#personal response from the GameMaker

[theoldsports]

married.

Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words

alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3

Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.

As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.

[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.

And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.

“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.

[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.

“No problem.”

[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.

After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”

“Dry cleaner’s.”

Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.

[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.

“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”

“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.

The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.

“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”

“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”

“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”

“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”

“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?

[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.

She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.

Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.

After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.

The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.

Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.

“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.

Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.

[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”

“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.

[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.

“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”

[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.

It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”

Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.

“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.

“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.

“Yes.”

“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.

“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”

“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.

“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”

Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.

They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”

“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”

“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.

When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”

—

The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.

“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”

“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”

“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”

“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.

Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”

“If I must.” [Y/N] said.

With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.

Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.

After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.

Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.

[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”

“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.

“Junkie is such a strong word…”

“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.

“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.

Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.

Fuck.

Her parents.

[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.

“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.

Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”

“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.

[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.

“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“

[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.

Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.

“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.

“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.

“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.

“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.

“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”

[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”

“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”

“Absolutely and unendingly.”

“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”

“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.

“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.

“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.

“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.

A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.

“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.

Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.

“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”

“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.

The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”

“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”

Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.

“And?”

“No reason, just making conversation.”

Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”

“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.

“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”

This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”

“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Blowjob.”

“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.

“What?”

In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.

“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.

“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”

“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“

“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”

“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”

“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”

[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.

“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.

“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”

He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.

“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.

[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.

[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.

“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.

More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”

[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.

Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.

“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“How many men have had you behind my back?”

It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.

[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.

That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.

“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“

Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”

“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.

Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.

“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“

“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.

Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.

Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.

Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.

[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”

“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.

[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.

Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.

“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”

“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”

“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

PART II HERE

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt

sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru

[runningfrom2am]

gem of panem // LTPF

summary: introducing regulus and regan snow; son and daughter of the most powerful couple the country has ever seen. the real gems of panem.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: dad!coryo!! finally!!, gamemaker!reader, this time the capitol brats are their kids, also a little bit of violence in this one!! some very minor medical procedure descriptions (trypanophobia havers beware- although that's me so i was VERY vague with descriptions otherwise i would have made myself cry)

a/n: i've had dad!coryo requested for this series a few times so here's a taste of that and an introduction to their kids!! ahh I've been working on this for so long i hope you guys love it :)

series masterlist // playlist

"I simply do not have time for this. Notify my husband." You wave off your assistant as you stand over the large round table in your laboratory.

"I- uh, your husband, Doctor Snow?" The young girl stammers.

"I don't believe I stuttered, did I?"

"No, Doctor. I just... I am uncertain he will be available right now."

You look up from the scattered pile of papers, and you can see her tense up. "I understand that he's our president, but he is also a father. He is more 'available' than I am a week before the games! Now go, he shall handle it."

"Yes, okay. I will, I'm sorry." She agrees, already pacing away and out of your sight and you get back to work, resisting the urge to attempt at rubbing away your now growing migraine.

"President Snow, sir?" Coryo looks up from his desk as one of his people opens the door for your assistant.

"Serena, my wife sent you?" He asks, standing quickly. It wasn't standard that you would send her instead of showing up yourself, or even just waiting until the end of the day to tell him over dinner.

"Yes, sir." She nods, looking down at her notepad. "Her office got a call from the academy, about an hour ago. They wished to speak with her about your son, sir. In person."

Coryo furrows his brow, already standing and grabbing his red overcoat. "Did something happen?" Why would they call the head gamemaker and demand her presence a week before the games? That seems incredibly careless.

"They wouldn't tell me anything other than the fact he is safe and not injured, sir."

He nods slightly, already brushing past her out the door. "Call the school, tell them I am on my way."

Coryo gets out of the black car, pacing up to the elementary wing of the academy's campus, a building he is far too familiar with. Walking in, he watches the receptionists eyes go wide as they both stare at him. He clears his throat.

"Where is my son?" He asks flatly.

"In the Deans office, President Snow." She replies and he nods, rubbing his jaw.

"Whose decision was it to call on my wife a week before the games are set to begin?"

Her face pales. "Well, um, she is the primary emergency contact for him, it is procedure to make that call first."

"So it was you?"

"Yes, sir."

Coryo leans onto the counter that separated them. "Right, well, maybe we should work on our critical thinking skills next time if we want to keep our jobs, yes?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He smiles slightly at her response, tapping his hand on the granite counter before walking off down the private hall.

He enters without knocking, practically slamming the door open and immediately searching the unnecessarily large office for your son. "Regulus, are you alright?" He asks, approaching the boy quickly when he sees him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Dad, I'm fine..." He mutters, arms crossed over his chest as he pouts.

Coryo crouches down in front of him, examining him closely.

"Coriolanus, I was surprised to get your call." The new Dean says, drawing his attention as he stands back up.

"Why is that?" Coryo asks, turning to his former classmate with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugs, standing behind her desk with her hands in her pockets. "We called for Y/N."

"A week before the games." He nods, approaching the desk slowly. "Are you not happier to see me than her, timing considered?"

"That's a good point." Persephone chuckles.

