them. But for Aurora, it was a reminder of her place in the Laurent family hierarchy—last, least, and forever under scrutiny. She sat at the kitchen table, nibbling on a dry biscuit, listening to the muffled laughter and chatter coming from the study where her parents and younger siblings were speaking to Zion, Celeste, and Archer.

Aurora wasn’t allowed in the first hour of calls. Those were for the important ones—her parents, her “successful” older siblings, and her younger brothers and sisters, who were still being groomed into what her mother called “proper Laurent children.” Aurora, as her mother often said, had no business inserting herself into those conversations. She was “unworthy” of being considered a proper Laurent.

But at least she was granted the final 10 minutes, something she clung to like a lifeline.

When her mother finally called her name, it wasn’t out of kindness. It was more of a command, sharp and impatient. Aurora rose from the kitchen chair, her stomach churning as she made her way to the call log room. She felt her mother’s eyes boring into her as she passed, judgment dripping from every glance. Her mother didn’t need to say it out loud—Aurora already knew what she was thinking: Don’t embarrass us.

She stepped into the room, closed the door behind her, and picked up the family telephone, forcing herself to plaster on a smile that no one could see.

“Hi, everyone,” she said, her voice lighter than she felt.

Zion was the first to speak. “Aurora! Finally, there you are,” he said warmly, though she could hear the sound of children squabbling in the background. “I’m sorry, but I only have a minute. Ezabeth needs help with the twins. They’re—oh, for the love of Panem, stop pulling her hair, Ziggy!”

Aurora managed a small laugh. “It’s okay, Zion. Tell them I said hi.”

“I will, and hey, don’t let Mother get to you, alright?” Zion said, his tone softening. “You’re stronger than she thinks.”

Before Aurora could respond, he was gone, leaving her alone with Celeste and Archer.

“Zion’s too soft on you,” Celeste said immediately, her voice carrying the same icy edge their mother’s did. “No wonder you’ve turned out the way you have.”

Aurora bit her tongue, refusing to take the bait. “Hi, Celeste. Hi, Archer.”

Archer’s voice was warm, a stark contrast to Celeste’s. “Hey, Aurora. How’s it going? And don’t give me some fake answer—tell me the truth.”

Aurora hesitated, glancing at the closed door behind her. Should she say it? Could she? Finally, she decided it didn’t matter anymore. “Mother’s started starving me again.”

There was a brief silence, broken only by the sound of Celeste scoffing. “Well, maybe she has a point,” Celeste said coldly. “You’ve been behaving disgracefully, Aurora. Mother has every right to correct you. You’re lucky she still bothers to try.”

“Disgracefully?” Archer’s voice was sharp now, filled with disbelief. “Celeste, she’s starving her! That’s not correction; that’s abuse!”

“Oh, please,” Celeste snapped. “Mother knows what she’s doing. Aurora just doesn’t understand discipline. She never has.”

“Celeste, we are here to catch up with our family. You’re wasting the little time we have with her” Archer says into the telephone, “Aurora how’s school going? Do you love it?”

“Of course I do!” she smiled. “I’ve got 3 best friends: Clemensia, Arachne, and Coriolanus. Not much, but that’s all I need.”

Celeste’s laugh was sharp and mocking. “Coriolanus? That’s a boy’s name, isn’t it? You’re talking to a boy? You’re unmarried, you whore!”

Archer interjected, his voice filled with frustration. “She’s allowed to have friends, Celeste. Not everyone has to live by Mother’s ridiculous rules.”

“No, but if she wants to avoid ruining the family’s reputation any more than she already has, she should start,” Celeste snapped back.

Aurora could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “You don’t know anything about my life,” she said quietly.

“I know enough,” Celeste replied, her tone dripping with disdain. “You’re a disgrace, Aurora. And if you keep this up, you’ll deserve everything Mother does to you.”

“That’s enough!” Archer’s voice was firm, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Aurora, you don’t have to listen to this. Celeste, if you can’t be supportive, maybe you shouldn’t be on this call at all.”

Aurora blinked back her tears, grateful for Archer’s defense. But Celeste wasn’t done.

“Fine,” she said, her tone icy. “But don’t come crying to me when she ends up a failure, just like Mother said she would.”

The line went dead a moment later, leaving Aurora alone with Archer.

“I’m sorry,” Archer said softly. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

Aurora shook her head, though he couldn’t see her. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “It’s just… my life.”

“It matters,” Archer insisted. “And I’m here for you. Always.”

