Introcoryo

i just wanted to tell you that i am not normal about your writing and it pulls at something in my chest and it's just SO good that i don't even know how to express how it affects me, the way you weave words together is nothing short of a masterpiece. this is just a "you're my writing goals" kind of message ✨❤️

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS MEANS THE WORLD TO ME 😭😭

the moon in paintings. x

can i just throw something out very quickly:

firebender!coriolanus snow, who aims to become fire lord someday (using methods deemed too cunning, although he refers to himself as ‘resourceful’). he utilizes his words to beguile his peers into loyalty, saving his firebending for times that call to instill red hot fear and discipline.

coriolanus has a strong distaste towards his classmate, sejanus plinth, who he adjudges too ‘animalistic’ and ‘grotty’ to live among firebenders, yet finds the airbending nomad he is to mentor alluring and mystical. the blond especially dislikes sejanus’ foolish rambles about how he wishes to become a healer someday, as he himself knows that the minute the brunet was born an earthbender, that dream was over, so surely sejanus must know that too?

he slightly looks down on his nonbender cousin, tigris, who has truthfully kept the two of them alive through scavenging and foraging for food, sewing up intricate outfits for him to fit in with the upper class atmosphere of the academy and keep up appearances.

for his final assignment to establish himself as the star student of the academy’s senior class, he must figure out a scheme to ensure that the airbender, his airbender, is kept alive when put in an arena with 23 other tributes, some honing their bending for years. coriolanus is aware that her only way out is through cheating on his part, but won’t that deem him as a traitor? if he’s not careful, he too will find himself trapped in an arena. air can very well live on without fire, but that same fire will extinguish without the presence of air.

rest in peace legend. thank you for giving us such an amazing performance as president snow. 🕊️

[5.25pm, wip]

coriolanus. swoony type, curly hair, bedroom eyes, cheeks like wine.

above tipsy coriolanus snow was a sight to behold, rare and cartoonishly bizarre. his half lidded expression, playful grin, and most importantly, wandering hands. he can’t quite tell if he’s moderately intoxicated due to the posca he’s been mindlessly sipping on, or the feel of your warm skin against his own. the blond had not had the opportunity to develop a tolerance towards posca, as he’d much rather spend scraps of money he and tigris pull together to buy food, or at least a variation of that.

with his inhibitions out the window, he was much less guarded. less skeptical of the world around him. simply an academy student who had a little bit too much to drink, and uncharacteristically giggles at anything.

coriolanus would not normally put himself in a position where the next words out of his mouth were not thought of and analyzed thoroughly to procure the upper hand in a conversation, but he’s cursed with a nervous fidget of sipping on the contents of whatever glass he’s holding, which got him into this predicament. unaware, bashful, completely and evidently enamored by you.

also in my vision, finnick minors in public and social services in his second year+

botany major!katniss, who isn’t so good with her words, so she gifts you flowers that correlate with what she’s feeling. you walk hand in hand through the woods as she points out different plants, rambling on about how to recognize various species and their distribution patterns.

fine arts major!peeta, working tirelessly at his family’s bakery, making personalized latte art which leaves him with huge tips at the end of the day. all of his peers recognize you as the inspiration for all of his assignments, your features taking up every bit of his sketchbook.

mechanical engineering major!gale, his schedule so full and busy but always making time to see you daily. you’re always the first to hear about how he did on a particular exam, cuddled up as you watch nature documentaries.

aquatic biology major!finnick, known around campus as the university heartthrob. he spends most of his free time at the docks or the beach, feet always bare and buried underwater, occasionally splashing you playfully. suntanning and writing your initials in the sand is how your dates usually go.

athletic training major!johanna, who caresses your sleeping features and plants a small kiss on your forehead before leaving for her morning run. she teasingly flexes her muscles while you’re applying kinesiology tape on her body.