"Yes, she was not pleased you even called." Coryo replies, knowing he didn't even speak with you directly. "So please, tell me what is so important that you needed to interrupt both of our schedules."

"Right, yes. Please take a seat." She gestured toward the chair across from her own and he sits, only because it's polite. "So," She flips over a page in the notebook in front of her. "Regulus hit another student."

Coryo's eyebrows raise, and he turns to look at his son who's still pouting in the corner. "Come here, please." He pages him, and he saunters over, refusing to make eye contact with either of the adults in the room.

"Why?" Coryo asks him as he takes the empty seat next to him. The boy shrugs, still avoiding their gaze.

Coryo sighs. "Would you mind, Persephone? What happened?"

"Apparently..." She glances at her notes again. "Another student took his pencil without asking first and didn't give it back because, quote, 'they needed it and he had plenty'." She explains, looking up at them again. Regulus was the striking image of his father, his hair in the same longer somewhat disheveled curls that she used to remember on the man sitting next to him when they were that age.

"That's it?" Coryo asks.

"He hit him on the head, he's in the nurses office now being assessed for a concussion."

"Okay..?" He chuckles slightly in response. "Why did you have to call us?"

"Because this is a serious disciplinary issue." She scoffs, gesturing to his son.

Coryo looks between the two of them. "Okay, well, he looks like he feels bad, and I'll have my staff send an apology letter to the boys parents." He says, standing up again and tucking the chair back in. "Come on, kid. Let's go."

"Coriolanus, respectfully, this is more severe than that." Persephone interrupts. "We won't allow students to go around hurting others- especially over something so menial as a pencil. Eight years is too old for that kind of behaviour."

"You know his mother- don't you?" Coryo asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "I promise you, Dean Price, this is not serious." He turns then to his son. "Grab your stuff, I'll take you home." He says, and the little blonde boy rushes back to the corner to grab his bag.

"Coriolanus." She says again, exasperated by his lack of concern.

"Oh, and please tell the other boy that theft is not tolerated in Panem. He's lucky we won't have him executed." Coryo says, feigning a genuine smile at her with a sharp nod. He knows this isn't true, that executing a child over something so petty would never be considered in the Capitol, it would just be wasteful, but maybe next time he would think before stealing from the Presidents son.

She gives up at this, sighing as they walk toward the door.

Coryo shuts the door behind them, reaching forward to ruffle his son's hair.

The boy giggles, pouting and trying to fix it. "Dad.." He laughs, looking back up at him. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

"No, of course not." He grins, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder as they walk. "Did you know that your Dean is a cannibal?" He whispers, giving a quick nod to the girls at the reception desk as they pass.

Regulus gasps, looking up at him. "Is she really?"

"Yes." Coryo nods. "Tell your friends."

"Ew..." His son shivers, and Coryo smiles.

"I know right? Gross." He laughs quietly as they step out into the hall. "Now, where's your sister?"

"She's in English." Regulus answers and Coryo nods, leading him up the stairs and toward the classroom.

Once again, Coryo doesn't bother knocking before opening the door to his daughter's classroom.

Everyone looks up at once and the teacher pauses, gasps and whispers filling the room.

"Daddy!" Regan smiles, standing quickly and running down the stairs to the door, throwing her arms around his waist.

"Hi, Gem." He chuckles slightly, rubbing her back as she clings to him.

"President Snow..." The teacher smiles nervously. "We weren't expecting a visit today, but we were just discussing the significance of The Hunger Games and it's depictions in literature, would you care to comment?"

"Oh, interesting!" He grins, glancing back to Regulus waiting just outside. "I would love to, but Regan's mother is really the one to speak to about all that. Unfortunately, I'm busy today but perhaps we can get her in one day to speak in one of your lessons?"

"That would be wonderful." Her teacher smiles. "Then, what brings you in?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry for interrupting, but I'll be pulling Regan for the day." He explains and his daughter gasps, looking up at him with excitement. "Yeah." He whispers to her, patting her head. "Go get your things."

"Oh! Okay, did you sign her out? Typically they would call me beforehand." The teacher replies as Regan goes back to her seat, grabbing her things and being not so sneaky about sticking her tongue out at her classmates.

"No, I just decided to grab her while I was here. Just call the office and let them know I took her." He smiles, opening his arm to his daughter again as she comes back.

Regan practically skips out of the room, super excited to be free of something she already hears about endlessly at home. "What happened, Daddy? Why are we leaving?" She asks, grabbing her father's hand.

"Well, my schedule cleared up and I just thought 'Hm... I sure am missing my favourite girl today,' and then I remembered your last report card and how incredibly well you are doing and decided you deserved a day off."

"Really?!" She squeals, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Of course, Sweetheart." Coryo chuckles, scooping her up to carry her down the stairs.

"Lux, what would you like to do today? Anything you want." He looks down at the boy walking next to them.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Daddy, can we go see Mum?" Regan asks, looking up at him with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. "I want to see her pets!"

Coryo chews the inside of his cheek. It's certainly not a good time, but if he would be with them maybe they could just sneak in to say hello. He found it extremely difficult to say no to her. "Sure, Darling." He nods, opening the front door to the academy.

