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#The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
malice-kingdom · 2 days
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An army of Ghosts.
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chrissymunsons · 3 days
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incorrect snowbairdplinth quotes ❄️ [ 3 / ? ]
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yourhighness6 · 3 days
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Somthing about the way Snow always despised chaos above all else and was killed not in a clean, controlled execution but in the very definition of chaos: a wild, violent rush of an unnamed crowd. Poetic justice.
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zeglythism · 3 days
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moodboard: lucy gray baird (in the capitol)
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coryosmin · 1 day
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imagine sejanus running his fingers along your spine while he reads his book. you’re curled up to him, listening to the smooth rumble of his voice as he reads the delicate words off the pages. and eventually, the soothing sound lures you to sleep as you rest your head on his shoulder. sejanus stops when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, taking a moment to just look at you and study your face before pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead. and the two of you would stay like that for a while until you wake up briefly to sejanus carrying you to the bedroom and tucking you in gently before crawling into bed himself, holding you closely to him.
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devsissues · 3 days
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The gang's all finished!
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planning to open my shop with the first few dolls along with my Friday update!
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mockingjaysnakes · 2 days
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their outfits.
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geminibsworld · 12 hours
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ON MY BIRTHDAY??? I HAVE TO WATCH TOM DIE ON MY BIRTHDAY????
OH MY FUCKING GOD
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facetthefashionking · 12 hours
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*drives into your ankles*
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Could I drive to the Covey with you😞
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captainremmington-13 · 15 hours
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A Lady Made of Snow
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DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.
SUMMARY: Bellova becomes Mrs. Snow.
⚠️Warnings⚠️: THIS IS A VERY DARK CHAPTER. It contains violence, verbal/physical abuse/domestic violence, mention of death and suicide, misogyny, Coriolanus being horrible, HEAVY ALLUSIONS TO SEX, swearing
A/n: This was painful to write🥲
𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫
No matter what she did, Bellova couldn’t stop the silent screams that echoed throughout her mind.
This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. 
She’d fantasized about it as a little girl, laying in her bed wide awake when she was supposed to be sleeping, thinking about a beautiful, luxurious wedding held in her honor. How she’d carefully pick her bridal party, and go dress shopping with them, and pick out a gorgeous white gown to walk down the aisle in. How she’d meticulously write out her passionate vows, and how she’d recite them to her future husband while the entire audience struggled to hold back tears of joy. Perhaps she would shed a tear or two, but her blinding smile would distract from that. After kissing her groom, a large reception filled to the brim with all of her favorite foods and drinks would be held. She’d have the first dance with her new husband, and then take the dance floor with her beloved father, who would undoubtedly be hesitant to give her away. But he would, because he loved her, and wanted her to be happy. 
As she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror of her dressing room, she knew that all of those dreams would never be fulfilled. 
Half of them had already been crushed. 
She had no bridal party. She didn’t get to choose her wedding dress. Her vows were generic and lacked any honesty. If she shed any tears while reciting them, they would be ones of despair. The kiss she shared with her husband would be for show, not because he really loved her. The reception and the first dance would be for the cameras and newspapers only. 
And there would be no father-daughter dance.
Her husband-to-be had ensured that. 
“You’re all set, miss,” the makeup artist said, setting down the brush that had been dusting powder across Bellova’s cheeks. “Do you feel comfortable in your gown? If you need anything adjusted, please let us know now. The ceremony will be quite long, and it will be less enjoyable if you are in any kind of pain.”
‘I am,’ the repressed voice inside of her wanted to scream. ‘I have been for almost a whole year.‘ 
Instead, she shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you. I require no adjustments.” 
Bellova looked at her reflection once more, and an invisible string forced her lips to smile.
The white silk wedding dress was a custom design, made specifically for her and only her to wear. The neckline, which was an off-the-shoulder cut, was lined with faux white roses. They were itchy, and in Bellova’s opinion, they looked extremely tacky. They were beautiful, but she knew they were only there to remind her who she belonged to. The dress laced up in the back, giving her waist a “snatching” effect. If it was tightened just a centimeter more, she was sure it would crack her ribs. 
Besides the roses, she hated the ridiculously large bow at the bottom of the corset laces the most. It looked far too girlish for a grown woman. 
But she had no say in the making of the dress. And she knew by now that protesting would only make her miserable life worse.
