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optimisticbirdwitch · 2 months ago

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ft: mainstream!mark and variants (mohawk, viltrum, omni, sheisty, sinister) (invincible) reader: fem wc: 2604 summary: hey siri is it gay to want to crack the female version of my dead best friend? cw: canon typical violence, foul language, and the variants are kinda sorta freaky in this requested by: @sophsthebest

this was so fun to write lowk and I would've been done faster if not for the blood moon event in dbd so err yeah I'm going to go die in a hole now

Life is strange, really.

One moment, you’re helping refold shirts because some people don’t even have the decency to put stuff back to where they found it, and the next, an international warning tells you to stay inside because there are evil variants of your boyfriend now roaming the Earth with unclear intentions.

You share a look with your coworker, who looks just as off-put by the information, her fingers curling around her phone as her brow dips. Just as her lips part to speak, the first building falls. It’s only a few blocks away, and the ground beneath your feet trembles at its sudden collapse.

You hear the screams of those out on the street, internally debating whether or not to follow suit until a notification from Mark lights up your screen, the ridiculous nickname you’d set when you were twelve a small comfort to your racing heart.

MarkyWarky: please tell me you’re okay

You: i’m fine

You: i’m just scared mark

You: why are there so many versions of you anyway…

MarkyWarky: i wish i could tell you

MarkyWarky: just stay put alright im otw

The message does little to soothe, and you can’t help but stare at your screen with nothing but apprehension. Your coworker is quick to seize you by the arm when the sound of collapsing buildings and wailing cars draws closer, ushering you into the break room with the floor manager as though the small, unwindowed room would protect you from the raw strength of a Viltrumite.

“Holy shit, we’re gonna die…We’re actually going to die…” The floor manager, Kasandra, curls into herself with tears already welled in her eyes as she chokes back a sob. No one says anything, unable to face the grim reality at steak when debris begins to crumble around you. You all huddle into the furthest corner as your hope in Mark begins to wane.

Small pieces of rubble hit your head as you tuck your head tightly into Kasandra’s shaking shoulder, the lights overhead flickering violently when the ceiling begins to cave in on itself. There’s no use holding back the tears now and you can’t hide your anguished cries, unheard over the collapsing infrastructure.

This is it, you think, mentally saying your goodbyes to everyone you’ve grown to love. Amber. Eve. William. Mark—oh, Mark. The annoying boy next door who grew to be your first love.

Sparks flare as the light above you finally collapses, but you don’t feel a throbbing pain in your head or death’s cold embrace, instead, you find yourself wrapped in a familiar pair of arms, still clinging to an almost catatonic Kasandra while your coworker grips the forearm wrapped around the three of you.

“I’ve got you,” a voice in your ear says, and you can feel the tears begin to well once more, though, this time out of relief. Mark is quick to shoot from the rubble, hold unwavering before he sets the three of you down and urges you to run to safety.

Your two coworkers are quick to flee, but you stupidly linger, worry etched onto your features at the sight of Mark’s beaten face and tattered suit. In the distance, you can see Eve facing valiantly against a variant, the odd cloth mask adorned on his face his most defining trait. She pants, her palms facing outward to just barely raise a shield against his erratic punches.

Mark pulls your attention back to him, face pinched as his thumb traces your lower lip in an attempt to ground both you and himself. His lips are soft against your forehead for a brief moment before he pulls back, staring at you through his cracked goggles with an emotion you can’t quite place.

“I love you,” you whisper, stroking his bruised cheek softly.

“I love you too. But, you need to go. Now. I’ll check on you soon, promise.”

So, you run as fast as your legs can carry you, doing your best to ignore the ruins and corpses that seem to block every turn.

You don’t get far.

A shadow overhead blocks the sun—its presence so oppressive and commandeering that it freezes you in place.

“Another survivor?”

You can’t bring yourself to turn despite the way your heart lurches at the familiarity of the voice. Your breath hitches when the shadow lowers—whatever twisted version of Mark this is drawing ever closer like a lion to its prey.

“I thought those other two were the last of them, but what’s one more?” The voice is cold, almost clinical, very unlike the warmth that radiated off of your Mark. A glove is quick to find purchase on your throat, and you glance down to see the red rubber shining beneath the sun.

Blood coats the hand, tinting the glove an even darker shade of red than what you’d first surmised. You try not to think about the warmth of it as his grip grows tighter, making it harder to breathe, but not enough to kill, like he’s messing with you in some cruel, twisted way.

“You’re this dimension’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” His lips press against the shell of your ear, jerking your body to face the fight between Mark and the clothed one from before alongside Eve, who reaches out to you weakly before eventually crashing against the side of one of the buildings. Your Mark wheezes, clutching at his chest when the cloth-masked variant throws him into a nearby building by the hair. “Pathetic.”

The sound barrier tears as another Mark enters the fray, his mohawk wild and unkempt in the wind as he grins at the sight of battle, though there’s no amusement behind his smile. “Who the hell do you think you are running off like that?” For a moment, his wild eyes slip to where you and your captor reside, a flicker of…something flashing through his before it fizzles away. “Keeping hostages alive? Didn’t peg you for the cruel type.”

You barely register the click of the Invincible’s tongue over the roaring beat of your heart, his thumb remaining stationary over your pulse point; a warning. He could snap your neck at any given moment, and you don’t know what’s stopping him, but you’re grateful for whatever’s causing him to hesitate.

“Come on, just put her out of her misery already,” the mohawked Mark goads with a small shrug as he pulls his fist back to punch your Mark into the concrete when the cloth-masked variant throws him in his direction. Cracks split beneath your feet at the sheer force, the ground almost giving way, but all you can do is watch as your Mark slowly gets up from the crater his body had formed.

He locks eyes with you, something snapping inside of him at the sight of the variant clad in a suit nearly identical to Omni-Man’s wrapping his hand around your throat.

“[Name]!” He calls out, bursting free from the grasp of the two other Marks with a renewed sense of vigor.

Time seems to freeze the moment your name leaves his bloodied lips, the Mark holding you hostage too stunned to react when your Mark’s fist collides with his jaw hard enough to send him three blocks away. It isn’t long until you’re swept into Mark’s arms, the hold both protective and possessive as he glares at the other two, his chest heaving with each labored breath he struggles to take.

“No fuckin’ way.” The mohawked variant blinks slowly, his lips pulling into a mix of a grimace and a smirk. “That’s unfair on so many levels.” He turns to the Mark in a cloth mask who seems to share the same sentiment, mumbling under his breath about how unfair it is that this version of him gets the hot babe.

Omni-Man Mark merely scoffs when he floats back, his suit still pristine as though he’d never been thrown at all while he crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the way you tremble in this version of him’s hold. You aren’t the best friend he’d killed mercilessly back in his dimension. Here, you were a woman—his woman. And he’d be damned if he couldn’t kill two birds with one stone.

A best friend and a wife. Who would’ve thought?

While he’d never seen the other, male, version of you in a romantic light, his heart stirs at the thought of taking this version of you for himself. It’s not like it’ll take much to kill this Mark; he’s already as good as dead anyway—

“Is everything alright here?” Clad in white and silver, yet another version of Mark descends from the sky like some sort of disgraced angel.

“Ugh, why are you here?” Mohawk Mark rolls his eyes obnoxiously, his gaze only briefly flickering to the new variant.

“Angstrom sent me to see if you all were sticking to the plan, which clearly you aren’t.”

“Aww, the lil’Viltrum baby can’t do anything without a mission? How sad!” He bats his lashes dramatically before sneering. “What are you gonna do next, bark? Who gives a shit about the plan? You’re acting as if you weren’t gonna kill him after anyway!”

The Mark in the Viltrum uniform chooses not to dignify him with a response.

Unbothered by his counterpart’s nonchalance, the mohawked Mark sets his sights back on you, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome you in with a hug. “Hey, [Name], it’s just me. Just Mark. Your best friend, remember? We used to play CoD and shit when your parents were out.”

Viltrum Mark’s brows furrow at the familiar name, steady gaze finally paying you mind as you try to sink further into the Mark of this dimension’s arms. You’re a lot…softer than he recalls you being, your form far less filled out; almost feminine. But, that couldn’t be right, right? How cruel would it be for this version of him to have the perfect mate whilst he, while grateful for your prior companionship, was stuck with nothing more than a best friend? One that he’d ultimately killed for resisting.

Surely, his brain is playing tricks on him.

Then he hears it—they all hear it.

The small terrified whimper you let out, the sound almost heavenly as you try to curl into Mark like your life depends on it. Which you suppose it does at this very moment.

A collective groan settles across all the present variations of Mark, all differing levels of arousal. They can practically taste the fear emanating off of you, stalking closer like a pack of deranged wolves.

Disgust pulls at Mark’s lips at the look in their eyes, his arms trembling around you as the last line of defense between you and these monstrous versions of him. “What the hell are you guys on about?” He seethes, only to be met by a suffocating silence.