"Okay, remember, Mum is very busy so we're just going to pop in to say hello, and if she says it's okay we can go see her pets." Coryo explains to the kids as they get out of the car outside the Citadel. "We're going to be quiet, and not touch a single thing unless I say it's okay."

Regan's blonde pigtails bounce as she runs up the stairs in front of the building, having abandoned her bag in the car. Regulus is right on her heels, reaching for her hair as if he's going to pull it.

They were under a year apart in age, 'district twins', as Ma Plinth had dubbed them when Regan was born. When you were expecting your son, the games were difficult to plan and execute. You would never admit it, but Coryo could see that the hormones of pregnancy made you almost sympathetic to the tributes and their families- you could hardly even watch the games you spent a year meticulously planning. You spent most of the time you could watch with a bucket in your lap. So when Coryo suggested you have your second right away, you were skeptical. You didn't want to go through that again right away, but he wasn't sure he could convince you to do it again if you decided to wait.

"Let's just get it over with," He had insisted. "Then we'll have our two beautiful babies and you'll never have to do it again. Everything will go back to normal." You couldn't argue with that logic.

So when Regulus was eleven months old, the Capitol was buzzing with excitement over the announcement that the First Lady of Panem had given birth to another child; a baby girl, and she was perfect.

"Gem of Panem! What do we have here?" Your receptionist grins as the three of them stroll in, eyes locked on the kids as Regan holds her head high. The receptionist is rounding the desk, crouching down and opening her arms for the little girl who happily runs into them. "If it isn't the real gem of Panem, how are you, Miss Regan?"

"I'm good." Regan giggles, arms wrapped around the woman's neck. "Daddy picked me up from school early."

"I see that." She chuckles, standing up and lifting the seven year old onto her hip as she looks at Coryo.

"I decided to let the kids have the rest of the day off today, and they wanted to come say hi to Doctor Snow." He explains. "If she has a moment."

"Oh, that's a good question..." The woman nods, gently lowering Regan back to the ground and circling the desk again, pulling up the paper schedule and scanning over it for a moment. "You know what, let me call her and just ask."

Your phone rings on your desk in the corner and you sigh, heels clicking across the floor as you pace over. "I swear to god if it is the school again..." You mumble to yourself, picking up the line. "What is it?"

"Doctor Snow, sorry to bug you, but your family is here."

"My family..." You ask, mind still set on the technical details of the almost prepared arena.

"Yes, Doctor. President Snow has brought your children by, they wish to see you, but only if you have time."

You blink, realizing what she said. "Okay, yes. That's fine. Send them down."

You can hear your kids before you see them, Regan talking away mostly to herself as they step out of the elevator into the part of your lab that held your office. You sigh, quickly removing your leather gloves and fixing the disheveled state of your hair before stepping out into the hall to greet them.

"Mummy!" Your daughter squeals, running toward you as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

"Hi, Gem..." You laugh slightly, eyes now focussed on Regulus. He's shifting on his feet, standing so close to his father's side that he's almost standing behind him.

"Lux," You let your daughter go, opening your arms to him. "Come here, darling. What's wrong? What happened?"

He doesn't say anything, eyes locked on the ground as he walks up to you and leans into your shoulder. "Are you hurt?" He slightly shakes his head and you pick him up, allowing him to wrap his legs around your waist and arms around your neck.

You look pointedly at your husband.

'I'll tell you about it later' He mouths to you and you nod, gently rubbing circles into the boys back while Regan pulls on your lab coat impatiently.

"Mummm," She whines, already stomping her foot on the ground since your attention was no longer on her. "Mum, I want to see your pets and Daddy said we could."

"I said maybe, Gem." Coryo laughs slightly.

You chew on your lip, not minding the deteriorating state of your red lipstick. You were really anxious to find out what happened with Regulus, so maybe letting the kids entertain themselves for just a moment would allow you a second to talk to Coryo about it.

"Sure, of course you can. We'll just have to be quick, Mum is very busy today." You smile, gently putting your son down as his head perks up at the idea. "Come on." You take his hand, leading them all down the hall to one particularly safe section of your lab.

There are a series of mutts under testing and development here, but in this room close to your office, it contained only small animals like mice and rats, or bugs that the kids never showed much interest in. "Don't touch a thing, okay?" You tell them as you unlock the door.

The kids rush in, running up to a tank and immediately gawking at its contents. You didn't understand why, fully, since they just looked like regular old house mice. Your kids just wanted to be involved, you supposed. The same way Regan enjoyed sitting on Coryo's lap while he gave speeches or did interviews, but Regulus had always shown more of an interest in what you did behind the scenes, not just in front of the cameras.

"What happened?" You ask Coryo quietly as soon as they are sufficiently occupied.

Coryo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek as you keep your eyes locked on the kids. "Hello to you too."

You sigh, smiling as you lean into him. "Hi. Sorry. I'm just a little stressed."

"I know, love. Don't worry about it." He squeezes your side. "We'll get out of your hair in a few minutes."

"What happened with him?" You ask again.