Aurora nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

When the call ended, Aurora sat in the silent room for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hand. She’d known this was coming, but it still hurt. It always did. But as she stood and walked back into the house, her mother’s voice echoing from the next room, she knew one thing for sure: she had to find a way out of this. Before it consumed her entirely.

[evelynraine]

Fallen Roses - part twelve

All | Masterlist

part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Capitol fem!Reader

warnings: none

The last bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and Coriolanus was already heading out the door, moving through the bustling hallways, trying to act like everything was normal. Like he hadn’t just spent an afternoon alone with Aurora Laurent, trying to figure out what the hell was going on in her head.

Behind him, Sejanus, Festus, and Felix fell into step, their footsteps quickening to match his pace. The group was unusually quiet—too quiet. Coriolanus knew they were about to ask him something, and they weren’t going to let it go until they got what they wanted.

“You and Aurora, huh?” Felix started, voice low, but his eyes sharp as a hawk. “What’s going on there?”

Coriolanus didn’t break his stride, but he could feel his jaw clench. “What do you mean?”

Felix smirked, an eyebrow raising in that way that made everything feel like a challenge. “I mean, you’re not usually that interested in class projects. So what gives?”

Coriolanus shrugged, trying to act casual, even though he felt the nerves gnawing at him. “She’s been going through some stuff. She’s not exactly in a great place right now, so I’m helping her out. That’s it. It’s not a big deal.”

Sejanus leaned in, not buying it for a second. “Right, just helping her out. You’ve been hanging around with her a lot lately, though. Seems like more than just helping, man.”

Coriolanus gave him a side-eye, rolling his eyes. “Are you seriously trying to make this weird? She’s a friend, okay? It’s not a thing. I’m just… trying to do the decent thing. She’s going through it right now. You guys see how she’s been.”

Festus crossed his arms, giving him a look. “Yeah, we know. She looks like she’s been hit by a truck. And she’s barely speaking. But you’re helping her? You sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Coriolanus said with a snap, trying to sound more confident than he felt. The last thing he needed was for them to start digging too deep. “I’m not trying to make some big deal out of it. I’m just being a friend.”

Felix gave a short laugh. “A friend, huh? That’s all?” He cocked his head, eyeing Coriolanus in that annoying way he did when he thought he was on to something. “I don’t know, man. You look real concerned for just a friend. You wouldn’t act like that for me.”

“I’m not concerned,” Coriolanus spat, feeling his skin heat up. “I just don’t want her falling apart. It’ll affect our grades. Simple as that.”

There was a pause, and the three of them exchanged looks, clearly still processing it. They weren’t stupid. They had all seen Aurora’s slow decline—how tired she always looked, how little she talked, how she barely ate. They all knew something wasn’t right.

But they also knew Coriolanus didn’t care about anyone like this. Ever.

“You sure that’s all?” Sejanus asked, softer this time, like he was trying to read between the lines.

Coriolanus looked at him, annoyed. “Yes, I’m sure. What is this? Some sort of interrogation?”

“No, man. We’re just looking out for you,” Festus chimed in. “But honestly, we’ve never seen you like this before. I mean, you don’t really like anyone. Like, ever.”

“Yeah, and the idea of liking someone is disgusting, right?” Felix grinned, nudging him with his elbow, clearly trying to make light of it. But Coriolanus could feel the heat of their stares.

He gave a short, derisive laugh. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said, tone sharp. “I don’t like her. I’m helping her out. She’s got her whole mess to deal with, and I’m just, I don’t know, I’m just trying to make sure she has something positive.”

They all paused, sizing him up. There was an awkward silence as they processed his words, the usual banter gone for the moment.

“Alright, alright,” Sejanus said after a beat, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “We believe you. You’re just helping out a friend. We get it.”

But Coriolanus could tell from the look on Sejanus’s face that they didn’t completely buy it. Not that it mattered. They weren’t going to push him. They never did.

“Good,” Coriolanus muttered, feeling the uncomfortable weight of their questioning settle over him. “Can we drop it now?”

The group didn’t respond at first, but Felix couldn’t help himself. “Whatever, man. Just don’t get all weird on us. If you do end up liking her… I mean, we just want you to be honest about it.”

“Stop talking,” Coriolanus snapped, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest at the thought. He didn’t like Aurora. He wasn’t even sure if he liked anyone. What he was doing for her—hell, the way he was feeling—was just temporary. It was the right thing to do, that was all. He wasn’t about to let himself feel anything else.