— suggestive themes, religious allusions.

sejanus plinth makes love as though he’s praying; practicing a religion he has thoroughly devoted himself to. a religion where you’re the sole deity, and he’s willing to give himself up, his own body autonomy, his vulnerability, as an offering.

sejanus knows wiser than most that a god won’t save anybody now, especially the districts, but his mind becomes clouded and dizzy with belief when he inhales your nectar-like scent and captures your ambrosia flavored lips between his.

first comes adoration. he leaves kisses along the side of your neck with a pleading, whining mantra of ‘please’s, asking permission to worship you. to bask in you. to prove his loyalty.

you don’t need to utter a word, just digging your fingers in his brunette curls is enough gospel and clarity to him.

and so comes confession. he proceeds with his ritual, hands gentle, light, but slow. sejanus is not the type to rush his prayers. he knows the more time he spends on his knees, the more rewards he’ll earn. the more he confesses his sins over and over again to you, the cleaner he’ll become. ridding himself of all his thoughts and letting himself become one with you was his momentary salvation.

then, thanksgiving. when he’s on the verge of losing himself in the feeling of your warmth and mercy, he begins to thank you incessantly. he blathers on about his gratitude, tears forming in his eyes, holding you so tight that his knuckles turn white.

and finally, his supplication also comes in white. as he halts his movements and pants in your ear, he feels rejuvenated again. full of hope. sejanus has given himself to you entirely and wholly, offered up his most primal gift, and he prays and prays to you for the day of deliverance.

Oh. My. God.

The way you wrote abt Sejanus making love like its religion 😳😳 Literally speechless it was perfect

Please please write more abt Sejanus 🙏🙏 (if you can and want to ofc)

thank you so much!! :D i’m soon going to be posting a little intro as this is my first time writing here, but i’m planning on posting way more of sejanus! and of course, i’m always taking requests, be it for sejanus or for any other character from the entirety of the hunger games franchise.

— au where you’re reaped as sejanus plinth’s tribute from district 2, and he breaks into the arena to get his final goodbyes in.

coriolanus can see the brunette’s jaw tighten in his peripheral vision when highbottom announces that he’ll be mentoring one of the district 2 tributes. that tightness is followed by a deep, deep scowl when the reapings are aired, and your sweet, lamb-like face is shown on the now, sejanus notices, glaring screen. he has half a mind to storm out, but instead swallows thickly to fool his brain into thinking he’s calm and collected.

he remembers you, as if a remnant from a previous life. sejanus knows this is a shameful way of thinking. he’s no capitolite. they can throw as much money as they want at him, keep his stomach full and plump of steak and apple pie, give him the so called luxury of attending the academy, but he knows his name will metaphorically never leave that reaping bowl. for each year the hunger games have commenced, three names were picked from district 2. a boy’s, a girl’s, and sejanus’s. he is in that arena with them, although not physically. and that is what hurts him most. his name, although not verbally chosen and spoken into a microphone, is amongst that litter, and yet he has the privilege, like every capitolite, of leaving the arena every year when the victor is announced, when his fellow district 2 tributes do not have that option.

upon first greeting you at the capitol zoo, a stinging pang shoots through his throat. he has absolutely no idea how he’ll be able to mentor you without completely destroying himself in the process. it’s eating him up inside; this hope that the academy has indirectly forced you to place in him. how that hope, crushed, would leave as you, god forbid, would have to take your final breaths in that arena, with nothing to attach to that despair but sejanus’s face.

you’re timid at first. you too, remembered this familiar face. the big brown eyes, never dull of emotion. long, fluttering eyelashes. he’s much taller now, with curly hair that looks like raw hazelnut under the sun. with the way he’s looking at you, you figured he did not outgrow his tenderness. it was no look of pity, though, but a look of understanding. of sharing your fear, instead of accepting your fate. that made you feel a comfort you haven’t felt since standing in your district’s square.

after a few minutes of silence, of examining each other wordlessly, communicating with shared gazes, sejanus decides to speak up first, albeit everyone knowing it is his heart that speaks for him.

“i am so, so sorry for—”

he begins, but you stop him. there wasn’t a point to this, you think. unless he was the one who picked out your name specifically, why would he even feel the need to apologize? that certainly won’t change anything.