Viltrum Mark appears in front of you before you and Mark can process his presence, tearing you out of your boyfriend’s arms despite your screaming protests. His grip is firm, but it’s the underlying softness in it that has you trembling with both fear and confusion. One of his hands finds your chin, stroking the contour of your jaw while his thumb gently presses down on your lower lip in a similar fashion that your Mark had done earlier.

“You’re [Name].” His face twists with perplexion as he speaks. “But, you’re so soft.” You feel his other hand fall from your arm, settling on your hip as if to prove a point. He squeezes and prods the fat, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the soft skin underneath, his fingers splaying against your stomach while his nose buries itself in your neck. “You’d be a great mother.”

No.

This can’t be happening—

You’re pulled into another set of arms. These ones leaner yet more possessive than the Viltrum Mark’s. But not yours.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you.” Mohawk Mark’s voice rasps mockingly above you, his arm curling around you and dangerously close to your breasts. You know he feels your heart stop, snorting cruelly as he pulls you flush against him. His gloved hand tilts your chin up to him cruelly, relishing in the way tears well in your eyes.

“P-Please…” You weakly claw at his wrist despite knowing how useless it is in comparison to his innate strength.

Holy fuck, he could get used to the sound of that.

Man, why couldn’t you be a girl in his world too? Oh, the things he would do to you. How he would ruin you. He wonders if you’re similar to his [Name], the [Name] who trusted him to do the right thing only to die trying to stop what’s already been done. Do you play the same sport as your male counterpart? Enjoy the same food? Ah, whatever, you’re still his, no matter his relation to you. Best friend or otherwise.

“Get away from her you fucking freak!” Your Mark’s garbled voice reaches your ears, his fist colliding with the side of the mohawked variant’s head, sending him careening into the white-clad Viltrumite. Mark doesn’t even get the chance to look over you before he shoots into the air with you in his hold, tucking your head into his shoulder as he whispers calming words into the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby,” he echoes his prior sentiment, flying as fast as he can with the cloth-mask and Omni-Man wannabe hot on his tail.

A familiar red glove catches Mark’s leg, snapping it easily. Mark screams, his teeth grinding as he pivots his other leg directly into the variant’s face, no doubt breaking his nose before he crashes into the cloth-masked Mark, who yells obscenities as the two of them crash into the city below.

Finally, silence settles between the two of you. Heavy with confusion. Heavy with fear.

“What the hell was that…” You cling to him, trembling like a newborn fawn in his hold.

“I—I don’t know.” He buries his nose in your neck as he lowers into a desolate field miles away from any civilization, breathing in your comforting scent beneath the smell of iron and ash that seem to cling to your skin while he settles against a tree. The field is peaceful; untouched by the destruction that plagues the rest of the world.

“...What about Eve and the others?” You hesitate, palms hovering over his broken leg to do your best to put the limb back together. The bone melds back together grotesquely, it's disgusting snap a sound you think you’ll never get used to.

“Eve slipped away before things got ugly. I’m not too sure about the others…” He lets out a low hiss, his fingers digging into the ground when his skin gets pulled tautly back into place. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I won’t let them get to you, not as long as I’m still breathing, alright?”

“Okay,” you breathe out, collapsing into his chest as you try not to think about everything you’ve lost in such a short amount of time. He kisses your forehead gently, leaning back against the tree for only a moment of respite.

“Aww, what a cute sight.” A patronizing voice overhead has both of you snapping your heads to the sound. Clad in yellow and black with a billowing cape behind him, this version of Mark sneers, his gaze looking between you and Mark. His brows raise beneath his mask, lips forming something akin to a sadistic grin. “Well, well, well. You’re looking a bit different here, aren’t you, [Name]?”

Shit.

©asarii 2025 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site or run my works through ai

#invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible x fem!reader #mark grayson #mohawk mark #fem reader #mohawk mark x reader #omni mark #invincible fanfic #omni mark x reader #sinister mark x reader #sinister mark #viltrum mark #viltrum mark x reader #invincible variants #invincible variants x reader #invincible—・❥

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optimisticbirdwitch · 5 months ago

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Lilo & Stitch (2025) dir. Dean Fleischer Camp

#Live Action Disney #Lilo & Stitch #Adorable

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optimisticbirdwitch · 5 months ago

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can we get their first intense argument after they’re official. like they’ve had little spats here and there but nothing crazy but now they’re really upset with one another and she flinches while they’re arguing, obviously carmy would never hurt her but we’ve seen on the show he can get real angry and that just triggers her

Warnings: Arguing, descriptions of a previous abusive relationship (not with Carmy), angsty ending (for now…)

The Bear and The Bean universe

You had flinched.

He had thrown his hands up in frustration and on the other side of the room you had flinched.

The two of you had been arguing over a stupid thing that he couldn’t even remember anymore, he had thrown his hands up in frustration, and on the other side of the room you had flinched.

You had flinched because of him. You had thought that he was going to hit you.

That tiny gesture from you doused his anger quicker than water on a flame, replacing it with concern for you and guilt that you had even briefly thought that he would hurt you. Eyebrows pinched together, he stepped towards you, seeking to comfort you; his heart plummeted when you stepped backwards on instinct.

You were crying now, choked staccato sobs that you were trying to get under control as you stared at the ground, arms curled around yourself like armour. He wanted so badly to wrap you in his arms, to wipe away your tears, but that wasn’t what you needed from him then. Even in his fear and panic, he knew that you weren’t really there with him in that moment.

You were miles and years away, in your old apartment, with your old boyfriend, the one who taught you to flinch.

Keeping his distance, his hands held up in surrender, Carmy tried to bring you back to the present.

“Baby, please, I- fuck, I wasn’t going to, I’d never- I’m so sorry-”

“Get out.”

Your voice was tiny, terrified. He could see you shaking and his arms ached with the need to hold you, to make it all better.

“Baby-”

You couldn’t even look at him, your hands in fists at your sides.

“I need you to get out.”

He wasn’t sure when he had begun to cry too but his eyes stung with tears. Desperate to do the right thing, he nodded.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll do that. Just…just please call me so we can talk? I…I want to fix this, baby.”

You managed to nod and he clung to the gesture like a lifeline, a hope in hell that this would work out.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Desperate to prove to you that you were safe with him, that you were always safe with him, he rummaged in the pocket of his jeans. “Look, I’ll…I’ll leave my key right here, okay? You call me when you want and I’ll pick up and we can talk.”

You didn’t acknowledge that he had spoken, still as a statue in the middle of the living room. He knew that there was nothing more that he could do in that moment, that he had to leave and trust that you would call when you were ready.

As soon as the apartment door clicked shut behind him, your sobs echoed through the wood.

#the bear and the bean universe #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto blurb #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto angst

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optimisticbirdwitch · 5 months ago

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These tiktok edits of luigi’s legal team are so fucking funny 😭

Credit to i.loveluigim on tiktok

#luigi thoughts #luigi mangione thoughts

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optimisticbirdwitch · 5 months ago

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the prayer you left unanswered ✦ series masterlist

a knight!gojo x goddess!reader series

status : ongoing (2/5 chapters, 12.8k word count) ✦ genre: fantasy -> modern, angst, tragedy ✦ warnings: eventual yandere, dark content, religious imagery, dubcon elements

synopsis : once, you granted your beloved knight eternal youth—not just to protect him, not just so he would stand unchallenged, but because you wanted him to be happy. you wanted him to live without fear, without loss, without an end to the warmth that made him so radiant.

but you never lived to see it yourself.

he slayed the demon king, yet you perished in the war. and so he lived, watching time erase you. watching new gods rise, new myths take root, until there were no traces of you left—not your temples, not your name, not even a whisper of worship.

then, in a world that has long forgotten you, he sees you again. no throne, no divinity—just a fragile girl with a face carved into his soul. a goddess who no longer remembers she was ever divine.

no matter. gods can be made. worship can be forced. and his prayers can still be answered.

you will answer. you owed him that much, didn't you?

— chapter index

a boy, reckless and restless, hides where he shouldn't—behind temple doors he always avoided. inside, beneath the glow of painted glass and whispered prayers, he finds something unexpected. a goddess, a promise, and a vow that will follow him forever.

01 – she should try sweets

02 – to be worthy of her gaze

years of devotion have led to this moment. he stands among knights, waiting to be chosen. when the goddess finally lays her hands upon him, it is everything he dreamed of—yet the weight of her blessing is far heavier than he ever imagined.

more to come.

#gojo x reader #yandere gojo #gojo satoru #cross posted on ao3 #jjk x reader #tw.yandere #jjk fanfic #tw.dark content #gojo x female reader #dead dove do not eat

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optimisticbirdwitch · 5 months ago

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That's amazing

him actually flirting with girls in his letters…

#luigi mangione

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optimisticbirdwitch · 5 months ago

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Delusional king 👑

The Nurse

1/1

summary: Coriolanus never forgets about the nurse who treated his snakebite, and he is determined to not let her forget him.

Warnings: unrequited love, graphic wounds, stalking, coryo being de lu lu, non-con, pretty tame for me to be honest.

Word Count: 12, 250

Thank you all for you patience and kind words!