Her mind was dragged through hell and back every moment she was awake. Most of the time, she was morphed into a completely new person. She felt like a puppet being controlled by the devil himself, doing and saying things against her will. She only came out of this trance-like state at night, when the curse Dr. Gaul had planted on her was lifted temporarily. She would unleash her rage as quickly and violently as she could, throwing things and screaming profanities. Her captor had to make her bedroom soundproof, because her piercing cries would alarm the staff of the Reginelle estate. 
One night, Enolio had burst into her room after hearing a loud bang and a scream. Bellova had thrown a punch at her fiancé but missed, giving him an opportunity to lift her up and slam her to the ground.
The next morning, when she awoke, she was back under the influence of the serum. A small voice suppressed deep in her brain screamed for her to ask what had happened to the butler, but she couldn’t get the words out. It was as if an invisible gag was stuffed into her mouth.
She never saw Enolio again. 
“Could you give me a moment alone, please?” Bellova said to the makeup artist. “I’ll make my way to my designated place in a moment so the ceremony can begin.” The woman nodded, and left the room promptly. 
As soon as she was alone, the tears that had been threatening to spill over for the three hours it took to prepare for the wedding finally came. She sunk down to the floor, shaking like a leaf.
It took all of her mental strength to fight against the hypnotizing drugs that had infected her brain. They threatened to take away any ounce of autonomy she had over herself, and if she allowed that to happen, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to regain it. It was if a thick fog had settled over her mind, and she had to constantly strain her eyes to see through it. If she let her guard down, she’d start believing she was truly the submissive girlfriend of the Snow heir.
She had to get out of here. By tying the knot, she’d be tying herself to him forever. That would mean that he won. That she had given up, and accepted her fate as his wife slave. 
She longed to make a run for it, escaping the venue and heading for the Capitol border. But where would she go? She had nobody to seek shelter with. She wouldn’t make it far, anyway. Her dress was heavy and long, greatly restricting her ability to move. Peacekeepers or one of the guests would catch her before she got very far. 
And after her fiancé got through with her, she’d be utterly, completely doomed. 
She’d rather die by her own hand than his. 
But suicide would mean that he had won. And she’d suffered for so long that she couldn’t bear to give him that. 
No, she would live on. She would play along, for the sake of her own survival. 
And when the perfect opportunity arose, she would strike. She would make him regret ruining her life and her future. She would laugh as he pleaded for mercy, and then bring him immeasurable pain.
But at the moment, she had a wedding to attend. Her wedding.
Bellova sighed, plastering a smile on her dolled-up face. 
It was time for her to officially become Mrs. Coriolanus Snow. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bellova’s head spun. 
Her dress was feeling more like a straight jacket every minute. Her high heels were digging into her Achilles, and she was sure they had broken the skin. Between that with the never-ending turmoil inside of her mind, she felt like she was going to faint.
She gasped for air as subtly as she could, as not to alert the hundreds of guests attending the reception. She didn’t want to cause a fuss and pay the consequences in private. 
After all, she knew that Coriolanus wouldn’t hesitated to “discipline” her. He’d made that very clear during the past several month.
Her husband was seated mere inches from her, sipping a glass of champagne. A silver ring glistened on his left hand. It had been custom made, and matched Bellova’s perfectly. 
She looked down at her own wedding band. It was borderline obnoxious, but it was fitting for a family as pretentious as the Snows. Each of the stones was clear with a slight blue hue, and they were arranged to resemble a snowflake.
It was her another way for Coriolanus to declare her as his.
Bellova finished her glass of wine. It was her third of the night, and she was starting to feel extremely foggy. She knew it was not the smartest idea to become inebriated on her wedding night, but it helped ease the physical and mental pain. 
She kept her mouth sealed, only speaking to guests who approached the newly wedded  couple to congratulate them. Even then, she only said a few words, giving them a polite “thank you for coming”. She did her best to look elated. 
Part of her conscience, which had been overtaken by that wretched serum, truly was happy. It tried to convince her that she’d just tied the knot with the love of her life.
But deep down, she was fuming.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Coriolanus glance at his watch. It was nearing midnight, and most of the guests were beginning to retire to their homes. Soon, it would be time for them to leave as well. 
But they wouldn’t be going back to the Reginelle estate. No, they would be taking a limousine to District Four, where their honeymoon suite was waiting for them.
Bellova’s stomach churned unpleasantly. She knew all about what usually happened during the first night of married life. 