But it didn’t stop his mind from wandering back to her—the way she looked so fragile, so small lately, and how every time she looked at him, something inside him twisted. But he couldn’t deal with that now.

“I don’t like her,” he muttered to himself as they parted ways, but even as the words left his mouth, he wasn’t entirely sure he believed them anymore.

[evelynraine]

Fallen Roses - part eleven

All | Masterlist

part ten | part eleven | part twelve

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Capitol fem!reader

warnings: none

Coriolanus led Aurora away from the group without a word, his hand gently guiding her through the crowd as he pulled her toward a quieter, more secluded corner of the academy. The others watched, confusion spreading through their ranks. Sejanus, Festus, and Felix exchanged uneasy glances, none of them understanding the sudden shift in Coriolanus’s behavior.

“That was strange, right, even for Coriolanus?” Felix muttered

Sejanus frowned, brows knitting together in concern. “Yeah, it was. He doesn’t just take people away from the group like that. Not without a reason.”

Festus shook his head. “They’re just class partners, aren’t they? I don’t get it.”

“Maybe they’re just talking about the project?” Sejanus suggested, though even he didn’t believe it. Something felt off.

But the more they thought about it, the more questions surfaced. Why had Coriolanus pulled Aurora away? What was happening between them? Was there something they didn’t know?

“We need to find out what’s going on,” Festus decided, his voice low but resolute. “There’s something more here. They’re not just classmates. And those two”—he motioned toward Clemensia and Arachne, who were standing nearby—“might know more than us.”

The three of them moved toward the girls, the sense of urgency mounting. Clemensia and Arachne hadn’t seen the change in Coriolanus and Aurora’s behavior, but they were certainly aware of the tension building between them. When Sejanus, Felix, and Festus arrived, Clemensia’s casual smile quickly faltered, and Arachne’s calculating gaze sharpened.

“What’s going on with Coriolanus and Aurora?” Sejanus asked, getting straight to the point. “We need to know what’s really happening. Are they—are they a thing? Is something going on that we don’t know about?”

Arachne looked at him with mild amusement, but it was Clemensia who responded first, her voice guarded. “What do you mean? They’re working together. It’s just for a project.”

Felix crossed his arms, a skeptical look on his face. “Just a project? He’s not pulling people away from the group for a simple assignment. You two have been around them more than anyone—what’s really going on?”

Clemensia glanced briefly at Arachne before responding, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of something more. “You’re reading too much into it,” she said smoothly. “Coriolanus and Aurora have been working closely on their assignments, sure. But that’s all it is. There’s nothing more.”

Festus narrowed his eyes. “Really? Because that didn’t look like just a ‘project’ when he walked off with her. It seemed a lot more… personal.”

Arachne tilted her head slightly, her gaze flickering with something that was almost a challenge. “Maybe it’s personal to them,” she said softly, almost as if daring them to push further. “But how would we know?”

Sejanus took a step forward, sensing that Clemensia and Arachne weren’t telling the full story. “We’re not stupid. You both know something’s up. Are they dating, or is there something else going on between them?”

The girls exchanged a long look, one that lasted just a bit too long, and then Arachne spoke up again. “Look, if there is something more, we don’t know anything. Maybe you should ask them directly.”

Felix scoffed. “Right, because that’s going to work. We’re just supposed to go up to them and ask what’s going on? You’re not giving us anything.”

Clemensia’s voice was quieter now, almost too careful. “All I can say is, Coriolanus isn’t one to get attached. If he’s acting differently around Aurora, then something’s definitely happening. But whether it’s more than a project—who knows?”

Festus scratched the back of his neck, clearly frustrated. “Why won’t anyone just be honest with us?”

Arachne shrugged, “We are being honest. We don’t know anything. Aurora doesn’t share anything about her personal life with us, I don’t know anything about her.”

“They’re hiding something,” Sejanus said softly as they made their way back to the main courtyard.

Felix was quiet for a moment, then spoke up. “You think… he actually likes her?”

They didn’t answer immediately. The thought hadn’t crossed their minds. Coriolanus wasn’t the type to get emotionally involved. Or at least, that’s what they’d always believed.

“I don’t know,” Clemensia admitted. “He’s usually so cold and careless, but something’s changed. I can feel it.”

“We’ve gotta try and get him to tell us something.”

[evelynraine]

Fallen roses - part ten

All | Masterlist

part nine | part ten | part eleven

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Capitol fem!reader

warnings: eating disorder mentions, toxic family

The courtyard was alive with the usual chatter of Capitol students—luxurious clothes, fashionable accessories, and polished appearances. The Capitol’s elite were gathered in groups, chatting and laughing about everything from the latest social events to the newest beauty treatments. It was the usual midday scene, yet there was an underlying tension, a subtle shift in the air that only a few could sense.