Coriolanus was sure he was going to die. He could feel the poison traveling up his arm, and through the rest of his body.

He never should have trusted Lucy-gray. Love made him stupid.

Now just as he was getting his life back, it was being slowly sucked from his body.

Betrayed by someone that owed him her life. She would have died in the Hunger games if not for him. He sacrificed everything for her, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted his final breath.

She couldn’t have it. Not now that everything he had fought his whole life for was within his reach. His fathers compass agrees. It points him in the direction of help.

Through blurry eyes, he could see the gates of the compound. There they could fix him and send him onward to officer training. There he could live up to his name.

Coriolanus struggles to put one foot in front of the other. His body felt like it was on fire. Sweat poured from him, the snake's poison, and his long journey back in the sun teamed up to exhaust him.

The ringing ears indicated that Coriolanus was done. He could no longer place where he was. Was the gate in front of him, or has he spun in a completely different direction?

The weight of the compass falls from his hands, unable to help him. The world felt as if it was spinning him around. His vision was blurry and limited to two feet in front of him.

“Sir, are you alright?”, a low yell was heard over his ringing ears.

He swiped his hand to see if he could touch them, but it shoosh’s through the air. It used all the energy he had left. No longer with the energy to stand, he crumbles to his knees.He feels the hard rocks dig into him, so he knew he was on the path to the compound.

After everything, this is how he dies. He regrets trying to make it back. It would have been better if his body was lost in the woods. Less humiliating than being found trying to crawl back like a coward.

“You’re okay”, the sweet voice spoke, closer.

He looks to see eyes staring at him. In a panic, he pushes away from them, certain it was Lucy-Gray coming to finish the job. The action pushes the side of his body into the road's gravel, scraping his skin, and leaving smaller rocks wedged in his side.

“I want to help. I just want to help. It’s okay”, the voice spoke. Not Lucy-Gray. Not a threat.

He could feel his body being hoisted up. You tucked your small shoulders under his arm, and wrapped your arm around his waist.

“You’re going to be okay”, you spoke again.

He tried to assist you in walking him forward. All his weight was lent on you, but you were determined not to drop him.

You yell for the guarding peacekeepers to come help, as they shuffle forward.

He stumbles, nearly taking you to the ground with him, but you are quick to steady the weight again. You move forward again, slower this time to allow for Coriolanus to balance himself without his senses.

You scream a name that he recognised from training, but couldn’t place a face to.

It was lucky that you was friendlier than he was. The gate swung wide at the name. No formal checks of identity that should have been done according to protocol were made.

Your name was called back, but Coriolanus screamed in pain over it. His arm began to pound in agony. He tried to move it up to his chest, but his arm had lost all movement.

You ordered the men to abandon their post to take him to the medical camp. He was surprised when they did it without a fight.

The weight of him is lifted off you as he is lifted off the ground by two officers. With one carrying his legs, and one lifting him under his arms, Coriolaus is jogged to the medical tent.

It didn’t matter. It was too late. Coriolanus Snow would die in district 12 like his father. Rebels would end the great Snow line.

He could hear you as you led the men. All sight was lost, his consciousness slipping in and out as he heard curtains being drawn, and a hasty search for something.

Coriolanus is placed on a hard bed, and something tight is wrapped around his arm.

The last thing he felt was a soothing hand sweeping over his head. A kind last touch, he thought.

He woke from heat. His whole body felt as if he was in a furnace.

A cool rag was wiped over his head, and he opened his eyes enough to see you staring back. His eyesight had returned but he had to fight to keep his eyes open.

He was laying on his uninjured arm. He raises it slightly to catch your small wrist in his hand as you go to dab his sweat again. You remain calm, waiting for him to fall back asleep.

His hand drops to the bed with your wrist.His cheek presses up against your fingers, the wet rage soaks the bedding beneath. Still you leave it there until he is back asleep before you continue your work.

The next time he woke up, he was alone with a pounding headache.

His sight was back, but his arm still ached, and he could feel the sweat on his head from his temperature.

The medical facility was large, rows and rows of beds stretched out. Most were filled with men of various ailments.

Across the large space was a wall that separated the patients from the rest of the medical facility. A large glass window showed the nurses den.

Two nurses sat behind it talking. Their uniform was light blue like the peacekeepers uniform. Only the uniform was fashioned into half length sleeves which were cuffed at their elbows and a form fitting skirt. Despite efforts of the design, it was manly.

The collars seemed too large for womens neck, the pockets on each side were too big across their chests. Coriolanus realized that they were old peacekeeper uniforms repurposed for the nurses.

Coriolaus looked up to see the railings of the curtain that could be pulled for privacy but he was too weak to rise.

He layed in disbelief that he had survived. A second chance was given to him. Nothing would stand in his way now. No longer will he be swayed by his emotions. His only focus would be rising to the top. How he got there no longer mattered. He had tried hard work, and moral reasoning, and it left him dead in the forest.

Coriolanus looked down at his bite, it was covered in a white wrap, but he could see the discolouration of his skin, and feel the liquid as it oozed out of the bite.

He hoped it would leave a scar. A reminder of a hard lesson learnt.

A doctor interrupted his thoughts to check his vitals. He was an older doctor, with gray, thin hair, and wrinkled skin. But he wore no glasses, and walked tall, and straight.

“You were lucky, Mr Snow. You were found just in time. Even two minutes later, and you would have been dead”, he said, writing down on his clipboard.

Coriolanus huffs. After everything he was owed a bit of luck.

He remembers the girl who found him. Her soft touch, and beautiful eyes. The same women who had attended to him with the cool rag.

“Who found me?”, he asks the doctor.

“One of the nurses here. Very lucky indeed, Mr Snow. One of my favorite nurses, Nurse Y/n. She took good care of you. You owe her your life”.

It felt as if he had been bitten again. He didn’t want to owe anybody anything.

“I would like to thank her”.

He remembers how you struggled to keep his weight up right. You could have left him. Had him be someone else's problem, but you didn’t. You were still learning that goodness would not come back to you.

“You’ll get your chance. She’s on night shift tonight”.

He felt eager to see you. Someone in this world yet to learn it was dog eat dog.

The doctor said you were his favorite. That could only mean that you were kind, and beautiful. Coriolanus expected nothing less from you.

Coriolanus waits while the others sleep. The shifts had still not been switched yet. He grew inpatient. He wanted to thank you, and go to sleep.

But the same nurse who delivered his dinner sat there flipping through a magazine behind the glass.

Hours passed, he thought about abandoning the idea, and going to sleep. The hospital was small, and inadequately staffed. He was sure to run into you at a later date. Yet he made no move to sleep. Part of him wanted to see you tonight.

Finally, he did. The shifts were changed, and the nurse he had grown to detest was putting down her magazine to greet you.

He recognized you instantly as you entered the nurses den.You put down your coat and bag, as you talk to the nurse on duty. For a late night shift you seemed in good spirits.

You look out from the window, and for some reason Coriolanus pretended to be asleep. He didn’t want you to think he was a stalker, waiting up for you.

Only one nurse was on duty overnight due to staff shortage, and Coriolanus felt relieved when the other nurse returned back to the nurses quarters. He wanted to be alone with you.

He waits patiently until you come out to check on the men.

You pulled blankets over them like they were children, put their limbs back onto their small beds. You made sure every man's vitals were where they were supposed to be. More work than the other nurse did her entire shift.

You are slow getting to him, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoyed watching you as you worked.

It was dark, and you were so focused on your task, you didn’t see him staring at you until you reached his bed.

“Hello” he greets.

“Mr Snow”, you address, “You should be asleep”.

“I was waiting for you. I hear it is you that I have to thank for saving my life”.

“Hardly. I just assisted”.

You were bashful about saving a man's life.

“Well thank you for assisting to save my life, and for carrying me to the gates. I wouldn’t have got there if you hadn’t arrived”.

The blush on your cheeks was heavenly. A small smile teased your lips, and you looked shyly down. It wasn’t often you got praised, he guessed, he would try to do it as often as possible.

“It was no problem”, you mutter.

Your eyes suddenly shoot down to him, and your posture straightens.

“Is your arm giving you pain?”, you ask him.

It was, but he didn’t want anymore drugs making him hazy so he denies the throbbing sensation.

“No. I feel fine”.

“Can I get you an extra blanket or pillow?”.

His heart twists at your words. He very rarely hears ‘what can i do for you’, instead of ‘what can i take from you’. It was a nice change.

“No, thank you”.

“If you change your mind, let me know. I have rounds to do. Any problem, push your call button” you point to a yellow light clicker next to him, “try to get some sleep. Rest is important in your recovery”.

He almost begged you to stay, but it was a childish need.

“Thank you, nurse Y/n”, he returns.

You leave him with a smile, “of course”.

Over the next couple of days of bed rest Coriolanus grew restless to see you. It felt like torture, waiting hours to sometimes only catch a glimpse of you as you pottered in the staffs den, or made your rounds on the other side of the hospital.

He mostly hated Tuesdays, and Fridays, as they were your days off.