“it’s fine. it’s not your fault. i know, big elephant in the room, i’m behind bars at a zoo. the odds just weren’t in my favor. i’m not sure they will decide they like me later, either.”

sejanus clenches a hand around one of the steel bars at your pessimism, but how can he blame you? he has no hope himself, how could he even possibly think you would? he wishes he could effortlessly bend the barrier separating you two with his palms, grabbing you by the hand and running off somewhere else. somewhere safe. somewhere hopeful. he knows he can’t, and that leaves a shake in his voice as he chooses his next words delicately.

“i just… if there’s any way i could help you, guarantee that you would… walk out of there unharmed…”

“well, i saw the district 12 girl with her supposed mentor in here. inside the zoo. you’re mine, i assume? do what a mentor has to do. mentor me out… and some food won’t hurt, either.”

at the mention of that, sejanus’s face slightly lights up, and he reaches into his scarlet colored blazer pocket, taking out a wrapped napkin and handing it to you. you reach through the bars to take this mysterious item from him, fingers lingering just a bit, and unwrap it to find a sandwich, diagonally cut. you smile wistfully at the simple meal before you, this being the very first act of kindness you’ve been on the receiving end of since coming to the capitol. so much for hosting etiquette.

“thank you, sejanus, really… here,” you say in an unanticipated small voice, holding out one of the pieces.

the brunette freezes. you’re still kind. all of this, and you’re still kind. perhaps that’s all you’ll ever be. perhaps that’s what will be what dooms you in that arena. you will try to speak heart to heart, not sword to sword. he loathes that he’s thinking this way. he absolutely despises that he knows you will not be able to walk away from this without staining your hands red, but what has made a home in his chest is the miserable feeling of not knowing whether you’ll be able to do that. he’s district. he will forever be district, a vow he made at birth. but here he is, standing in front of you, free. here he is, handing you food as though you truly belonged in that zoo. he is everything you wished you could be in that moment, and yet you still decide to share your meal with him, despite the rumbling coming from your stomach. he wants to take it. wants to act like this is a normal picnic that you two are having together, but he knows you need that full sandwich. he knows you should take all you can get.

and so he declines politely. you begin to talk about the changes in district 2 since he’s left, and how life continued, yet everyone was stuck. sejanus emphasizes. he listens. but the dread has not left his system. he starts to think about how he’ll see you in another life if this one wasn’t enough. there’s so much time on the other side, and here it all feels like a constant countdown. never knowing if your time will be cut short. he mentally chastises himself; he needs to be optimistic. he needs to be here for you, now. he needs to think about the life you’ll have when he gets you out, not if. soon enough, you’ll believe it too.

to say that sejanus was a complete wreck watching you enter that arena would be an understatement. the cameras capture your soft features so well that you look displaced. lost. you shouldn’t be there, he thinks. no one should be there. the tears that built up in a split second blur his vision, and when the bell rings, he is there, running as a district 2 tribute.

sejanus watches as you take his advice, as you run and hide immediately, and he is kept at bay through at least that. he can’t lose it now. not when you’ve placed your entire life bare in his hands.

but sejanus is weak, too. he feels too much too often. his thoughts are frantic, and he finds himself in that arena the following night. the thumping in his chest intensifies as the voice at the entrance pleads him to enjoy the show, and he scoffs at that. he checked the cameras before coming, so he knows exactly where you are, and he’s so overwhelmed with the thought of seeing you that it doesn’t register that he has now, momentarily, taken the path he very well could’ve lived if he had not moved to the capitol. sejanus plinth, district 2 tribute.

light footed, he makes his way across the arena, and up the stands. he saw you come out of hiding when it was safe out, when most of the tributes were either asleep or in the tunnels, gathering a weapon or two from the cornucopia then settling on high ground. he figures you were startled once you heard the automatic greeting that played when he walked in, so he whispers your name.

he whispers it again. so delicately. laced with so much sweetness, it feels wrong to say it here.

and then a third time. the syllables now come out desperate. overwrought. he can’t leave without seeing you. touching you. it will break him.

“sejanus?” his ears perk up, and he looks around, frenzied, trying to distinguish the direction your voice came from. you peek out from one of the stands, and when you find those big, brown eyes looking back at you, you pick yourself up entirely and run to hold the man before you. the man who rushed into the possibility of death head on just to wrap his arms around you. he’ll face it all, just for that. oh how he wished you knew how badly he wanted to swap your places.