"He hit another kid." Coryo states plainly and you gasp, turning to fully look at him for the first time.

"What?" You ask, searching his expression for any clue that he may have been kidding.

He shrugs. "They stole his pencil and refused to give it back."

"Oh, well, then they deserved it." You scoff. "Little brat- did you get the names of the parents?"

He laughs quietly, shaking his head and reaching up to hold your cheek. "I handled it. Don't worry about a thing." You don't have the chance to argue before he's kissing you to hush any of your concerns.

You hum against his lips, pressing a hand to his chest. "But, Coryo-"

"I handled it." He reminds you, just gently biting down on your lower lip. You can feel him smiling against you and you hum, allowing yourself to relax for just a moment.

Coryo takes the opportunity to turn to face you fully, dragging his hands down over your hips and backing you against the wall just behind you.

The kids were there, yes, but they were well used to seeing you kiss. It didn't bother either of you, and they had never known anything else. One day they may complain, but until that day came you would take every opportunity granted to you within your mutually tight schedules. Besides, the kids should know what love looks like. High expectations are good expectations, in your opinion.

The moment is interrupted by your phone ringing in your office down the hall and you quickly take a step back. With the tributes already in the Capitol, you couldn't afford to miss a call. Anything could happen- you know that story well.

"I'm sorry, I need to get that." You say and he nods as you turn to the kids. "Lux, Gem, come on. Time to go."

"Mum!" Regan whines, stomping her foot down as she always tended to do. "We just got here, can't we stay a few more minutes?"

"No, Regan. Out. Come on." You motion for them to come and they do, but your daughter in particular looks extremely unpleased as she stomps past you and out the door while Regulus follows with his hands tucked in his pockets. You turn off the light and lock the door.

"Okay, I'll see you at home tonight. Yes?" You kiss your husbands cheek and he smiles, giving you another quick kiss before you disappear into your office and shut the door behind you.

You take the call, and of course it was nothing of importance. So many things had to be run by you as head gamemaker that they felt it necessary to call and confirm the contents of what would be fed to the tributes. It never ended.

You don't even get the time to process where you had left off with your work before you're overwhelmed by voices. Your name being yelled by your husband accompanied by screaming, horrified pained screaming- which you quickly identify as coming from Regan. Your motherly instincts kick in before you even know it and you're throwing your door back open and are standing in the hall.

Coryo rushes out of the elevator with your daughter in his arms, his eyes wide as he moves quickly toward you. "It bit her! Something bit her- I don't know, I-"

You nod; there's no time for questions. "Okay, get her to the exam room." Moving as quickly as possible down the hall, you're grabbing at her little red blazer and pulling the sleeves up as she keeps screaming bloody murder.

You shove the door open and rush inside, for the first time noticing Regulus following behind you. You grab his shirt and pull him in while Coryo quickly lays her on the table. Even in the panic, you couldn't leave him unsupervised anywhere in the lab. Especially if something had escaped.

"Get her top unbuttoned, I'll need her arm free!" You tell Coryo as you shuffle around through the cupboard quickly trying to find everything you were looking for. A syringe, the antidote for whatever it may be. You don't even know. Glancing over your shoulder, her skin looks flushed with red patches showing up on her neck and face; but it could just be from crying.

Coryo's hands are shaking as his daughter continues to scream and cry in his face, making it harder for him to get her blazer off and unbutton her top. "You're going to be okay, darling. Shh, shh... Mum's gonna help." All he can think about while he pulls off her blazer and frees her arms from the little blue shirt is the time that he saw Clemensia Dovecote get bit by one of Gaul's snakes. He thought she was dead, and she walked out of the hospital wishing that she was. She never recovered- but she was quickly given treatment. Much quicker than his seven-year-old daughter, who is also significantly smaller than his friend was at the time.

"What was it? Did you see what it was?" You ask in a panic, bringing over a box and flinging it open next to her on the table.

"I didn't see it! I just saw-"

"It was a mouse." Regulus says, and Coryo turns to him with wide eyes. Luckily, you're all action and you're already filling the syringe with something that should counteract whatever effects the mouse's bite could have on her while he stares at his son. He looks calm, watching the scene with a tilted head. "It was just a mouse, Daddy."

Coryo looks away, grabbing Regan's hand and squeezing it. He didn't have the chance to tell you that whatever it was, apparently this "mouse", had been dropped down the back of Regan's shirt by her brother as soon as the elevator began to lift them. He had done it on purpose. Though, he couldn't have known what was wrong with the creature.

"This is just gonna be a pinch, Gem. Try and take a deep breath for me..." You tell her as you squeeze her arm. She makes no effort to do so, but knowing that the mice were only being designed to cause pain, it didn't surprise you.

"There you go, good girl..." Coryo coos at her as you just as quickly remove the needle, quickly disposing of it as he brushes her hair back from where it clung to her face. Immediately he can see the blood returning to her face, and she's still crying but whatever it was you gave her must have helped with the pain instantly.

"She'll be okay." You sigh in relief, rejoining his side and lifting Regan up so she's sitting. "Can you hold her? I just need to find the bite."