She knew she couldn’t resist Coriolanus without being tortured or drugged again. He’d just inject her with her nightly dose of the serum, and then she’d have little to no control over herself. 
Should she try to enjoy it? She’d be lying if she claimed she’d never fantasied about sleeping with Coriolanus before. 
But this wasn’t how she’d imagine it would be. Not in the slightest. 
In her daydreams during her Academy days, she had imagined it would take place once Coriolanus finally stopped bitching at her. He’d realize how perfect she was for him, and would beg her to be his girl. And when they were both ready, they’d take things to the most intimate level. 
But Bellova was fully aware that Coriolanus didn’t love her. If he did decide to sleep with her, it wouldn’t be out of love. It would be yet another of his acts of dominance, to reassure him that he was in control. 
Bellova looked down at her lap to avoid her husband’s gaze, her heart sinking deeper into her stomach by the second. 
Though she couldn’t see it, she could feel Coriolanus give her a cold, cruel smile. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If Bellova thought she was anxious before the  wedding, she had no idea what to call her current state.
Coriolanus had a vice-like grip on her left hand, and there was no indication that he’d release her anytime soon. This had started as soon as their driver announced that their destination was only ten minutes away.
He hadn’t spoken a word to her since they’d gotten in the limousine. Bellova had been slightly offended hurt by this. Shouldn’t a husband be happy to be in his wife’s company? 
‘Stop being stupid,’ the small voice whispered. ‘He doesn’t give a fuck about you, he’s not going to even pretend he cares while you’re in private.’
Bellova slumped against the back of the car seat. She was still dizzy from all of the alcohol she had consumed, but refused to fully let her guard down. 
Coriolanus could wreak unspeakable terrors on her if she stopped resisting. 
.
.
.
As soon as she was alone with Coriolanus were alone in their luxury oceanside suite, Bellova felt the serum start to wear off. 
Coriolanus picked up both of their bags and headed towards the bedroom. Bellova followed suit, metaphorically dragging her feet. He was still ignoring her, which forced a small pout into her lips. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that her beloved wasn’t paying her any attention. 
The bedroom was lavish, but not nearly as nice as her own. The king-sized bed had white silk sheets, and the walls were decorated with oil paintings depicting ocean scenery. There was a large balcony overlooking the sea, which held two plush lounge chairs and a small  glass table. Everything was so picturesque that it could’ve been straight out of a romance novel.
Alas, her life was anything but love story.
As soon as Coriolanus tossed his blazer in a hamper in the corner and began loosening his tie, Bellova felt her stomach constrict.
Was he actually going to fuck her?
Bile rose in her throat. She wasn’t a desperate little schoolgirl anymore, clinging to hopeless dreams. She was a victim, a victim of Coriolanus Snow’s unrelenting apathy. 
No. She wouldn’t let him have his way with her.
The searing pain in her temples told her that she was now in full control of herself. She had to act before she was dragged back under again.
Bellova kicked off her designer heels, not caring in the slightest if they broke, and prepared herself for yet another grueling fight.
But before she could lunge at her enemy, Coriolanus’s head snapped towards her, making her freeze on the spot.
His shirt was already halfway unbuttoned. This didn’t phase her, she’d seen him naked several times before, but purposefully chose to forget those moments. 
It was the hungry gaze in his eyes that made her blood turn to ice.
“You’re really going to do this now?” 
The nonchalance in his tone made Bellova want to scream.
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you going to fight like a rabid animal during the first night of our honeymoon?”
Bellova sneered at him. “A broken nose would match perfectly with your crimson tie, if I do say so myself.” 
Coriolanus laughed humorlessly. “Hilarious. Now get undressed.”
Bellova’s fists clenched instinctively. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had a stash of syringes full of that dreaded in his briefcase, she would have decked him in the jaw.
“No.”
Coriolanus rolled his pretty eyes, stepping towards her. She backed away, but her spine quickly hit the wall of the room. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Mrs. Snow. Though it’s not like you have much of a say, anyhow.”
The way Coriolanus had spat out her new title made her flinch. It sounded so wrong, being called Mrs. Snow instead of Miss Reginelle.
“I don’t want you, and you don’t want me. Therefore, we don’t need to do anything tonight. It’s simple, really.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m fucking stupid,” Coriolanus barked. “If we don’t sleep together, people will talk. It’ll look bad for both of us. The press will say-“
“That’s all you care about these days,” Bellova said harshly. “And you’re assuming that the press will somehow know whether or not we fuck.” 
