dictatorose

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early campaign-style photographs.... 🧐

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starter call... perchance... 🌹

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𝗪𝗔𝗥 𝗜𝗦 𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔢. 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗜𝗦 𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶. 𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔥.

coriolanus snow of suzanne collins' hunger games saga. by doll, 21+

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:3c

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this is so novel!coryo energy... a pretty bastard, planning your demise. 🌹

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[im]mor[t]ality

frank bidart, half-light || sigmund freud || fyodor dostoevsky, the brothers karamazov || david alfaro siqueiros, the march of humanity || frank bidart, half-light || neil gaimain & terry pratchett, good omens || fyodor dostoevsky, crime and punishment || crw nevinson, returning to the trenches || frank bidart, half-light

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thinking of some aus....

grishaverse. the house of snow is among the noble families in ketterdam, and the merchant council, but their militant investments in ravka took a hit when the nation's economy continued to worsen with the continous existence of the fold. soon after, coriolanus' father was killed on a voyage through the fold, and the family fell into poverty, though coriolanus maintains the appearance of class and wealth. attending the ketterdam university, he aims to get his diploma and simultaneously, does whatever possible to regain his family's lost wealth and prestige.

star wars.

prequel / originals era. coriolanus is a socialite and the heir of the snow family. an aspiring politician in the republic senate. he graduates his academy education on coruscant just before the empire rises and he enrolled into the imperial university, where he befriends sejanus plinth. smart and ambitious, he goes on to inherit the munitions business of the plinths, after he betrays sejanus and gets him killed for conspiring with rebels. from then on, he provides arms for the empire.

(also adjustable for sequels; like the same plot line, it's just the first order that he does business with.)

jedi au where he'd force sensitive and an absolute menace at the jedi temple, because he's materialistic, likes politics more than the force, and he'd prefer to keep his family name. very disillusioned. turns to the dark side.

general fantasy. this requires thought that I do not possess right now but he's the prince of a kingdom thrown into despair after a civil war, which took the life of his father. the crown needs money. coriolanus needs to find a way to replenish the budget.

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dynamics where it's snow and someone who's worse and / or willing to play just as dirty. i want this man humbled. i want him manipulated. i want him brought down.

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lucy gray and he existed in the clandestine. what sits between them begins and ends in the dark of night, in the hush of the hob after hours, behind the stage, in the stillness of the meadow. she was a death sentence for him, though one would be hard-pressed to find any evidence they knew each other. the destitute houses in district twelve rarely permitted for working television, and coriolanus had been relieved upon that discovery; no here knew him, of him, nor of his humiliations in the capitol. the distance maintained was respectable, and he had to suppress the urge to reach for her. she had the odd habit of inciting rulebreaking in him.

❝ they're just doing their job, trying to keep you all safe. ❞ shrugging, brows furrowed, he found her words suspiciously close to an accusation. the use of force was quite unnecessary in this instance, the young men that had been escorted out had barely been doing anything, he had to concede, but order needed to be maintained. the peacekeepers had their commands. regulations at the bar were already lenient as was.

and there it was again, that word. rebels. this week alone, he had heard enough about rebellions to last a lifetime. ❝ singing a few songs hardly constitutes a revolt. ❞ lucy gray was a bright flower blooming amidst the mud, and he wished to enjoy their stolen moments without dwelling on such morbid ideals. a chuckle was pulled from his lips as she pinched his arm, before he nudged her with his leg; let this be their own little rebellion. perhaps that thought was what prompted him to continue, ❝ there is not much in the way of music in the capitol. it'd have been nice for you to stay and sing there (...) would you have, if given the opportunity? ❞

⁀➷ @dictatorose sent : ' that was a little abrupt. ' ( source )

walking down from the humble makeshift stage, lucy gray made her way over to him, but she kept a safe distance as a reminder of his duties as a peacekeeper. his words bring a small chuckle as she looks around the hob before resting her gaze on his face. “ sometimes show’s gotta be cut short, ” she remarks while shaking her head. “ the men you work for don’t take too kindly to our music & don’t always appreciate when things get a lil’ livelier. ” momentarily, she paused, but her thought wasn’t done.

lucy gray reaches a hand to his arm & gives a gentle pinch of the blue fabric of his attire. her grin fades as she plays up the next words. “ some might say we’re rebels with all our music & whatnot. what say you, coriolanus snow? ”