Coryo sits on the table, lifting her into his lap as you look over her arms and ankles. "It's on her back." He tells you, repositioning her carefully so you could see. She wasn't screaming anymore, just sniffling with eyes drooping shut.

You furrow your brow, stepping to his other side to get a look at it, seeing the small swelling area at the top of her back. You grab some disinfectant to quickly clean it before you dress it properly. "What happened?" You ask. "Did she fall?" It was unclear to you how she could have been bitten in such a place without being on the ground.

Coryo doesn't say anything, shifting his gaze over to Regulus again. He's watching you closely and how you're treating the bite, eyes trained on your gloved hands.

When your husband doesn't answer you immediately you look up at him again, and then follow his eyes to your son. "What did you do?" You ask him, plastering the gauze onto your daughter's back.

"I just wanted to know what would happen, Mummy." He says simply.

"You knew what would happen, Lux. I've told you so many times not to touch anything. That it's not safe, and one of you could get hurt." You frown, packing up your first aid kit before going over to him, and kneeling down in front of the blonde boy. "I know you're interested in what I do, and I love that, but if you have questions you have to ask. Not do experiments yourself."

You grab his arms to get him to look at you again. "Hey, I'm not mad at you." You say softly. "I just need you to be careful. You're smarter than this."

He nods, wrapping his arms around your neck and hugging you. You sigh as you hug him back. "You can't hurt your sister, darling. We're a team. Do you understand?"

"I do. It was just a mouse, I didn't think it would be that bad. I'm sorry." He agrees quietly, eyes still locked on his sister as his dad cradles her gently in his arms. She's passed out against his chest, holding her as close as he possibly can.

He shakes his head at his son, trying to display his clear disappointment. It would quickly be noticed if his daughter, the President's daughter, fell ill, and he knew he would have to jump through hoops to cover up her recovery and that the very reason for it was her own brother.

Regulus Snow was his mother's son, and Coriolanus didn't believe his apology one bit.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

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.

SUMMARY: Bellova begins to notice how dedicated Coriolanus is to helping his tribute, which greatly displeases her. But her anger at the young Snow is temporarily forgotten about when one of her classmates dies in her arms. (i’m using a combination of the movie and book version of the events that occur in this chapter)

Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, death, mentions of violent urges, mentions of blood, crying, one swear word

Bellova sighed inwardly, drawing a rose with a fountain pen on her notebook where she was supposed to be writing down Dean Highbottom’s words. The lecture was pointless in her opinion. She knew everything the dean was talking about by heart, and she was alive when the events being discussed were occurring. 

She would never admit it to him, but she wished Coriolanus hadn’t skipped class to accompany his tribute. It was unusual for him, the star student, to miss a lecture, even one of Highbottom’s. The competition between them made the dean’s nonsensical ramblings almost bearable.

Then, as if on cue, a breathless and sweaty Coriolanus burst into the lecture hall. All eyes turned to him, shocked at his disheveled appearance.

“Your little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow. Chief amongst them, endangering a Capitol student,” Dean Highbottom said, not looking up from his papers. 

“What?” Coriolanus said, baffled. “Who?”

“You.” Highbottom’s response made Bellova roll her eyes. He was constantly looking for reasons to target the young Snow. “I’m moving for the Gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor immediately.”

“You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away,” Coriolanus argued, standing at his seat next to Bellova but not sitting down.

“I’ll add insubordination as well,” the dean said smugly.

“Holding her hand, Coryo? Introducing her to people?” Arachne said, clearly disgusted. “You make it look as if we’re one and the same as those animals.”

Bellova couldn’t help but agree silently with her. She hated that Coriolanus had done so much to promote Lucy Gray, even going so far as to touch her. Had he forgotten that he was of the purest Capitol blood, only fit to associate with those who also held that status?

“Coriolanus didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Bellova had to grip her textbook to refrain from throwing something at the young Plinth. He was being foolish, saying such things in the presence of the dean and the other mentors.

“I don’t need your help, Sejanus,” Coriolanus snapped.

“That the tributes are human beings. Just like us,” Sejanus continued. “That’s why nobody wants to watch the Games. It’s because people know deep down that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights.”

“Shut up, Sejanus, please,” Bellova murmured through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, Dr. Gaul appeared, startling many of the mentors. Bellova looked at her, setting down her fountain pen.

“Snow fell down in the cage,” she began, smiling crookedly. “It fell down in the cage but it landed…”

“On stage,” Coriolanus finished.

The doctor grinned with delight. “You’re good at games. Maybe one day, you’ll be a Gamemaker like me.”

“If the Games continue at all,” Highbottom added.

“Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow’s in that zoo. And I came here to ask your star mentor a question: what are The Hunger Games for?”

This sparked an argument between Dr. Gaul, Highbottom, Coriolanus, and Sejanus. Bellova listened, intrigued. This was the most interesting thing that had happened during one of Highbottom’s lectures since the time Persephone and Arachne almost ripped each other’s heads off over a petty dispute. 

Coriolanus then proposed an idea, about making the games more “personal” for Capitol citizens. 