Aurora sat at the table with Clemensia, Arachne, and the rest of her trio, trying her best to appear engaged. They were discussing upcoming parties, the latest fashion trends, and the gossip that only mattered in the Capitol’s high society. But Aurora wasn’t really listening. Her eyes were distant, her mind a million miles away. She nodded occasionally, offering half-hearted responses, but inside, she was elsewhere—far from the frivolity of her friends’ conversations.

Her energy was slipping, her mind clouded by the gnawing hunger that she had learned to ignore. The dizziness had returned, creeping up her spine, and the faint tremor in her hands betrayed the weakness she was trying so desperately to hide. Her stomach twisted painfully, but she said nothing. She had learned long ago to ignore it, to push it aside. Her body was just an obstacle to her mother’s goals, nothing more.

On the other side of the courtyard, Coriolanus was seated with his usual group: Sejanus, Felix, and Festus. They were discussing Capitol politics, their grades, and the latest public scandals, but Coriolanus wasn’t really focused on any of it. His mind, his gaze, kept drifting toward Aurora.

His friends were oblivious to his distraction. To them, it was just another day. Coriolanus had always been a perfectionist, always stressing about his grades and his future ambitions. They assumed that’s all he was preoccupied with today. But the truth was, his mind was occupied with only one thing: her.

Aurora’s behavior had been so different since the dinner party. It was subtle at first, but over the past few weeks, it had become impossible to ignore. The brightness that had once been in her eyes was fading, and he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him every time he saw her. He knew what she was going through—what she was doing to herself—and he couldn’t stand it.

His heart twisted every time he saw her try to smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He could tell she was exhausted, both mentally and physically. The way she sat there now, pale and withdrawn, was enough to make his stomach turn. He knew all too well that the lack of energy and food had to be catching up with her. Every time she reached for her glass or pushed her hair behind her ear, he saw how fragile she was becoming. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.

She was moments away from collapsing. He could feel it in his bones. Her body was shutting down, and he couldn’t help but feel helpless as he waited for it to happen. His instincts told him she would faint at any second. He couldn’t bear the thought of her crumpling to the ground, hitting her head, or falling into further danger. He wanted to be the one to catch her, to hold her up, to stop her from falling apart. He wasn’t sure what had changed in him over the past weeks, but the intensity of his worry for her was almost suffocating.

Coriolanus tried to distract himself by focusing on his friends, but he couldn’t. Sejanus was talking about the latest gossip from the Capitol, Felix was discussing his upcoming speech at a political event, and Festus was rambling about some new fashion trend. They were all engrossed in their conversation, but Coriolanus barely registered the words. His thoughts kept returning to Aurora.

His hands gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. He was tense, on edge. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn’t show it. He had to stay composed, for now. His friends, however, could sense something was off about him. They exchanged knowing glances, but none of them dared to ask him what was wrong. They assumed it was his usual stress about grades or the future. Coriolanus always worried about things beyond his control—grades, reputation, power. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

But today, they were wrong.

He was no longer worried about his grades. He was worried about her.

Aurora’s posture had sagged, her shoulders slumped under some invisible weight. She was staring blankly into her glass of water, as though lost in thought. Her lips were pale, and there was a slight tremble to her hands as she absentmindedly adjusted the hem of her sleeve.

Coriolanus couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, he stood up abruptly, excusing himself from his friends. Sejanus raised an eyebrow, but Coriolanus was already walking across the courtyard toward Aurora.

His steps were steady, purposeful. He couldn’t afford to waste time. Not now.

He arrived at her side, his presence breaking her trance. Aurora looked up at him, her expression a mix of surprise and reluctance, but before she could say anything, he spoke.

“Aurora, can I talk to you?” he asked, his voice low but laced with concern. “Alone.”

Aurora blinked, not expecting him to be so direct. She opened her mouth to respond, but her voice faltered. She knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. She didn’t want to burden him with the weight of her problems, especially when she could barely manage to carry them herself.

Aurora rose from the table slowly, her legs unsteady beneath her. Clemensia and Arachne exchanged knowing glances, whispering behind their hands, thinking it was some flirtatious moment between her and Coriolanus. Aurora wanted to roll her eyes, but the effort seemed too much. She simply followed Coriolanus, her feet dragging just slightly as they made their way to a quieter corner of the courtyard, away from the prying eyes of the Capitol elite.