He felt jealous when he saw you attend to other patients. He knew it was silly, it was your job, but he didn’t like being attended to by anyone else, and he didn’t like you attending to anyone else. He didn’t like that you had a job at all. Let alone one this taxing.

But it did mean that he got to see you.

He liked to think that he was your favorite, but you gave no indication that it was true.

You were kind to everyone. Had repours with nearly all of the men in your wards. Some even called you by your first name only. Coriolanus felt it was disrespectful and too familiar for his likening.

The man next to him had a leg blown off in an explosive test gone wrong. Sometimes it felt as if he was your favorite. You would spend more time at his bed, than Coriolanus’s. And you always called him by his name, Francies, but always called Coriolanus, Mr snow.

Still you found his compass for him, polished and delivered it straight to him, that was a sign that you favorited him. You only performed within your job requirements for Francies, you went beyond for him.

He began to worry that love had made him stupid again. Like Lucy-Gray, you consumed his thoughts.

Except here, you held the power. He could only see you when you decided to visit him, where he could visit Lucy-Gray in her enclosure anytime he wished. You fed him, he fed Lucy-Gray. He hated being on the other side of the power imbalance. He promised himself that he would only be on top from now on.

It was stupid after everything to fall so quickly back into his obsessive nature. He thought he would never love again. Never give someone that much power over him again. He would marry for power, and to someone who had no sway over him at all.

Yet when he saw you eating soup for the millionth time in the nurses den, he wished for nothing more than to give you every luxury life had to offer. You saved his life. You were kind to him, when all he had ever known was being of use to someone.

He would get back to the Capitol, Hoff had promised him that district 2 was still on the cards. All he had to do was get better, and he could complete officer training, get back to the Capitol, and send for you there.

Without school in the way, he could get a good job. Plinth had managed to get Coriolanus’ academy diploma. That still had use, even with his time as a peacekeeper.

He would get the Snow apartment back. It might be crowded, and run down, but he would slowly fix that. He figured you wouldn’t mind so long as he was working towards a better future.

He would daydream of a better future for you both, while he waited to see you. Not only was he given another chance, he was given motivation to take it.

Why would you want a low Peacekeeper for a husband? You were surrounded by them all day. What good were they to you? How would they take care of you, and provide all that you need.

Even on an officer's wage, it would be a struggle. He still had to send home money. Even as an officer he would be no good to you. He had to get home, and rise to the top.

But, he was going to miss you in doing so. He faked being hurt just a little bit longer than necessary. He would have to go soon, but two extra weeks of your attention wouldn’t derail his plans too much.

You worked mostly night shifts which distributed Coriolanus sleep. But it worked in his favor too. Rarely was anyone else awake. It could just be the two of you

He thought you liked it too. You would smile when you saw him awake.

He found himself smiling back on reflex.

“Do you sleep, Mr Snow?” you tease him.

“Not when you’re around”, he admits.

His words still you. It’s clear you feel uncomfortable that he said it. Coriolanus wished he could disappear.

“Is your arm giving you pain again?” you ask. He takes the opportunity for the dismissal.

“Ah-Yes”, he deflects.

You turn up his pain relief, and unwrap his bandage to take a look.

Coriolanus set his record for two wrong things said in a row. He was always cool, and calculated. You had to be to survive in the Capitol. Honey-tongued he was called, but now he was acting like a fool.

He didn’t want the extra pain relief that would make him tired, and he definitely didn’t want you to look at his wound that was yellow and pusy.

It didn’t irk you like he suspected that it would have, but still he tried to yank his arm away and hide it under the blanket.

You catch his hand with yours to keep his arm still as you inspect it. He suddenly felt very hot as you held his hand on the bed, while you looked put together and focused like always.

“Yellow bellies have the most painful bite of any snake in the district. I am surprised you complain so little”.

You jerk your hand from his, causing his fingers to curl. He keeps his fingers tight against his palm which aggravates the sore muscles on his bitten arm.

Taking a bottle from his nightstand, and dapping it into a medical cloth, you turn your focus back on him.

“I am just going to clean it. It might hurt a little”.

The first dap felt like acid on his arm. He grits his teeth from the pain.

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself. How long have you been a peacekeeper for?”.

You were trying to distract him. He picked up on it easily. He should have felt like a child, but he felt thrilled at the opportunity to talk to you about something other than his arm.

“Not long. I am going to Officer training in two, and then I’ll make my way back to the Capitol”.

“Oh the Capitol? You aren’t a transfer from another district”, you observe as you tap his yellow, and flaky skin with your rag.

“Do you know the Campbells?”, you ask.

He did. He was surprised that you did.

“We were neighbors, before the war” you explain.

“You’re from the Capitol?” he asks.

“I was. The war took both my parents. After that there was nothing left for me there”.

There was no emotion as you said it. No hidden anguish at all you had lost.

“I am sorry that happened to you”, he offered.

“Don’t be. Plenty of orphans due to the war. I am grateful that the medic school took me. But the Campbells had this little white dog that I used to love. I always wondered if it survived”.

Coriolanus knew that the dog was long gone. The Campbells had eaten it when supplies were cut off to the Capitol. They tried to sell its fur to Grandma’am.

He didn’t want to disappoint you with the news, so a lie fell off his tongue.

“Yes, it did. Mrs Campbell carries it everywhere with her”.

You smile and he is glad he chose to lie.

“My parents died in the war too. I have my grandmother, and cousin waiting for me to get back to the Capitol’’.

“I hope you get there, Mr Snow”, you say as you wrap his arm back up.

“Would you come with me?”, he asks.

Your pause made him worry that you were going to laugh at him, but instead you looked shyly up and smiled.

“This is my home. I am happy here’, you state.

“The Capitol would be better than here. I could give you the life you deserve”.

“The Capitol is not for me”, you deflect.

He felt angry at your resistance. Did you not think he could look after you? Did you not trust that he would not remain a peacekeeper all his days.

“So that’s a no. You wouldn’t come with me”, he determines.

It should have been disheartening. He should have left the idea alone there, but if anything it was a challenge. A call for action. Motivation to leave the hospital and become the man you would leave the district for.

“That’s a no,” you agree, “But when you get to the Capitol, I want you to give Mrs Campbell's dog a pat for me.”

The dog is dead, he wanted to say. You had hurt him, so he wanted to hurt you, but cool, and calculated is how he survived, and it’s how he would get everything he is after.

“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he barters.

You look surprised he said it. Unsure at first, before your lips turned into a sly smile.

Bending down, he thinks you are about to accept his offer. He parts his lips slightly for you, bringing his head towards yours slowly.

His heart pounds in his chest. If his arm wasn’t so sore he would reach out for your face.

He remembers the anticipation of Lucy-grays first kiss. It was a dizzing feeling that he hated.

He swears he feels your lips graze his but you duck your head away and kiss both his cheeks quickly.

“You can tell Mrs Campbell I said hi too”, you giggle.

“Was that amusing for you?”, he asks.

You nod your head with a grin across your face.

“Goodnight, Mr Snow. I’ll see you for breakfast”.

Wasting no more time with him, you continue your work with other patients.

“Goodnight, nurse y/n.”

Coriolanus rests his head on the pillow as you disappear into the other side of the hospital.

He must have been a child the last time he couldn’t help but smile. All that had happened seemed like a lifetime ago, and not only a couple of weeks. He was a new person. Lucy-Gray had killed the boy, and raised the man.

Wouldn’t come to the Capitol with him? He would be the final decider of that. He smiled thinking about the future ahead of him.

The news of his discharge did not bring him the pleasure he was expecting.

Who knew how long officer training would take. It could be years before he got back to the Capitol and that was only when his journey began. He was sure he would not forget you, but would time cause you to forget him.

His fellow Peacekeepers wished him well as he packed his truck up. Commander Hoff had signed him out this morning, but you weren’t there to say goodbye.

He couldn’t let you forget him.

He owed you his life, he had a debt to pay.

Everyone told him how happy he should be. To get out of 12, but you were in 12. Surrounded by young men with little brains but big muscles.

How lonely could he expect you to get before you found warmth in the arms of a soldier.

He tosses in his uncomfortable bed. In the morning he would be sent

miles away. Could he trust you to assume his love? No. He had to tell you. Had to assure you that he was coming back.

Tonight you did night shift. He had to tell you to wait for him.

He leaps out of his bunk, pulling on his cardigan before sneaking out of the bunks.

If a commanding officer caught him outside after lights out, the punishment was a night in the compound jail. He wouldn’t be released until late morning and would miss his train.

He is quick as he moves through the darkness. Only stopping to hide when night staff were approaching. He made it safely to the nurses door.

It was late. Night guard focused on the boundaries so Coriolanus felt safe to approach the door to the nurses den despite the light illuminating the door.

He knocks on the entry, and you open it shortly after. Unsuspecting, and untroubled.

“Mr Snow,” you smile at him, causing him to unknowingly smile back.

“Is something wrong?”, you step aside to allow him in out of the cold. He closes the door behind him, and feels secure being trapped in the room with you.

“Yes-No”, he wasn’t sure where to begin.

“Your arm?” you guessed.