“We need them to invest,” he said. “And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets. Look, I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena. But if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul looked at him. “I’d like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow.”

“Wait,” Clemensia Dovecote spoke up. “You mean you might actually use his ideas?”

“If it’ll help the ratings, why not?” Dr. Gaul responded.

“Coriolanus and I are class partners, Dr. Gaul,” Clemensia said hastily. “We do all of our assignments together.”

‘Someone’s desperate for approval,’ Bellova thought, giving Clemensia a brief look of annoyance.

Dr. Gaul laughed, sending a visible chill through many of the mentors. “It’ll be an interesting test.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the lecture ended, the mentors went straight to the cafeteria. They were buzzing with excitement at the idea that Dr. Gaul may listen to their suggestions. Having an idea approved by her could do wonders for their future careers.

Bellova stood in line holding a tray, eyeing the mint chocolate fudge in the dessert section. She loved mint. It reminded her of wintertime, her favorite season.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Coriolanus tapping her on the shoulder. 

“What do you want?” she asked.

Coriolanus scoffed. “Your perfect manners never cease to amaze me.”

Bellova sneered. “Funny. Now get to the point.”

“I’m going to sneak some food out of here and give it to Lucy Gray at the Zoo. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me. You haven’t met your tribute yet, after all.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, putting a few slices of bread on her plate. “Breaking the rules again? After Highbottom just threatened to write you up for insubordination?”

“You were the one who told me to do anything it takes to succeed.”

“Fair enough,” she sighed. “Fine, I’ll come with you. I’ll give my tribute some bread while we’re there.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Who’s breaking rules now?”

Bellova gave him a look. “I’ll see you at the Zoo, Coryo.” With that, she grabbed a stack of mint chocolate fudge slices and walked off to join her friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon, Coriolanus, Bellova, and a handful of the other mentors met up at the Capitol Zoo. They immediately made their way to the monkey exhibit, where the tributes were being held. Nodding at the Peacekeepers surrounding the area, they stood inches away from the bars keeping them separated from the district children.

Bellova scanned the exhibit and eventually spotted her tribute in the corner. “Velvereen!” she called. The girl made her way over to the bars, looking at Bellova warily.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m your mentor, Bellova. Here, I brought some bread for you.” She held out the napkin to Velvereen, who took it instantly. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to visit earlier. I have a busy schedule.”

Velvereen said nothing, focusing on wolfing down the bread. 

“So,” Bellova continued. “Have you talked to any of the other tributes?”

“Not besides Facet,” she said, pointing to the male District 1 tribute. “Oh, and the singer girl. The one with the strange dress.”

Bellova glanced over at Lucy Gray, who was talking very intimately with Coriolanus. She fought back a look of irritation. Lucy Gray was certainly a spectacle, but she was clearly deranged. She couldn’t understand why Coriolanus was so fascinated with her, other than her extremely strange behavior. 

“I see,” Bellova said. “Well, I promise to visit more often if I can. My advice to you is to make allies. The more that you have, the better your chance of survival is.” 

Velvereen nods. “I know. That’s what my father told me.” 

Bellova gave her a small smile. “It’s good to know that you have a basic understanding of strategy.”

She looked to her left, and saw Arachne taunting her tribute with a glass bottle. “Arachne!“ she hissed. “What the hell are you doing?“

“Shut up, Bellova!” Arachne snapped. “Mind your own business.”

“Fine!” Bellova snapped back. She and Velvereen continued discussing the Games. She was thankful that her tribute was willing to converse, unlike several, who refused to interact with their mentors. But as much as she tried to focus on her tribute, she felt her eyes wander to Coriolanus and Lucy Gray, who seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. It seemed as if her odd charms were beginning to rub off on the young Snow as well. If she hadn’t been surrounded by so many Capitol citizens, she would’ve been tempted to grab Lucy Gray by the hair and slam her head against the metal bars of the enclosure. 

Her violent fantasy was abruptly halted by a chorus of screams. 

Brandy, Arachne’s tribute, had grabbed her mentor by the neck and snatched the bottle from her. “Help!” Arachne shrieked, trying desperately to escape her grasp. Before anyone could do anything, Brandy smashed the bottle against the metal bars of the cage, and used the serrated edge to stab her in the neck. 

“No, no, no!” Coriolanus screamed, rushing towards Arachne, who lay on the ground, convulsing in pain as the crowd screamed frantically around them. He gathered the girl in his arms, putting his hand to her throat, trying to stop the blood flow. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Hold on. Hold on!”

Arachne gasped for air, blood oozing from her neck. Bellova crouched down at her side, turning her head to face her.  “Hey, look at me. Hey, hold on! It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ll get help, I promise.” 

“Somebody help us, please!” Coriolanus yelled at the crowd. 

Chaos erupted, making the whole scene a blur. Brandy was shot by Peacekeepers, falling to the ground with a thud. The other tributes were screaming wildly, ducking away to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. 

Coriolanus and Bellova were eventually dragged away from Arachne, who was lifted onto a stretcher. They were escorted by Peacekeepers out of the Zoo and back onto Academy grounds. Once inside a quiet hallway, they collapsed onto the ground side by side, finally able to process what had just happened.