The paranoia was evident in Coriolanus’s eyes. Clearly, this was a very important matter to him. Not because he actually wanted her, but because his shining reputation could be tarnished with rumors concerning their bedroom life. 
“If you stop being a bitch for once, maybe I’ll let you stay off of the serum while we’re in bed, and I’ll consider making this enjoyable for you.”
Bellova rolled her eyes. He sounded like such an asshole, it was a wonder how he didn’t realize it. Or perhaps he did, and just didn’t care.
“What will it be?” Coriolanus asked sharply. “I’m not going to stand around waiting for much longer.”
An eerie silence filled the bedroom as Bellova weighed her options. She could attack him and do as much damage as possible before he drugged her. Or she could give in just for one night, and give herself a break.
She swallowed, and steeled her nerves. She knew exactly what she was going to do. 
“Fuck this,” Coriolanus growled. His hand shot to her throat, squeezing so hard that Bellova could already feel the bruises forming. The familiar coldness of a needle poked at the skin on her neck, making her shudder wildly. 
She hated it, but she was afraid. 
“Please…” she croaked, clawing desperately at his arms. “Don’t do this…not again.”
A horrid scream escaped from her lips as Coriolanus inserted the syringe. She collapsed almost immediately, her face quickly becoming slick with salty tears. 
Coriolanus carelessly lifted her up by the arms and tossed her on the bed. Devoid of any passion or desire, he flipped her onto her stomach and started unlacing the corset of her reception gown. 
There was no gentleness in his touch.
There was only possessiveness and pure madness.
Bellova squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the pillow beneath her face becoming damp. The more skin Coriolanus revealed, the more disgusting she felt. 
As much as she wanted to kick, scream, cry, anything to get away from him, she knew it was useless. The serum was already consuming her, swallowing her true self whole.
By the time he finally got her dress off, she was completely gone.
.
.
.
Coriolanus sucked in a breath, his fingertips ghosting over his bride’s bare thigh. She was already asleep, her body exhausted from everything that had happened throughout the day. 
In their later Academy days, Coriolanus had briefly wondered about what Bellova was like in bed. There were quite a lot of rumors that circled around her regarding her sex life, but he knew most of them were fictitious. However, he knew she was no virgin. Bellova had admitted that at her seventeenth birthday party. 
However, technically, he had been virgin. He didn’t count what had happened in the alley behind the train station years ago.
Coriolanus stared up at the ceiling, replaying the lustful activities he’d just partaken in in his mind. 
It had felt…nice, he supposed. Bellova was pliant and sweet while he was on top of her, thanks to the serum. She had constantly begged for more, and initiated several kisses. He found the pleading quite annoying, and elected to ignore it. Still, she seemed to enjoy herself. He did as well, but found the power he could exert much more thrilling than any physical pleasure. 
Coriolanus pulled Bellova’s sleeping form closer to him. He shuddered at the contact of her bare body pressed against his. She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake. She sighed contentedly, and fell limp again.
Coriolanus smiled.
He would ensure that this was part of their nightly routine. 
And if Bellova didn’t like it? 
Too fucking bad.
✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ��˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊❆ ‧
TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @vxnilla-hxrddrugs, @mystargirl-interlude
Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! This chapter was truly heartbreaking to write. The next chapters won’t be this depressing, I promise. The next chapter will skip ahead to when Coriolanus is an office Gamemaker.
Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! (I had to add some of y’all to a comment instead becuz tumblr won’t let me tag more people for some reason☹️)
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chrissymunsons · 21 hours
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from The Poetry of Arab Women: A Contemporary Anthology; “Somnambulist” 🥀🕊️
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coryothesub · 3 days
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Can you imagine that Coryo gets turned on by being caressed or having his hair pulled?
Okay okay Coryo loves little caresses and getting his hair pulled it literally drives him crazy. Also this is gonna take place in the gym because I’m writing this like 20 minutes after I left the gym so here y’all go.
nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / softdom!reader
You loved seeing Coryo in his cute little gym attire. It wasn't so little in fact because he liked to be covered from head to toe wearing loose shorts over his jogging pants and a long sleeve gym shirt paired with loose fitting tank top.
The top part of his hair was gathered in a tiny half bun to prevent stray curls from falling on his forehead and that was your favorite part. Poor boy felt a good deal of self consciousness among all the hunky gym bros, but it seemed to disappear when he was with you. Mostly because you were simply eating him up with your eyes shamelessly turning the workout into an act of foreplay.