“I am going to officer training tomorrow”, he states.

You smile wide at him again, but this time no smile on his lips curled back. He could tell you had not realized your stake in this.

“Congratulations.’’ you move past him to place a clip bored back on the shelf behind him, “I am happy for you.”

“Are you?” he asks.

“Of course. I remember you telling me your plans to reach the Capitol. Officer training is a good stepping stone”.

He grabs your arm to turn you towards him.

“I don’t want you to forget me”.

You looked unsettled, but made no attempt to break away.

“Of course not”, you answer.

“I don’t want you to think I’ll forget you either. I’ll send for you as soon as I can”.

Your face twists, and you slightly attempt to raise your arm out of his hold.

“Mr Snow, I am afraid you are confused. Maybe you should go back to your bunk”.

He uses his grip on your arm to shake you slightly.

“Don’t speak to me like that”, he requests. He wasn’t one of your patients.

“I told you, I have no interest in returning to the Capitol”. Your voice had changed from your usual sweet tone. It carried a hint of irritation, and strong determination.

You try to tug your arm back from him but it was too tight,

“I have an interest in you returning to the Capitol”.

You look past him to the door. It causes great irritation for Coriolanus. Who wanted all of your focus.

With his hold on your arm he pushes you back into the wall and kisses you. His lips are hard against yours. His eyes are closed but yours remain open from the shock.

You struggle against his kiss, but his grip was tight on your jaw and his lips pressed unmercifully against yours.

He was the one to break the kiss, leaving you breathless and shrunk against the wall.

“I need you to tell me you’ll wait for me”, he demands.

“Mr Snow, I-”.

He brings you forward to slam you back into the wall as punishment for your hesitation.

“Say it”.

Your hands come up in defense between you.

“I am sorry if I misled you”.

“Misled me? You saved my life”

“It’s normal for patients to feel this way after a traumatic experience. Your body has been through a lot of shock, wait for it to heal”.

“Say it. Say the words, Coriolanus Snow, I am yours, and I’ll wait for you”.

You look out the window to the sleeping patients. Even if one woke and saw you, most of them were too sick to even get out of bed.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me”, he demands. The hands that held you in place moved up to your neck

“Okay” you agreed quickly before he started to apply pressure.

“Say it”, he declared.

“I’ll wait for you”. You say but it doesn’t satisfy him.

“The whole thing”, he directs.

“Coriolanus, I am yours and I’ll wait, okay?”.

With his hands still on your neck he kisses you once more. You make no attempt to stop him as you place your hands on arms.

He pulls back with a boyish smile on his lips.

“I love you”, he states.

You pull his hands away from your throat and keep them still between your hands.

“You must go back to bed now. You have a big day ahead of you. You need your rest for it”, you push him away slightly as you spoke, hoping it would be enough to redirect him.

He removes his hands from you completely with a smile.

He knew you were right. He needed to arrive his best tomorrow. Show district 2 that he wouldn’t be there for very long.

“I’ll send for you as soon as I can”, he promised.

You nod your head enthusiastically, pushing firmly on his arm to the exit.

His feet shuffle on the floor as he slowly walks to the door.

He stops just as his foot hits the cold air from the open door. It felt like you had run into a brick wall as you knocked against him.

“I promise y/n, I’ll take care of you”, he vows.

He comes in for a kiss again. His hand found its way to the side of your face to pull you in, and his lips pressed hard against yours.

You yank yourself away and push on him to retreat back to his bunk.

“Go” you whisper and he does.

You watch as he runs back into the buildings and under cover of the darkness.

Your shaky hands turn the lock of the door as he disappears from sight.

The next morning,as soon as he wakes he heads to the medical facility to say goodbye to you. He skips breakfast to do so.

You weren’t there, and he had no clue where the nurse quarters were kept. He had no time to find out, his train would leave soon.

He arrived at the train station disheartened that he couldn’t see you one last time. You must have been greatly upset at his departure. A goodbye must have been too much.

He pictured you crying in your bed, and his heart pulled to think of you in such a state because of him. He would write as soon as he landed in district 2, never mind the cost.

It was a delight when Commander Hoff spoke of a change of plans. Dr Gaul had requested your presence, Hoff said.

His luck had finally turned. He was back in the Capitol. Back where he was supposed to be in a high position of power and money to burn.

It was too soon to bring you back. The ground beneath him could still turn to quick sand under his feet. He thought of you often, every second that he had spare. He worried that you were angry with him. It had been too long since he had talked to you. He has been so busy settling in, and flaunting his new success that he didn’t have time to sit down to write. The few times he tried to squeeze in on the car ride, or while waiting for a meeting, his hands would shake too much.

He felt stupid. A simple letter should not make his hands shake. On the way back from the lake, he had promised himself that he would never allow love to make him weak again. Now he is worried about your feelings towards him.

Finally he decided that enough was enough. He rises from his bed after tossing nearly the whole night through, and enters his study.

The pen felt heavy in his hand as he sat. He wasn’t sure what to say, or where to start.

He shakes the pen in his hand. Enough was enough. He would be careful how much you swayed his emotions.

‘Dear Nurse Y/n,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. ‘

He strikes his pen through the words, before crumpling up the paper and throwing it away. So formal.

‘Dear Y/n,

My plans to reach the Capitol have been expedited. I am now working under Dr Gaul in the war department. We have plans to run for senate.

I have not forgotten my promise that I would send for you. ‘

His pen stills. With everything going on, he wasn’t sure that now was the best time to bring you. Tigres had limited contact. He was working until late at night. Nearly all his money went to the run for senate.

Once he wins things would be different. He would send for you then. Until then, he wanted you to have a piece of him. A token of his promise.

He picks up his old peacekeeper dog tags from his desk drawer. It felt like a collar in his hands.

He tosses them into the envelope and continues writing his letter to you.

‘I have enclosed my dog days. I wish for you to wear them while I am away. A symbol of my love. We will not be parted for too long. Take care of yourself.

Yours,

C.Snow’

Coriolanus writes to you every evening before bed, but no letter is ever returned. He didn’t mind, he was sure that it was because you missed him too much. Writing would cause you pain, and that’s the last thing he wanted to cause, even if a reply was all he wanted.

He would write mundane things. What he did that day, how much he missed you, how his election for senator was going.

It was going well. He won voters easily. But the run kept him busy, with little time and energy left to write to you. He worried that you would be upset with him. Sometimes all he could manage to write was, ‘I love you. I am tired.’

The gifts he would send were returned. Every letter he would assure you that he was working towards bringing you here. Begged you not to be mad at him.

But you would not accept his telephone calls and your presents piled at his feet.

It had been nearly six months since he left district 12. Six months of not seeing you. Not hearing from you. It drove him mad.

He called you a spiteful woman in one of his late night letters after a fundraising gala.

The next letter that arrived the same day apologized. You were not a spiteful woman. He was a stupid man. You had every right to be angry with him. He is taking too long. He begged for your forgiveness and reminded you of his love.

You threw the letters in the bin and clocked on for your shift. The days were longer now that you don’t talk to the patients.

Coriolanus sits in his office after a long day. He wanted nothing more than to go home and have you there. Ready to care for him like you did at the hospital.

He twirls the pen between his fingers. The other hand played with the coins he planned to give you.

He wished you would reply to him. A single sentence would be enough to quench his thirst.

Begging for a letter would seem desperate. With a beginning in mind he set his pen to paper.

‘Dear Y/n,

I hope to hear from you that you have been well. ‘

Yes, good. Set the expectation of a reply.

‘Please, let me know if there is anything I can do to ease any discomfort. I have been well. Apologies for the delay in writing to you. I have been busy preparing to run for senator. With the support I have managed to gather I believe victory is set. You’ll be a senator's wife upon returning to the Capitol. As soon as I win, and it is safe, I will send for you. I haven’t forgotten you.

I have missed you terribly, and think of you often.

I hope to be reunited soon.

Yours,

C.Snow.’

Nothing but the money he sent was returned.

It sent him into a fit of rage. Papers were thrown off his desk. Decorative ornaments were thrown across the room and into walls.

He decided that no more letters were going to be sent unless he could tell you the news you have been waiting for.

He worked harder than ever. No longer playing fair. He cut corners where he could. Relied on money, rather than charm. He used to be opposed to the use of poison. Told Dr Gaul that he would win the senate seat through his wit, but time was passing too quickly. Coriolanus grew impatient. A nasty rumor about what he was doing spread around the Capitol, but he quickly shut it down.

It paid off with a landslide victory. He hadn’t just won his entry to the presidency. He had won you.

Surely, you could no longer be mad at him with such an impressive victory. He had his assistant organize a train out of district 12 for you.

With it in his hand he sat in his office chair and penned you a letter still dressed in his uncomfortable formal attire.

‘Dearest,

You may of heard the news of my win last night.

I have attached a train ticket out of 12. It leaves next monday at noon. Don’t miss it.

Forever yours,

C.Snow. ‘

With no reply back, Coriolanus was hopeful that he would see you on the train. He arrived too early to collect you, and spent the hour waiting by pacing the platform with the dying rose.