Bellova, who almost never showed any emotion besides smugness, anger, or contempt in Coriolanus’s presence, began to cry. Her head swam with terror and disgust, the sight of Arachne’s slit throat burned into her mind. She was never close to the girl, she found her to be shallow and hated her whining. But they had grown up together. She was part of the Capitol’s finest, meaning they had attended several events together over the years and visited each other’s homes regularly. And now, she was gone. 

“I should’ve done more to stop her,” she said, voice trembling uncontrollably. “She was being stupid, and I just let her keep doing it! Her blood is on my fucking hands! It’s all my fault!”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Coriolanus spoke up. “Blame the district girl. She was the one who did it.” 

“I know, I know,” Bellova cried, black mascara running down her face, ruining her perfect face of makeup. “But she’s dead too. I can’t even avenge Arachne by killing her. There’s nothing I can do.”

Coriolanus, who had finally stopped shaking, pulled Bellova into his side gently. He put his arm around her, rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. “You’re safe now. This won’t ever happen again, the Capitol will tighten security tenfold.”

Without thinking, Bellova leaned into Coriolanus’s grasp. He patiently let her cry into his shoulder, while he tried to help steady her breathing. The two young students clung to each other, forgetting all of their past grievances in that moment. 

When they finally pulled away, they looked at each other, as if they were stunned at their own actions. Neither of them were affectionate towards each other, or affectionate people in general. Yet here they were, sitting on the cold marble floor of the Academy, comforting each other. 

Bellova cleared her throat. “We should probably get out of here. Let the administrators know that we’re going home early.” 

Coriolanus nodded, standing up and holding out his hand to help her up. Bellova took it, smiling ever-so slightly. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. 

“Of course,” Coriolanus replied. 

They informed the staff that they’d be departing early. Nobody tried to stop them, understanding that they’d just been through a traumatic event. They walked down the steps of the Academy’s main building, standing near the curb.

Finally, Bellova broke the silence. “Let me take you back to your apartment. My driver will be here any minute.” Before Coriolanus could protest, she said, “You’re in no condition to walk that far. I know you always say you walk to and from school to clear your mind, but just let me do this for you. Please?”

“Fine,” Coriolanus said reluctantly. 

As they sat in the back of Bellova’s chauffeur’s car, neither of them said a word to each other. The death of Arachne had clearly rattled them both to the core, but they couldn’t bring themselves to talk about it. It still all felt like a nightmare. 

Bellova took a small compact and handkerchief out of her bag, using the cloth to wipe away the black stains her tears had left behind. She pressed some foundation over it, erasing any evidence of a breakdown. 

Coriolanus watched her, realizing that he’d likely never see her this vulnerable again. He was still surprised that she didn’t slap him for embracing her. They certainly had a unique relationship. Often times they were at each other’s throats, occasionally they exchanged words of advice and encouragement. But nevertheless, he didn’t want to see her so hurt. She was…a friend? A companion? Something other than a stranger, for sure. 

They pulled up outside of Coriolanus’s apartment complex, and Bellova’s driver opened the door for him. 

Coriolanus turned to Bellova, who was staring down at her hands. “Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Bellova said, looking up to give him a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Coryo.”

“See you tomorrow, Bellova.”

And with one last nod, Coriolanus shut the door behind him, returning to his run-down apartment where Tigris and Grandma’am were waiting.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy

Author’s Note: This chapter was a lot longer than the last one lolll I really liked writing this part because things become a lot more intense. Let me know in the comments what you think and if you’d like to be tagged!

[ofallthethingsabove]

HUSBAND CORIOLANUS BLURB

Rating: M

WARNINGS: Snow being Snow

There was something about the rush of adrenaline that burst through you when you heard the news that made it undeniable that you were wicked, deplorable.

"I'll be working closely on the Games for next year, alone it would seem", Coriolanus had said over dinner, casually cutting the chicken into small bites, ignoring the look that you knew was etching into your features.

"Hmm, good, it seems your intellect is finally being put to deserving use", you respond delicately, taking in a brief yet deep breath before sipping your wine.

That called his eyes to you, and what he saw made him realize just how loyal you were to him, how dutiful you were. He made a note that evening that you would be his wife.

And his wife you became. Wife to Head Gamemaker, turned wife to President of Panem. The thought of how the girls that pretended to be your friend in the Academy must have been clawing their skin made you smile, just as much as your dear friends' support did.

"You are so lucky", they said. "He's handsome and frighteningly intelligent. He be must be so devoted to you."

Truly, they had no idea how frightening he could be. Only you knew the extent of the pleasure he took in having power, having control. It made him feel less like the frightened boy you fell in love with.

However, the night of your wedding, you saw that boy again, just for a moment. He was in the gentle touches Coriolanus left on your skin, the adoration of his lips against yours. He left praises in his wake, sweet promises of a life of peace for the both of you.

"You might be the only person who sees me", he had said, breath still catching as he held your naked body close to him.

You left a kiss on his cheek in response, eyes meeting his in a quiet moment of intimacy.