Once they were alone, Coriolanus paused, turning to face her. His gaze was intense, like he was seeing straight through the facade she had so carefully constructed. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unsaid words, of worries neither of them had voiced until now.

“I—” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair, frustrated. He wasn’t sure how to start. He had thought about this moment so many times, but now that he was standing in front of her, it felt like every word was stuck in his throat. He could see her so clearly—her pale skin, the hollow look in her eyes—and it made him want to reach out, to do something, anything to make it better.

“Aurora.” His voice shook. “I need you to listen to me.”

She glanced up at him, her expression a mixture of surprise and exhaustion. She didn’t want to hear it, he could tell. She had always been proud, always so stubborn. She hated being pitied but, “I can’t stand to watch you suffer.” He admitted.

She met his gaze, her expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—a hesitation, a conflict that she couldn’t hide.

“I’m fine, Coriolanus,” she repeated, but there was less conviction in her voice this time.

He reached out, his hand gently resting on hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Aurora,” he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest, “you’re beautiful. You’re perfect, even if you don’t think so. Even if your family doesn’t think so. You don’t have to be what they want you to be. You just need to be you. Thats perfect enough.”

She pulled her hand away, but the gesture wasn’t dismissive. It was more like she didn’t know how to accept what he was offering.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He took another step closer, so close that their faces were nearly level. He couldn’t keep this bottled up, not anymore. “Please,” he whispered. “I need you to be okay. For you. For me.” His voice cracked on the last words, and for a moment, he let the wall he’d spent so much time building break. “I’ll do anything. I’ll beg if I have to. Just eat something. I can’t keep watching you fade.”

Aurora’s eyes softened, a fleeting moment of vulnerability breaking through her defenses. But she didn’t say anything, not immediately. The silence between them stretched on, thick and heavy with all the things left unsaid.

Coriolanus waited, hoping, praying she would listen. She had to. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. She couldn’t keep pretending.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she let out a shaky sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t know if I can… it’s hard,” she whispered.

“I know it is,” Coriolanus replied, his voice tender, “but it’s not worth it. You’re worth so much more than this. And I need you to be healthy. I need you to be happy, Aurora.”

She didn’t answer him, but something in her eyes softened, and for the first time in weeks, he felt a glimmer of hope.

The silence lingered between them, thick and heavy, as Aurora seemed to retreat into herself. Coriolanus watched her, desperately searching for any sign of acceptance, anything that would tell him she was hearing him.

“I’m scared, you know,” she whispered after a long pause, her voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let go, if I give in, I’ll disappoint them. I’ll disappoint my mother. Everything she’s put me through, everything she expects…” Her voice faltered, and she looked away, blinking rapidly as if fighting back tears.

Coriolanus’ heart broke all over again, and he stepped closer, his hand hovering for a moment before he reached out, gently brushing a strand of her hair from her face. “Aurora, you can’t live your life for her. You can’t keep punishing yourself because of her expectations. You matter. Your happiness matters. You deserve to be happy, now, not just when she decides you’ve earned it.”

Aurora’s gaze flickered back to his, and for the first time, the walls around her heart seemed to crack, just a little. She let out a shaky breath, looking down at her hands. “I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to break free from it all.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Coriolanus said softly, his voice unwavering. “You have me. I’m not going anywhere, Aurora. I’ll help you. You don’t need to be perfect for anyone but yourself. I just need you to be okay.”

Her lips trembled, and he could see the battle in her eyes—the tension between the pull of her mother’s demands and the yearning for something more, something better. Something real.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” she whispered again, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Coriolanus reached for her hand once more, his grip gentle but firm. “You don’t have to have it all figured out. But please, just take a step. Eat something. Please, for you.” His voice cracked again on the last word, and the vulnerability he’d been holding back surfaced, raw and unguarded. “I need you to be okay. I care about you too much to watch you hurt yourself.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at him, and for a long moment, there was nothing but the quiet between them. The world around them seemed to disappear, and it was just the two of them—two souls caught in the storm, each reaching out for something they both desperately needed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aurora gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Okay,” she said quietly, her voice shaky but determined. “I’ll try.”

Coriolanus let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, relief flooding through him. He smiled softly at her, a mix of joy and worry still dancing in his eyes.

“You don’t have to try alone,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “I’m here with you. Always.”

Aurora gave him a faint, uncertain smile, her first real smile in what felt like weeks. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something, and it was enough for now.