When it finally pulled up, he could hardly hide his excitement. It had felt like years without seeing you. He sent you beautiful green luggage set to back what you wanted, and a new dress to arrive in.

He waits for you to arrive out of the first class carriage but it emptied without sight of you. He continued down, weaving through the people down to the luggage carriage. Maybe you had gotten off the train while he was distracted.

The green set of luggage he had sent you was being carried off the train. He rushed to the carriage to greet you, but only a working man was there.

“Where’s the girl who owns this luggage?”, he demanded.

“No girl, sir. Only the luggage and the ticket”, replied the man.

The rose dropped from his hand. It felt as if the venom from the snake had begun to pulse through his body again.

He rushes back to his office where he hastily grabs a piece of paper, and pen.

His pen digs a hole into the paper from where he pressed down, but through his anger no words could be formed.

After everything you would not come. You were stubborn like Lucy-gray. Didn’t know when to quit. He would have to change that about you when you became a senate's wife.

He crumples up the letter and throws it in the bin. There would be no warning for you.

The next week he arrived back in district 12. It was a surprise to the district which meant it was a surprise to you.

A trip as a new senate leader to ensure the medical facilities were up to standard, he had told the Commander.

The new Commander of district 12 was chuffed with a visit from the Capitol. It proved difficult to be left alone at the hospital. Coriolanus’s eyes the small hospital he managed to push his way too.

The Commander was too loud. He would take the element of surprise away. It would give you a chance to escape, and Coriolanus would spend hours searching the compound for you.

He wanted to wrap his hands around the new Commander's throat. Coriolanus despised Hoff during his peacekeeper days. But at least Hoff knew the importance of composure. This man nearly leaped into Coriolanus' arms.

A lie of a headache landed Coriolanus in the doctor's den. It was a bigger, self-contained room than the nurses' den. It was situated at the very back of the hospital, away from the noise and eyes of others. It made it a perfect place to bring you.

“There was a nurse”, Coriolanus spoke as he took a seat at the table, “back in my old peacekeeping days. Nurse Y/N, I think? Could you send for her? I’d like to see a familiar face”.

“Of course, Senator Snow. I’ll send her, and a doctor right along”. The Commander turns to leave. Panic and annoyance rises through Coriolanus.

“Just her”, Coriolanus said, a little too sharply. He takes a breath to regain himself before directing the Commander once more.

“And Commander, take two of my peacekeepers to escort her back. You’re a busy man, and they will want to do their security measures anyway”.

The Commander nods back before leaving the room.

Coriolanus lets out a shaky breath, running his fingers through his hair to smooth the curls back. After all this time he was going to see you again. He would be able to hold you, he was sure.

How would you greet him? Should he wait for you to set the tone? See your reaction and base his off that. He wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself from touching you if you were within arms distance.

He sat back down behind the table. It would give him an excuse so you would be forced to make first contact.

His finger locks with his curls. He should have got his hair professionally done, but he was in such a hurry to get here to you. Instead he focuses on straightening his suit. It was expensive and well made. It should impress you, but not if it was crumpled.

His pocket bore a hole with the present he had brought for you. A lovely pair of diamond dangle earrings.

He twisted the box around in his fingers, and took another deep breath. He hoped that upon seeing him your anger would disappear.

Maybe it was all a test. You wanted him to come back. To put on a show for your friends here. The prince took the princess away to live happily ever after.

The prince brought a nice pair of earrings with him. Surely, you could forgive him for his delay. He couldn’t bear your anger.

His anxiety was matched with the ticking of his wrist watch. What could be taking so long? He wonders. Were you also readying yourself for him? Didn’t you know that you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on? It didn’t matter to him if your face was dirty, or your eyes carried sleep. Your heart blinded him to mere appearances. It was your soul he loved, and your soul he would have.

“Hello, dearest” he greets with a soft smile.

You slam the door closed behind you, shutting the Peacekeepers out.

“What are you doing here?” you seeth.

Coriolanus pockets the box once more. He would give it to you when you would appreciate them more.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”, he pours the pot that was given to him into the single teacup provided.

“I have work to do. What do you want?”, you state.

“I just want to talk. Sit please”. He gets up to show his full height. Sometimes he swore you forgot the noticeable size difference when you talked.

He gestures to the chair across the small table. He places the cup in front of you as you sit, before returning to his seat across from you.

“How have you been?”, he asks casually.

“You want to talk about my health?”, you spat back at him.

“You never responded to my letters”.

“I told you to stop sending them to me”.

“No”, Coriolanus rejects, “I never heard anything from you”.

It was a sore point for him that swelled a lot of the emotions he had pushed down.

“If I didn’t have tabs on you, I would have thought you were dead”, he let slip.

His eyes closed in frustration as he said it. Just your presence made him lose his composure. At least with you, he knew his secrets were safe.

“You were keeping tabs on me?”, you muttered in disbelief.

“As I said, I thought you could be dead. I was just making sure you were safe. I wasn’t sure my letters or presents were even reaching you”, he reasons. He leans his hand across the table, wanting so badly to touch you.

“What are you doing here?”, you ask again.

“I’ve come to take you home. Back to the Capitol”.

You did not look joyed at the news like you should have.

“District 12 is my home”, you accounce.

He pulls himself back from across the table. A harsher approach would be needed, so he squares his shoulders, and sits up as tall as he can. His face hardenings, and he feels a scowl edge across his face.

“You are happy here?”.

Flashes of the forest cross his mind. The endless wandering. The dull ache of thinking that he had failed his father. The betrayal.

“Yes”, you answer.

Coriolaus trains his eyes on the teapot, no longer able to look at you with such hate.

“That’s a shame”, he states.

“Shame?” You question.

“I didn’t come here to leave without you”.

“Mr snow-“

He sighs deeply, leaning on the table

“Coriolaus, please”, he begs.

You suddenly stand up, your chair falling back at movement.

“Coriolanus, get out. Keep your letters to yourself, and never bother me again”.

Coriolaus doesn’t move, just stares at you from his chair as if you were the crazy one.

“Get out!” you scream at him.

His puzzled expression turns back to a neutral stare as he rises from his chair.

“Forgive me, nurse Y/N. I wasn’t aware of your indifference”.

His shoulders brush yours as he passes you to the door.

He had a plan B. He always had a plan B.

The next morning you were assigned to blood donation. A overhanging tent was placed near the front of the gates where districts, and fellow peacekeepers could donate for a few dollars.

You assisted a doctor in drawing, categorizing and storing the blood for use. You knew Coriolanus was still in the Compound. The Commander drove him around, showing him new additions since he was a peacekeeper. Coriolanus could care less, but he caught two glimpses of you as the car passed.

You were always busy working like he remembered. The tent quieted as it reached late afternoon. By 4 o’clock, it was just you and one other doctor attending the tent.

You still had three districts in chairs as the blood was pumped out of them. Coriolanus waited behind a building until he could see only one district left.

The doctor looks to be packing up while you talk to the man in the chair. Coriolanus hated that you were speaking to him. He was nothing. Less than nothing; he was district. He didn’t deserve to be talking to you.

Coriolanus made his way over with a calm demeanor, despite how he was feeling.

The doctor noticed him before you did.

“Mr Snow. Can we help you, sir?”, the doctor asked.

“I’d like to donate blood for the cause”, he answered. He made a point not to look at you.

“Mr Snow, that’s quite generous, but unnecessary”, the man replied.

“Please, I insist”. Coriolanus rolled up the sleeve of his left arm to prepare himself for the chair.

The Doctor looks to you, before accepting Coriolanus’s request.

“Very well. If you follow me I’ll just check your levels, and then I’ll send you to my nurse”.

Coriolanus could hear your protest leaving your lips, so he spoke loud and clear over them.

“Excellent”, he exclaimed.

He follows the Doctor to a small metal table with two fold out chairs opposite each other. He could partially see you from where he sat. You were still attending to the man in the chair but the talking had stopped.

Coriolanus engages the doctor in idle small talk so you couldn’t ask to be excused. He could see that the district had grown uncomfortable in Coriolanus’s presence, and kept asking how long he had left.

By the time Coriolanus had his blood pressure taken, and a sample of his blood taken, the district was being sent away from the tent with a coin, and a loaf of bread you had given him. Just in time for Coriolanus' time in the chair.

You ignore him, talking only to the doctor.

“Sir-I”, you begin but Coriolanus started his sentence in the middle of yours.

“I admit I have other motives aside from my patriotism. Nurse, would you mind answering a few questions I have? I want to hear every voice before I implement new changes”.

After hearing the Doctors complaints about the resources and pay, Coriolanus knew that the promise of change was his way in.

“Yes! yes, of course. You must hear all sides” the Doctor boasts.

“Doctor, would you mind leaving us? I find people speak easier truths without an audience”.

“Of course. She’ll tell you. It’s like working in a shooting range with limited bullets”, the Doctor turns to walk away, causing you to call out for him, taking his coat in your hands to tug him back.

He yanks it away from your grip. “Tell him”, he demands, “You won’t be in trouble he wants to know”.