You watched him stretch before the warm up, his slim long limbs looking so fine while he was assuming rather suggestive positions right in front of you.
His face was all serious as he was always extremely focused. Oh you loved watching him in the gym. And he loved watching you.
But it was nearly impossible to only use your eyes. You just couldn't keep your hands to yourself while he was flexing his muscles and letting out pretty little groans here and there.
You walked right up to him as he was setting up the biceps curl machine and somehow you just found your hand on the small of his back and then it slowly traveled upwards sending warm shivers down his spine. 
Your fingers traced his broad, slim shoulders finally crawling their way up to his curls and tugging on them gently. 
Coryo gave you a slightly confused look before he noticed your flirty smile. The boy immediately realized what was happening. You had decided to turn this whole workout in a sweet little torture session and Coryo couldn't say he would exactly mind. In fact he was kinda happy about his decision to wear those loose shorts over his leggings because the feeling of your warm touch went straight to his cock.
You stood by him watching his biceps flexing as he did his arm routine. Your hand landed on his shoulder and you let your fingers slide down the strained muscle.
“You're so hot like this, baby boy,” he heard a barely audible whisper, immediately deciding to do a few more this time just to bask in your sheer lust as your hand traveled back up his arm in a gentle caress.
Your fingers found a stray curl sticking to his neck and you pulled at it causing him to let out a quiet whimper. It was so fun to play your little games in front of everyone yet making sure that no one would notice just how heated up you both were.
Your reaction to his arm routine encouraged him to do some pull ups and you of course offered your assistance, helping him to get back on the ground safely. There was no particular need for that but he didn't mind your arms gently hugging his waist and pressing your bodies together in a moment of pleasant friction. You bit your lip feeling that his cock was already so hard under all those layers of fabric.
You grabbed his perky ass while you two were walking to the free workout zone and he gave you a bratty little smirk knowing full well what he was doing to you. You felt wetness pooling up in your panties feeling ready to climb him like a tree right then and there.
“Patience is a virtue,” Coryo whispered to you before getting down on the mat to do some crunches.
You were holding his legs in place, running your hands up and down his thighs. Coryo tried to focus, letting out sharp exhales at each move, but you could recognize that lusty glimmer in his eyes. He just wanted to have you so bad and his eyes widened seeing you strategically placing your upper body on his knees so that he could stare right at your cleavage each time he lifted his shoulders from the floor.
You both were burning for each other when it finally got to the final stretching. Coryo asked you to help straighten his back and you didn't hesitate to pull at his curls harshly causing him to let out a little whimper. Coryo looked at you, his eyes full of longing and despair, you both just knew there was no way you’d be able to wait until getting home.
Luckily the sauna was empty and you pushed your hand under the waistband of his trunks while his long slender fingers pushed aside your bathing suit.
You pumped him frantically while he fingered your wet cunt squelching sounds filling the hot little room. You were both covering each other's mouths with your free hand, feeling both terrified and aroused by the very real possibility of getting caught at any moment. 
You both sped up your pace to the max feeling the climax approaching as a wild adrenaline rush took over your sweat covered bodies. You watched Coryo's eyelids flutter and small beads of sweat running down his forehead as his fingers curled against your sweet spot making your whole body twitch at the sensation.
Muffled moans filled the sauna room as you came all over Coryo's fingers and a thick load of cum covered your hand.
“You did so good angel,” you hummed against his lips after they met yours in a quick kiss.
Coryo let out a cute giggle trying to clean up the mess you’d both made.
“You should join my workout sessions more often.”
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yourhighness6 · 1 day
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Not my delusional ass ignoring canon deciding to believe that when Coryo was wondering in the book whether "intimacy would work" to convince Sejanus not to be a rebel he was actually talking romantically but when he started talking to him he panicked and was like "oh, uh, so, we're brOtHErS"
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zeglythism · 2 days
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slaymitchabernathy · 3 days
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The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
| this story was inspired by the songs "How Did It End?" & "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" by Taylor Swift |
| a companion to 'Pretty' |
Coriolanus holds the single rose in his hand with such vice that the stem has gone limp.
He’s been to enough funerals to know how this goes, what’s expected of him. He attended his little sister’s funeral.
“I’m going to see your sister.”
Those words play over and over in his head while the officiant drones on and on about what an exemplary citizen Soarynn Snow was. 
Was any of it true? Any of the time they spent together?