“you’re… but how? why? it’s dangerous here—” sejanus wastes no time, cupping your cheeks and diving in to kiss you. his hands are holding on to you for dear life, as if his knees will give out without the support. his eyebrows are knit together, focused on the feel of your lips on his. they’re dry, chapped, and cracked, but he doesn’t care. he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip to give you some relief, making a mental note to send you some water as soon as he leaves.

he kisses you until it hurts him. until his lips are swollen and red. until the way you’re tightening your hands on his broad shoulders feels as though it’ll leave bruises. when you break the kiss to breathe, he tries to take you all in. to memorize everything. he desperately needs a pen and paper right this moment so he could draw you as accurately as he can, lest his memory fails him later.

the automatic voice sounds again, and only you turn your attention to the entrance. slowly comes coriolanus snow, the district 12 girl’s mentor, and his eyes scan the arena before they land on yours. you nudge sejanus lightly to direct his gaze to his friend, but he wants more. he can’t leave now. he can’t leave you. not like this.

“it’s okay, sejanus. i’ll be okay. help from the outside, and we’ll see each other again in no time.” you whisper, a tiny bit unconvincingly, eyes glossy. “just take care of yourself, okay?”

sejanus’s lips quiver, and he too whispers. you don’t believe it’s because of the other tributes, but because if he were to speak normally, only a sob would come out.

“you are myself. please take care of me.” you glance down and nod at that, tasting the saltwater that came rushing down your cheek. he wipes the trail that settled along your face, and begrudgingly makes his way to the blond.

sejanus is motivated by the thought, the need, to get you out of there. no matter the methods he uses. no matter the consequences he faces. he has the resources to buy you more time, and he finds himself not above exploiting them.

you were coriolanus snow’s rosebud.

a head of styled and silk soft, golden locks, and eyes so icy blue that they contrast the heat that flushes the two of you as you gasp — pant — for air in a secluded hall of the academy. his pupils dart between yours with a subtle knit of his brows, so blown and full of need that you feel a second, more intense blush creeping up your neck.

could this really be the academy’s star senior? the most diligent student they could offer? skipping a lecture because his yearning is stronger than his desire to learn? those questions are rhetorical, of course, as all three were answered with a simple tug of your sleeve on your way to class, urging you to follow him wordlessly.

“what’s gotten into you, coryo? miss me too much?” you say, lightheartedly. his tense expression never falters, instead offering a twitch of his eye as he takes a short breather. he has a hand sprawled across the fabric of your uniform, holding you close by the small of your back, pushing you up against him, and another cupping your cheek.

coriolanus was emotionally complex. his conditioned way of thinking sadly did not get along with his feelings. he had a compulsive need to control, control, control, and you knew that. he struggled to not let anything slip through the cracks, but hid that behind the facade of a social chameleon.

the blond in front of you, however, was not the coriolanus people were accustomed to. so overcome with hastiness that he was borderline shaking.

“just… just need you… need you and nothing else. tell me you need me too. say it.” coriolanus whispers, demands, and you think for a second that it might be so others meandering through the halls don’t hear, but doubt that, judging by the way his fingers are digging into your skin and the urgency in his eyes. you take a moment to process his request, and nod your head briskly.

you admire the way a curl falls over his temple, so perfectly marigold and twisted, the way his irises look almost crystal-like and so clear that you can see yourself distinctly in the reflection. his lips, pretty and plump, like a meticulously cared for peony that you oh so dared to pluck.

“say it.” so lost in thoughts of admiration, you’re almost startled by the hoarseness of his voice. his tone is imposing, but the pleading pinch of his eyebrows begged and begged for your answer, afraid it might hear different.

“i need you, coriolanus. nothing else.” immediately, the blond’s features soften, wrinkles formed on his forehead finally smoothing over. you don’t question him in moments like this; he’s just in need of grounding every once in a while. the thumb placed on your cheekbone begins to caress you, and he rushes to your lips. hungry. needy. almost as if trying to devour you to keep you all to himself.

class can wait, you decide.