Coriolanus gently touches your elbow, taking it in his hand, but releasing it as the Doctor becomes more focused on you.

“I’ll be back in half-an-hour. Don’t take anymore patients, I want to be packed up before it gets dark”.

The Doctor walks away from the tent, and the half-an-hour time frame begins to tick.

You looked sour, and slightly worried. He hated to see it, especially by cause of him.

You don’t move as he shuffles past you. He wanted to ease you so you could speak like you did when you visited his bedside. It was easy conversation, and for maybe the first time in his life, he felt seen by somebody. He wanted it back, but first he had to regain his familiar status with you.

“We’re in broad daylight, surrounded by Peacekeepers who like you more than me. What could I do?”, Coriolanus states as he takes his seat in the chair.

“You are unbelievable”, you scold, but move to swap his pressure point with disinfectant.

“I am sorry. Truely”. It had been so long since you were so close. Mere inches between you and him. It felt so right, could you feel it too? He thought.

“I never meant to offend you. My actions never held any ill intent”, he consoles.

The needle dug harshly into his arm, but he showed no effect of it.

“Sending me gifts, keeping tabs on me. You think I have forgotten that night in the nurses den?”. You pull back away from him once the needle begins drawing blood. He hated to let you, but plan B involved good terms.

“I am sorry for all of it. I misinterpreted, and fed delusion from my own fantasies. I never meant you harm”, he shouted his words across the tent hoping no other person was listening.

“I hope you can forgive me, Y/N. You saved my life”.

He could see your common sense fighting with your mercy. Your hands fidgeted, and your eyes kept bouncing from what you were doing to Coriolanus.

“Let’s just forget it”, you mutter.

“What?” he calls, despite hearing fine.

His plan works and you move back over to him to speak again.

“I forgive you. Bridge over water” you offer.

The saying was ‘water over the bridge’, but he didn’t want to correct you. If you said it was bridge over water, he would accept it.

“Thank you”, he gushed. “Why don’t you sit beside me like old times? I really do want to hear your opinions on reform”.

To his delight you do take a seat and discuss the issues with the Compound hospital. The Doctor focused on the long hours, disproportionate pay to Capitol doctors, and few resources.

You were more patient focused. You talked about rehabilitative care outside of the hospital. The food offered to recovering patients was poor which he could attest to. Beds were too hard, you wanted patients to be able to reach home and talk to their families more, resources were an issue for you too but in a patient care angle rather than a hindrance to your innate ability to save the injured.

You spoke passionately. It was wonderful to listen to you, Coriolanus almost felt bad that he had pushed the call button to his head peacekeeper nearly five minutes ago. He would have let you talk for as long as you liked. Sat happily without a word so long as you were speaking to him, but the Doctor would be back soon, plan B had to be set into action.

Coriolanus could see the Commander, and a string of Peacekeepers with guns as they came from across the field. It was impressive timing given that the file would have been put in the Commanders hands only a few minutes ago.

He tried to focus on you as you talked. Revell in your attention, and joy before it was ripped away.

You turn as you hear the marching

“What is going on?” Coriolanus questioned with fake outrage.

“Senator Snow, it is with great displeasure that I must announce that we have been harboring a traitor to Panem”.

“Traitor?” you gasp.

The Commander throws the fabricated file on the desk for all to see.

You take a look at a picture that had been manipulated to look as if you were talking to a man in the forest. Others show you talking to the same man in the middle of town, and rooms you had never seen before. Copies of notes in your handwriting passed Compound information along, and spoke of recruiting injured patients.

“Victorn layman. A known rebel who has been successful in many of his attacks, no doubt thanks to you”, the Commander accuses.

“I have never seen that man before, I swear”, you turn to Coriolanus with pleading eyes

“The evidence doesn’t lie”, the Commander screeched, “Cuff her, and throw her in the gaol”.

“Wait” you implore as the heavy cuffs are secured around your wrists, “I am not a traitor”.

“Commander, please. There must be a mistake”, Coriolanus felt compelled to speak on your behalf.

“If there is, Mr Snow, the committee of justice will reach the bottom of it”, the Commander promises. If Coriolanus didn’t hold control over the situation, it would have worried him. The committee of justice was very rarely, if ever, interested in justice.

Two Peacekeepers take each of your arms to push you forward. Coriolanus has to clench his fist to stop himself from tearing you free from them.

You call for him to do something as they lead you to the jail, but he watches with the needle still in his arm. The Doctor returns to see you being taken away by the Peacekeepers.

Coriolanus rips the needle from his arm, leaving it dangling as he walks away from the Doctor full of questions.

Plan B would drive you into his arms, or the grave.

He lets your brew in the compound jail for a week as the committee of justice overlooks your case.

The day they declare you guilty and sentence you to death by hanging. He knew you were ready for the picking.

That night he visits you, sure that you would now see the light.

He enters the compound jail, and saw you on the floor in the furthest corner.

The jail cell was bare, apart from a toilet.

A long stretch of bars that enclosed a dirty, concrete floor. You were alone, per his request, but not even a blanket was given to you.

You look up at him as he enters. His hands were in the pocket of his coat. His shoulders were square, and his hair was neatly pushed back into small curls.

“Nurse Y/n. I hate to see you like this”.

You scramble up from the floor towards him as you speak.

“Senator Snow, I didn’t do it. I am not a traitor”, you explain.

“The evidence would suggest otherwise”

“It’s not true” you shake your head, the tears fall off your cheek, “I swear. I swear I have no idea what is going on.”

Seeing you like this felt right. He was back in the position of power. Like Lucy-Gray you were trapped where he could always find you. You depended on him for food and water.

He holds tightly onto the iron bars, and presses his face as close as he could,

“I could get you out’’.

Your face seemed hopeful. He hated to crush it moments later.

“If you reconsider my offer of the Capital”.

You rub your face with your hands. Your tears were yet to stop spilling.

“Why are you doing this?”, you sob.

“I don’t want to”. He pushes his whole body as close as he could to the bars, but you remain five feet away.

“I owe you my life. I just want to help.”

“I didn’t do it!”, you exclaim.

“Y/n, they are going to hang you for treason If you don’t accept my offer. Please. I just want to help”.

“I don’t-’ a sharp breath interrupts your sentence, “I have never- I don’t know that man.”

“It doesn’t matter. Come noon tomorrow, you’ll hang”.

“Please, don’t let them.”

You move to the other side of the bars from him. Your hand curled under the same bars, just under his hand.

“I won’t. You just have to say it”, he speaks softly and slowly, peering down at you, “Coriolanus Snow, I am yours”.

“You said I saved your life. It would make us even”.

Coriolanus shakes his head

‘’I can protect you only if you are mine. Say it’’, he demands.

You’re silent for a moment causing Coriolanus to worry that you would not accept his offer. Was he so bad that you would choose the noose over him?

“I don’t want to die”, you admit finally.

He reaches through the bars to your waist, pulling you as far as he could to him. You keep your hands tight around the metal.

“You saved my life, let me save yours. I just need to hear those five little words”.

“I’ll go back to the Capitol?”, you asked.

“Yes, with me. Far from the noose”.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and your hands tighten around the bars, but you nod your head.

“Coriolanus Snow”, he begins for you.

You take a big breath but finally say the words he had been longing to hear.

“Coriolanus Snow, I am yours”. You repeat.

He smiles, moving his hands from your waist up to your face so he could wipe away the tears.

He brings your face as close as he could to the bars and kisses you. The bars hindered his passion. His lips would only barely press against yours.

When he pulls away he keeps your face in his hands as he speaks.

“You’ll be okay. Peacekeepers will come get you early tomorrow morning, and take you to the train. I’ll meet you there, and we’ll leave, okay? We’ll go back to the Capitol to live the life we were supposed to live”, he promises.

“Tomorrow?”, you question, “no, you said you could get me out”.

You pull back out of his hold and he returns his hands to the bars.

“I can. But if I whisk you away under the cover of night, how will that look? Like a guilty person laying down for the right man? Tomorrow it will look like they are taking you back to the Capitol for further investigation. In the Capitol I can clear your name.’’

You go further away from him, centering yourself in your cell. He wanted to reach out and pull you back but you were too far out of his grasp.

“This is my home. These people are my family” you say softly.

“And look how quickly they have turned on you. If it wasn’t for me, they would watch you hang tomorrow.”

Your eyes fill up with tears again. He had hit a sore spot.

“Hey, I am sorry. Come here”.

His hands stretch through the bars for you but you don’t move from your spot.

The tears turn into a scolding look causing him to retract himself from the bars, feeling foolish once more.

He turns to leave, but being alone in the dark cell panicked you.

“Wait”, you call out. He turns to see you reaching through the bars for him, “Don’t leave me here. Please.”

Coriolanus returns back to the cage, taking your hands in his, and kissing them.

“You stayed by my bed. I’ll stay by your cell”.

“Coriolanus. Get me out please”, you beg. You couldn’t stand one more night in the cold cell.

“Tomorrow, my love”, he comforts.