He thinks about all the time he spent with Soarynn. Seven years of life with her. He remembers the day he found out she was ticklish. He tickled her just to hear her laugh, to hear genuine happiness from her. She always seemed so miserable with him even though he’d given her everything she could ever dream of. 
Coriolanus thought he had a good grasp on grief. He lived through the war, after all, the Dark Days, and even managed to come out on top. He had the name, the wife, the child. Now two of those are gone.
He had found it extremely difficult to fathom the loss of his own child, his firstborn son. It just didn't seem like something that could happen to him, not when he was on top of the world. Not when they had the nursery all ready, the baby clothes hanging in the closet, the stuffed animals lining the shelves. Soarynn had thrown herself into preparing their son's nursery and transformed the empty space into a warm, loving environment.
They had been so close. So close. But there was a complication, undetected until it was too late and suddenly Coriolanus was receiving phone calls left and right telling him that his wife was found unconscious on their library floor in a pool of her own blood.
Why didn't she call him?
It was a question that plagued his mind as the doctor asked him who they should attempt to save, his son, or his wife.
He chose his wife of course.
Being a father of a dead child was bad enough, but to be a widowed man at such a young age? No. Coriolanus couldn't afford that. He knew their son wouldn't make it into the world alive and if he did then it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Another thing he couldn't afford was having a son who would undoubtedly be the laughingstock of Panem. With the possibility of disfigurements and mental lapses, it was easy for Coriolanus to make the call.
He knew it would devastate Soarynn beyond belief. As much as it terrified her, he knew she wanted to be a mother. She got pregnant rather quickly after their wedding, allowing Coriolanus to confirm once again that Soarynn was of value to him and their family.
He stood out in the hospital hall as they attempted to save his wife. He only caught a small glimpse of them cutting her open before he looked away. He couldn't watch. Then, his son was born.
He didn't make a sound. Stillborns don't cry.
They stitched her up and that was that. One dead child, and one grieving wife.
Coriolanus hadn't known what to do, what to say. Sure, he could be comforting when he needed to be, like when Soarynn had one of her little breakdowns after they had sex. But he was always prepared for those.
How do you prepare for the death of your firstborn child?
So he hadn't said anything, left her to talk with the doctor, and watched the nurses wheel in their dead child in his bassinet for Soarynn to hold for the first and last time. In a way, he was impressed that she even had the strength to do so. He never wanted to hold their son, to see a painful reminder of what could have been.
His curiosity had gotten the best of him once he joined Soarynn's side again, once he saw the pain and sorrow in her eyes. How empty her gaze was.
"What did he look like?" He had asked her, resting a hand on her head.
"He looked like a Snow," she had answered.
And that had been good enough for him.
꧁ ꧂
Coriolanus had however been prepared for the aftermath of their son's death. Only because he knew what it was like, to lose an infant due to unforeseen circumstances. When his baby sister died, his parents were quick to move past it. He felt it was better that way, no need to linger in the past when there was a bright future ahead of them. They could have another child. He'd confirmed that with the doctor before they left. Soarynn wasn't left barren and unable to give him more children and she certainly would give him children in due time.
They'd arrange a small funeral, grieve privately, and more forward publicly. Simple as that. He knew his wife could get sentimental, especially over stupid, little things like books and things of that nature. But he didn't need her to get caught up on what could have been.
He expected them to move on.
He didn't expect Soarynn to make a scene in front of their close family and friends before storming out of the penthouse, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Coriolanus had been furious, absolutely furious with her behavior. He wasn't the one who lost their child. He did everything right, everything by the books and still they lost him. It. They lost it.
Then she lost it.
Coriolanus knew where to go, to find her. She went home. He could give her whatever she wanted, fill their penthouse with all her favorite things but it still wouldn't be enough for Soarynn.
Glen had been upset, and understandably so. Coriolanus couldn't imagine the state that Soarynn showed up in and without their child on top of all that. But he was quick to smooth things over, win Glen over once again, and promised to come back in two days to collect Soarynn.
He got a phone call the next morning. He'd been surrounded by family and friends, namely the Creeds and Clemensia who all watched silently as Coriolanus was delivered the news that bore the death of his wife.
"Drowned in the bathtub."
That's what Glen mumbled before hanging up.
Coriolanus didn't know what to say, what to do. How do you drown in the bathtub? He knew enough to know that it had to be done on purpose. This was no accident. Soarynn killed herself.