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the districts taught the attitude of perception. one had to be wary of the black markets that stretched like vineyards through the back alleys, the hidden corners and cracks in the walls which had eyes. there was a web spun of rebel communications; that, he had discovered unwittingly through sejanus, and he loathed the knowledge of it. the hob itself was a mockery; people with not a dime to their name, living in makeshift houses, singing and dancing whilst the capitol still bore the harsh reminders of the war and the bombings. the districts taught entropy — they had their own wild laws here. he had not held much in the way of expectation but was still disappointed; mostly, he had been grieving the loss of his potential. it would be easier, he thought, to stomach the indignity had he not been an exceptional student of high class, with prospects and opportunities for a bright future.

fish monet said, i tend to be over-fond of risks.

his spiral of ruminations was ungraciously unwound by the sound of her voice. he had to bite back a sigh and a reprimand for whatever @imprvdente had undoubtedly gotten roped into this time. opting for jest, he scoffed out a laugh. ❝ as am i, apparently, seeing as i have covered for you twice this week. ❞ between her, lucy gray, and sejanus, he had developed sympathy for dog wranglers. despite himself, and any hope he had of one day returning to the capitol hinging on good behaviour, the grin that tugged at his features was somewhat genuine. that had been a recent revelation — the camaraderie born of the barracks was so unlike the cultivated alliances he had held at the academy. he didn't dislike it. if he would be wasting away here for the next two decades, he ought to make the most of it. there was a simple pleasure to being anonymous, not having to bear the weight of his name. here, the girl from district four was no lesser than he, a sister-in-arms. at least in station. ❝ wait until after breakfast before you go running off, fish. it's too early in the morning to break protocol, and earlier for me to join you. ❞

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the birdsong that carried through the trees seemed to him irritating and incessant, and the greenery far too sweet for his tastes. then again, everything made a habit of irking him today. he was turned inside out by the ache of her voice, the timbre of her words, each syllable nestling at the escarp of his heart. i don’t want to be scared of you, she said and he halted in his tracks, leaving a measured distance between them. anger flared between his ribs instinctively; after everything he had sacrificed for @roseguided, how could she doubt him still? then she wrapped her arms around herself, and his resolve softened, anger smothered upon the realization that she was likely frightened of the situation, not him, and was just confused in the wake of the chaos. she would have to be convinced of his devotion; he had broken every rule for her, what was one more? one more rule or one more body, it hardly mattered now. the pile had been growing between them.

❝ we didn't have a choice. ❞ we, because she was implicated as well. they all were, like the prisoner's dilemma he remembered reading about in class, a lifetime ago. his words lacked the conviction he had wanted them to hold, but that was to be expected. he had barely slept, mind unravelling like thread, as he tugged at the seams of each thought until they unwound, running through plans and possibilities. it had been self-defence, in a way. but the notion sounded as unconvincing as the first time he had said it to himself the night before when he and sejanus had gone back to the barracks. sejanus... if anything, the mayor's daughter ought to weigh on his conscience, a reminder to stop colluding with rebels and instead, devote that energy to upholding his peacekeeper duties as he ought to. the dna on that gun, however, was not sejanus' but rather his, and were the guns to be discovered, coriolanus doubted the mayor would care much for the technicality.

❝ it was her or us. i made you a promise before you went into that arena, lucy gray, and i intend to keep it. ❞ he chanced a step closer and gently grasped her chin, being careful not to frighten her further before he tipped it upward. he wished he still had his handkerchief, to dab away at the tears pooling in her eyes. he used his thumb instead, caressing her cheek. flesh to flesh, it felt more intimate than the handkerchief, stripped of courtesy and chivalry. everything was wild and wanting out in the districts. he found courting her was easier when she had been relying on him in the capitol, like holding a bird in his hands and being responsible for nourishing it. ❝ this is no different than the compact, or the food, or the vat of snakes. i will always protect you, always. you must know that. ❞ please, tell me you know that.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘. after the events of last night, with the mayors daughter & her boyfriend, she had come to view him in a different light than before. what has changed so much since their last time seeing one another or even before that, after the games when she got sent home & he got punished for what he did to save her ? no matter how hesitant she was, the songbird knew she would always have some place in her heart for him. because he saved her from the arena, from the bombs. coriolanus had broken so many rules for her, but lucy gray knew when not to keep wool over her eyes. knew when to say enough was enough & this might just be it ! ( why does some part of her yearn for coriolanus to choose good over evil ? maybe it’s because she wants to believe he’s capable of choosing something else over himself. )

@dictatorose said, " I WOULD DO IT ALL AGAIN IF I COULD HOLD YOU FOR A MINUTE. "

he speaks & it catches the young woman off guard, body turning to face him. shoulders are tense, but hands hold themselves relaxed at her side. lucy gray feels a rock in her stomach. he didn’t kill them for her, did he ? as much hell as the mayors daughter had put her through, lucy gray hadn’t wanted her dead. not really. ❛ what happened last night, you didn’t do such-a thing for me, did you ? ❜ asked steadily, void of accusations for fear of upsetting him. ❛ ‘cause . . what you did, coryo, it scared me. ❜ hand rests against her midsection, feeling the tightness there with the waver of her voice. ❛ i don’t wanna be scared of you. ❜ head gives a small shake, tears prickling her eyes & making them burn. a breeze rushes gently through the meadow, branches ruffle.