Your hands felt like ice in his hold. He should have come the first night to make sure that you at least had a blanket and pillow. He hadn’t meant for such poor conditions. What if you got sick from the damp, cold cell.

He reaches out to your shoulders. They were cold to touch. His poor sweet girl was cold and hungry. Tomorrow neither of you would be ever again.

He takes off his jacket and passes it through the bars, over your shoulders.

“Lay down”, he requests “When you wake all of this will just be a bad dream”.

You do lie down on the ground, and Coriolanus follows.

He lays down outside of the cell, but puts his hand through to hold yours through the bar.

With his spare hand he rubs your back to provide warmth and comfort until you fall asleep.

He shivers on the floor without his jacket. But it mattered little to him.

You would go back to the Capitol with him tomorrow. From there he would rise from senator to President.

You slept easy next to him. The bars separating your body from his touch. He wanted to hold you. Not only for his own gratification, but to keep you warm through the night. You had become the object of his worry. He had thought that his school-boy anxiety left as he hardened into a man, but he had instead just focused it entirely on you.

He worried that you would get hypothermia from your week in jail. Then his worry took him to your teeth. When was the last time you had got them checked? It was doubtful that there was an adequate dentist at base. He had never heard of one. What about your iron, and calcium levels? Being part of the Capitol charge surely they would ensure you were fed properly. He remembered being amazed at the food given to the Peacekeepers but that was a low bar.

He would get you checked over by his doctor once you got home. Then he would take you out for something nice to eat. Maybe, you would want to watch a show, even if you wanted to go home and lay in bed with him that would be fine too.

He was so close to it all. After this feat, there was nothing stopping his way to the top. He would be president after a term as a senator. You would be first lady. Spend your days shopping, and organizing dinners.

He would pay you back for your kindness at his deathbed. He laughs quietly thinking that it was Lucy-Gray who showed him the path to you.

When you woke the next morning, Coriolanus and his jacket were gone. Instead, a Peacekeeper greeted you by yanking you up from the floor by your arm.

You stumbled as he cuffed you and pushed you forward out of the cell.

It was early morning, but most people were already up to see you being manhandled into a Peacekeeper van.

You had no way of blocking your face to hide your shame. The van had a thin fabric roof, and doors that shut waist height.

People stared as you passed them in the van. People who had known you since you were a little girl stood as you were whisked away as a traitor.

The Peacekeeper took you to the train station as promised where you were taken out of the van by a Capitol Peacekeeper who led you to the right carriage.

Coriolanus stood by the door waiting for you. His shoulders sagged upon seeing your tears. The Peacekeeper hands Coriolanus the keys to your cuffs, stating it was his decision to release you or not.

As soon as the Peacekeeper leaves, he rushes over to you to undo the cuffs.

“Just for appearances” he comments.

“They all looked at me like I was a traitor”, you sobbed.

“When we reach the Capitol we will clear your name”, He promises, coming back to stand in front of you.

“But i’ll never see them again to tell them the truth”.

He brings you into his shoulder to cease the sound of your wailing. He couldn’t see why it mattered so much if they thought you were a traitor. You were right, you would never see them again.

“It’s alright”, he comforts.

You wrap your arms around the back of his shoulders as you cry. After a minute or two Coriolanus could no longer take it. He hated the sound of you crying. He thought he could be a fierce husband, but now he was sure to fold every time you wanted something.

You had slowed enough that he could pull away slightly to look at you. Your eyes were swollen, your cheeks and nose were red. The way you sounded, your nose was blocked from your tears.

“They will know the truth. I’ll ensure it”, he vows. “But until then you’ll just have to settle for me knowing the truth”.

He takes another step away from you, reaching for the bedroom door.

“Me, and him”, he teases.

As the door opens a small, white puppy with a large pink bow around its neck bounces out.

You gasp as you bend down to pat the dog. It jumped up at you, running in circles and then jumping up to place its paws on your knees.

“He’s yours”, Coriolanus says, “You’ll have to name him”.

You wipe away your tears, but your smile is still sad. He would have to work harder to please you.

“He’s beautiful. Thank you”, your voice is small, and hoarse from the crying.

“And there’s a whole wardrobe, and jewelry for you if you want to take a shower”, he offers.

Another misstep from a man so calculated. You rise from the floor with an angry expression.

“I am lucky you were expecting me”, you mocked.

“If I hadn’t been you would be looking at the noose”, Coriolanus spat back.

It was too late to turn back now.

His comment silenced you, and Coriolanus took the opportunity to take your hand and lead you through the bedroom to the bathroom door.

“Come on. You’ll feel better after a shower. Take your time. I’ll wait out in the common area”, he said.

You don’t answer him as you enter the bathroom.

You take a long time to join him in the common room. He had ordered morning tea, and coffee. He felt too uneasy to eat the biscuits, and small sandwiches offered so they were still available for you, but the coffee had long gone cold before you re-entered his presence.

Your hair was dripping down the dress you had put on. There were no shoes on your feet, or jewelry hanging off you. He was glad you were comfortable, but you looked uncared for. Which was not the case.

Your little dog barked upon seeing you which made you smile and say hello. Coriolanus was glad that he decided against passing the dog to the attendants. At least the dog offered an ice breaker.

“Feel better?”, he asks. He stands as you move to sit in the booth.

“Yes, thank you”.

As you sit Coriolanus moves with you. Wedging you between him and the wall.

“Your hair is still wet”, he comments.

A thick napkin is used by him to press the water out the ends of your hair.

“I had no energy to dry it”, you admit.

“Yes, I am sure this has been a lot for you”, he agrees, “but it’s almost over. As soon as we reach the Capitol that’s the end of it”.

He moves the napkin to rub it against the top to absorb moisture. It leaves your hair messy, and frizzy. He tries to fix it, gently clawing his fingernails through to soothe the uncooperative hairs.

“There” he says, “good as new”.

The dog barks as he runs around the room, exploring. Coriolanus wanted to kick it out but he knew it would upset you.

“Are you hungry?”, he asks.

You shake your head ‘no’, and turn from him to look out the window.

He allows you your peace. The dog is too loud. He would have to get it trained, but for now it filled the awkward silence.

Looking for something to do, he straightens the table fixtures. Making sure everything was perfectly in its place.

You lean against the glass instead of on him, which annoyed Coriolanus.

The only time you broke stature was when Coriolanus picked up the dog and placed him in between the seat. He didn’t like it there after he got bored with you and whined to be put down.

Besides that you sat and stared out the window until it became night. He couldn’t get you to eat anything. You had drunk some water which made him worry less, but you wouldn’t speak to him, and he didn’t want to come across needy by constantly talking to you with no response.

He had a speech to write for an upcoming bill proposal which engaged him throughout the day, but night fell and he was ready to connect with you.

He didn’t ask as he tugged you from your seat, and back to the bedroom. You didn’t fight him as he led. Coriolanus kicks the door shut on the yapping dog, hoping it would go to sleep.

You turn to open the door to the dog, but he catches your arms to continue the way into the bedroom closest.

“Given that there are not too many leisurely trips to the districts there is only one suitable bed, so we’ll have to share”, he encourages.

He passes you a nice pair of pajamas to change into which you accept.

‘And when we reach the Capitol. What will be your excuse then?”.

He couldn’t tell if you meant it in a criticizing way. Your voice was light as if it was a joke, but even toned enough to make him consider it as a genuine question.

He tried to appease both possible situations with a humorous answer.

“Bed bugs”.

It earns a scoff in a light hearted manner. His school-boy smile returned to his face like it did when you used to sit by his bed and talk during the night.

You hum before you disappear into the bathroom to change. The smile is still on Coriolanus’s face as he dresses for bed.

He had his joy back after it being ripped from his hands since the dark days.

When you come back out you are silent once more. Your expression had changed to one of deep and unpleasant contemplation.

“Are you okay?”, he asks.

You brush past him without an answer to the door. You find it’s locked but you try and force it open. The force of the door causes the dog to begin his nonsense again.

“What are you doing?” he questions.

You looked dazed as he neared you. He gently takes your elbow and leads you back to the bed.

He lets go of you to toss the pillows around but speaks to keep you focused.

“You nearly died today. You must be feeling all sorts of emotions”.

He remembered how it felt to knock on death's door. He almost feels his scar burn under your watchful gaze.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”, you whisper.

“Pardon?”. He almost coaks upon hearing it. He knew you would figure it out with some distance, but he had planned for you to already be in love. Maybe with a child or two.

“It was you. Who planted that evidence to get me to come with you”, you state it this time round as a fact instead of a question. It made Coriolanus sweat.

“How dare you” he acts astonished, “ After everything I have done for you. How could you suggest that?”.

Something in you registers. You take a look around at the train that raced you to the Capitol. A place you became a stranger to long ago, and a place where he held all the power. There was no getting off this train. Your fate had been sealed.

You smile at him lightly, “I don’t know. I am sorry. Forget it”, you brush off, “Bridge over water”.

He pulls back the covers as he repeats your sentiment “Bridge over water”.

#coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #dead dove do not eat #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the nurse

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optimisticbirdwitch · 5 months ago

Text

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

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