He got a wide array of reactions when he shared the news. Most were filled with tears and condolences. It felt so strange to him to know that Soarynn wasn't in their room, curled up under the covers with her cat and a book.
She wasn't in the library, sitting in his favorite chair while she looked through old photo albums.
She was gone. How strange to be gone. To end your own life.
He had two funerals to plan now.
He'd only said a few words before disappearing into his room, "We'll tell no one except all of our friends." As far as everyone else was concerned, she died during the miscarriage. Women die all the time giving birth. What makes Soarynn so special?
But she had been special. Hadn't she? She'd been kind, and caring, she would've been a good mother. He'd never know how it would've ended.
But he couldn’t help himself from wondering how it all ended.
Were there signs? Had she cried out for help?
He tore their bedroom apart looking for clues, for something to hold onto, to tie him to her. After hours of endless searching, he finally came across a book he had never seen before, tucked away in their closet in an old shoe box. He’d held the small book in his hands, simply staring at it before he finally gained the courage to open it. 
Her diary. 
He hung me on his wall. Not literally but it felt like it. It always feels like I’m some animal pelt when he makes me take those pills. Sometimes I wish I were an animal pelt. At least I’d be dead. 
It was no wonder she kept this so hidden from him. He would’ve been livid if he found this when she was still alive. How strange to think that Soarynn wasn’t alive anymore. He would never be able to smell the sweet scent of vanilla again without thinking of the girl who sat in front of him in class that year. Little did she know that choosing that seat would cost her life. 
He kept reading. There were so many entries, all devastating in their own way. 
I wish I could run away. But I can’t, he trapped me. We’re having a baby in eight months. Coriolanus thinks it’ll be a boy, I hope so too for his sake. I don’t think he’d like a girl. Everyone has been congratulating me on the news but they do that a lot. Congratulate me. On the wedding, on the penthouse, on our relationship. If only they knew. He shows me off, loves to do it. I hate it. I hate it here.
He flipped to the end of the diary, not in the mood for her whining and nagging. The last entry was so short, but the way it was written made Coriolanus feel as if his throat was tightening up. It was like she knew he’d find her diary, would read it, would go to the last entry. She sounded so angry. 
Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?  In fifty years will this be declassified? And you’ll confess why you did it. And I’ll say, “Good riddance.”  Cause it wasn’t sexy once it wasn’t forbidden.  I would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. And you deserve prison, but you won’t get time.  You kicked out my stage lights, but you’re still performing.  In plain sight you hit. But you are what you did.  And I’ll forget you but I’ll never forgive. The smallest man who ever lived. 
At six-foot-two and at the top of the world, Coriolanus Snow had never felt so small. And for the first time in a very long time, much like his wife, he broke down. 
꧁ ꧂
"If anyone would like to share a memory or a few kind words, please do so now," the officiant says, somberly looking into the massive crowd of Capitol elites who have gathered to honor and mourn the death of Soarynn Snow and her stillborn child.
Coriolanus stares down at the ground, at her coffin. It's black and sleek with roses engraved around it. The proper casket for the wife of a Snow. A smaller one sits next to hers. Their sons.
Coriolanus squeezes the white rose in his hand a little tighter as someone walks up to the front, stepping onto the podium.
"Miss Soarynn was a fine Capitol lady."
Coriolanus looks up to see the doorman to their apartment standing at the microphone, "She always greeted me with a smile, asked how my day was going. She even brought me cookies one day, it...it was my birthday. She was a kind woman and my heart goes out to you Mr. Snow, your wife was a lovely lady."
Coriolanus manages to give the doorman a tight-lipped smile. It's hard to smile with that letter playing over and over in his head, those words haunting him now. Were they all watching him now?
His wife, his son, his sister, his mother-in-law?
He wasn't given much notice once the letter arrived on his doorstep. Glen Nightingale all but stormed into the penthouse, collecting every memory of Soarynn, including the cat. The look Glen had given him was all Coriioanus needed to know that Soarynn had told him everything. Or at least something.
He could feel the hatred radiating off of Glen as they stood next to each other.
"Soarynn Nightingale was too good for this world."
Coriolanus doesn't need to look up to know that Sejanus Plinth has taken to the microphone. "She was too gentle, too kind and trusting and that trust was taken advantage of over and over again by someone she blindly trusted. I hope that she and her son can find rest in the afterlife."
A few more people go up to speak, all noting how kind Soarynn was, how beautiful and gentle that girl was.