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the merriment in the hall seemed to be taunting him with a personal vendetta, and a suffocating level of discipline was taken to steel his features into the refined indifference he usually donned. he had aimed for a balance between charm and aloofness, to ward off the unwanted, dull conversations threatening to douse the last flames of his tolerance for the evening. it was a testament to the resolution of his manners, that the thoughts plaguing him were kept at bay — the coy grin he wore, the glass in his hand of which he took measured sips to keep the facade but not to indulge, the careful distance that kept him near the center but closer to the side. with poison bitten back betwixt fangs, he ruminated on the present turn of events as his companion approached him and posed an invitation to dance, that he must have relied too much on the charm and not enough on the latter, which had made him appear far too approachable. ❝ if you insist, ❞ the teasing comment was stripped of its derision or scorn, as intended. the roll of his eyes could be interpreted as playful. ❝ i would loathe to disappoint. ❞ the man said, grinning, and offered a hand. all in all, coriolanus obliged the proposal with more dignity than he had thought was in his possession. ❝ though, fair warning: you might be disappointed, still. i've not danced in years. ❞

open to mutuals.

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what if someone coerced snow into dancing with them at a gala / event   ...   personally i think that would be fun :) 

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siege and storm, pt. 1.

dialogue prompts from siege and storm by leigh bardugo.

the longer you’re free, the easier it will get.

the sham doesn’t suit you.

you have a bad habit of acting like fools and calling it heroic.

i’m notoriously immune to tales of woe.

unless your story involves a talking dog, i don’t want to hear it.

sulking gives you wrinkles.

lying gives you warts.

were you ever my friend?

i loved being your friend.

you did what you had to.

we had a deal.

there are no others like us.

tell me you’re alright.

none of this is your fault. none of it.

you’re humoring me.

you require a lot of coddling.

we’ll find a way out. we always do.

don’t tell me it was all for nothing.

i like to have powerful enemies. makes me feel important.

i can’t decide if you’re crazy or stupid.

do you ever answer a question directly?

do you ever take anything seriously?

i tend to be over-fond of risks.

anything worth doing always starts out as a bad idea.

you certainly know how to put on a show.

if you want to know something about me, all you have to do is ask.

where did you come from?

were you always this much trouble?

can we get to the cuddling later?

when people say ‘impossible’ they usually mean ‘improbable’.

every time you say ‘trust me’, i trust you a little less.

weakness is a guise. wear it when you need to show people you’re human, never when you feel it.

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as i have yet to arrange my carrd, i thought i might delve a little into my primary arc, which will follow coriolanus into the beginnings of his political career and into his presidential campaign, the reconstruction of panem into a complete autocracy with the elimination of all political opposition, as well as the gradual development of the hunger games as entertainment. most prominent is the theme of utter moral decay that underlies his entire character, as he cuts off any potential for humanity within himself as he hoards more & more power. i want to explore him continuously choosing himself over others, over the country's welfare. the extent of the distance he sets up between himself and the rest of society; since boyhood, he believes he is superior to his classmates, then thinks he is better-suited than the other politicians, until eventually, there are no more stepping-stones.

the gist of the arc is this: after tbosas, snow interns with dr gaul at the university, before being promoted to head gamemaker following his graduation, during which time he launched countless initiatives to improve the workings of the games, from establishing the career institutions in districts 1/2/4, to integrating stylists & interviews, among other things, to engage the capitol audience. through this position, he further integrates himself into the high society of panem, amassing support for his agenda, which propels his eventual presidential campaign. he is favoured among the capitol, especially within the old noble families, for his creative ideas and promises of a booming economy. not wanting to take any risks, and with a paranoia more rampant than ever, he swiftly deals with his opposition through poison. a poison that leaves him with ailments, too, to alleviate suspicions. he takes over, and over the course of decades, gradually dismantles any and all avenues of a democratic system. suppression of the districts comes as a result of the restoration of the capitol to its full glory, with higher taxes & quotas. any doubts & qualms he debates with himself, which are present, especially during the early years, are ultimately rationalized as he covets control & hoards it.

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concept : snow draping his coat over your muse because they're cold 🥰 ( the plot twist is that he does it to patronise them )

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a super secret starter call of varying length between paragraph to novel 🤍