Was, was, was.
Eventually, Coriolanus is ushered to the podium. He knows he has to give out somewhat of a statement, he can see all the news outlets at the back of the crowd, eager to hear about the tragic events that have suddenly befallen the Snow family.
He clears his throat before speaking, "My gratitude extends to each and every one of you who has attended the funeral of my wife and son today. My wife was loved by many, my son never got the chance to be loved."
He knows that's not true. Soarynn loved their son before he was born.
"We were blind to unforeseen circumstances. My wife's pregnancy was complicated and in the end, led to a tragic and fatal miscarriage that took the lives of the two people who meant the most to me in the world."
Whispers can be heard throughout the crowd. Some people believe him. Coriolanus has always been good at playing for the cameras, telling people what they want to hear. Other whispers are doubtful of his love for Soarynn and their son.
And he has Glen Nightingale to thank for that. Three days after her death, it came out that Sorynn had filed for divorce. Claiming that she was the victim of domestic abuse, sexual violence, and coercion, and numerous amounts of other accusations that did nothing but taint his reputation.
As if her death wasn't hard enough, Coriolanus now has people coming at him left and right, questioning him and his marriage. His father advised him to keep his head down, to deny such claims, and to continue to share his love and adoration for Soarynn.
He just doesn't know if he has any to give.
"I loved my wife. She was kind and generous, she was a devoted woman who was loyal to her family and her country. She would want us to celebrate her life and our sons, not mourn it."
There, he's told people what they want to hear, and now, he's ready to hear what he wants to hear.
꧁ ꧂
The reception dinner is quiet for the most part, only small conversations take place. Many people have come up to Glen to give their condolences. One wife and one daughter gone. Coriolanus fears that he can now relate to Glen on that level and he so badly wishes that he didn't.
"Do you think you'll ever remarry?"
Coriolanus looks to his left to find Livia Cardew addressing him, her eyes pinning him down. A bit of an inappropriate question to ask at a funeral, especially his wife's funeral but Coriolanus will be damned if he comes off as unpolite by ignoring her question.
"I think right now I need to focus on putting the pieces back together," he answers, ignoring the glare that Glen sends his way.
Livia hums and turns back to her dinner leaving them in another uncomfortable silence. Soarynn certainly left a mess behind for him to clean up. Not only her death but now legal issues as well. What a selfish thing to do.
꧁ ꧂
They opted to leave the casket open for those who wanted a moment alone with Soarynn before they buried her six feet in the ground. Coriolanus had declined to do the same with his son. No one would ever know what he looked like, what he could have looked like. What could have been.
Many people go up to Soarynn, he watches them whisper words they probably don't mean. He doubts most people really knew her. He barely did himself it seems. Eventually, he gathers the courage to see his wife one last time. At least her death wasn't horrendous and she didn't slip her wrists open along with her face. She looks like she's sleeping.
But she'll never wake up.
He leans down until it's just the two of them, not a word between them. She smells like vanilla. Her skin is pale, it lacks the normal tan hue she always had.
"You left me," he whispers, "left me to deal with this mess."
Soarynn doesn't respond.
"You know, I keep going over it in my head. What if I never noticed you? Never took interest in you? Would my life be this fucked if we never met? Do you know Soarynn? Do you know how different things would've been for the both of us? if you're listening from Heaven do me a favor and ask someone up there if they can see, if they can see what it would look like if our paths never crossed. And if they can find something, somewhere where you never ruined my fucking life, you ask them something for me, okay?"
Coriolanus has to force himself to take a deep breath as he whispers to his wife, berating her from the grave.
"How did it end?"
He straightens up, giving Soarynn one last look. She was fun, quiet, and obedient for the most part. She tried to be good for him, and he had to give her credit for that.
Her hair has been done in curls, her makeup is light and her lips are a soft pink even though he knows that under all that makeup she's pale and her lips are blue.
She looks so pretty.
| Final Part |
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Just thinking about the fact that every victor is supposed to be free of the games once they win, but not only will they never be free from the trauma, but they get thrown back every single year to mentor… to watch at least one of those kids die, to watch those kids go through the same horrors they did. To try and get these kids mentors and save their lives, roping them into the very game that they were trying to escape when they won. Part of me wonders if some of the mentors just let the kids die so they won’t have to just be another cog in the machine the way that they are now… they may be a victor but there’s really only one winner of the hunger games, and that’s the Capitol.
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