That was the last night you saw Coryo in him. The world wasn't a place for him anymore. Coriolanus was becoming colder by the year, and he only seemed to warm in the arms of lust. Tigris all but stopped attending dinners, a look you knew well ever present on her face: shame.

Indeed, you were the only person who saw him, and that wasn't enough. He needed your obedience. He needed you to take his racing mind from him and make it still. And so you did, like a good wife. You let him have you whenever he wanted. You played the game by his rules. You were his to do with however he saw fit.

[charlescoded]

i am screaming crying begging on my knees for you to pls pls tell me more about the nogitsune au, the doll au, the bracelet au, the hunger games au, the black widow au and the vampire au pls 🙏🙏🙏

oh boy, that's a lot of aus!!! i'll start with the hunger games because that's my next big project! i've got about 1k for it, but i'm still outlining it bc she's a biggg girl, and maybe bigger than dune 2 lmao. anyway, hope you like the ideas <3

HUNGER GAMES AU born in a rich family from district 8, charles volunteers for the games when arthur's name gets picked, but he's not ready to lay down and die, he's willing to be ruthless, willing to kill if he has to, everything to stay alive. and max... max is the head gamemaker who's putting him through everything, but he might be the exact person charles needs to survive!

NOGITSUNE AU teen wolf au where charles is a hunter, and max is a werewolf. they're from rivalling families who have a tentative truce going on against other threats, and one of those threats is a nogitsune who possesses max (the nogitsune gives up his powers to be able to possess a wolf), who wants to find a host for his wife. and he goes after charles <3

DOLL AU in a futuristic world, some people become 'dolls', emotionless humans without any control, drugged and brainwashed, made perfect, used for different purposes. charles is one of those dolls, so very pretty, but without any freedom, locked in a body that obeys every command given. but is max the officer that saved him and is trying to help him, or the guy who's responsible for his state, im not sure...

BRACELET AU dead dove. charles accepts a bracelet from a fan without realising the malicious intent behind it. when he talks about a secret that could ruin his career/life, the bracelet records it and gives his stalker, max, leverage to control charles however he pleases...

BLACK WIDOW AU charles is a known black widow, but he's gorgeous, so sweet, so perfect. they still want him, even tho he always ends up killing his husbands when they inevitably start to bore him. he goes after max, exactly the type he's looking for, rich, hot, good in bed, and marries him. and then he starts to get bored, gets ready to kill him, only to realise too late that max is trying to kill him too <3

VAMPIRE AU max and charles grew up together, and then one day, max died, killed by a vampire. charles came from a hunter family and feels guilty, and then years later, he comes across max again while hunting down a nest. he kidnaps him, accuses him of being a vampire, except... max is older, he's alive, and he won't answer charles' questions, so charles is determined to figure out what happened, if max is a thrall and under someone's control, but most importantly, he feels responsible to keep max alive this time...

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

do you plan on watching the hunger games prequel? it's got rachel zegler and viola davis, though it sees like the latter is playing the antagonist

I am planning on seeing the sequel even though I don't agree with casting Viola Davis as Dr. Volumnia Gaul. Like don't get me wrong here because it's been two years since I read the book but I don't remember her being Black?

The problem with Dr Gaul being Black imho is that she's basically the one that mentors Coriolanus Snow. Like I'm not saying she makes him the monster he is in the later series... that's all on Snow.

Like here's my headcanon on how Dr. Gaul got to be so cold and calculating. She's a scientist right? Got her doctorate and everything. To me she seemed more like Johanna Mason where she'd already lost everyone and then you add the civil war to the mix maybe she just lost all sense of compassion???

This is gonna get long and there's gonna be discussions of spoilers from the book and the movie below the cut. Please know that there's discussions of torture and child murder appropriate to the hunger games franchise also below the cut.

I'll start at the beginning here. the wiki describes Dr. Gaul as being the indirect creator of the Hunger Games because crassus snow and casca highbottom only came up with the proposal for the hunger games as an assignment. (I'm not getting into specifics here please reference the wiki if you want to place blame on just one person), Like the hunger games were a group effort to be sure.

The real problem here is the phrasing of the ask. Dr. Gaul may be partly responsible for the Hunger Games and for mentoring Coriolanus Snow but she's not the antagonist. The real antagonist was and is the state which implemented and continues to perpetuate the hunger games.

To phrase Dr. Gaul (Davis) as the antagonist washes Coriolanus Snow of his instincts which are entitlement and believing he deserves the good life. its what leads him to cause the death of his friend and take his place in his family.

we know that Dr. Gaul is called a cruel woman but we don't know what makes her cruel or how she arrived at that cruelty. She's certainly not evil incarnate and it's actually Crassus Snow who turned in that assignment he didn't have to you know? I'm not absolving Dr. Gaul at all but I know people are going to woobify Coriolanus because the actor is white and blond.

They're going to blame everything Coriolanus Snow does on Dr. Gaul's mentorship. But like... Corio was already messed up and he could have chosen a happy life in district 12 with Lucy or run away even but he didn't want that he wanted a life of power and wealth.

I'm basically seeing this movie in theaters because I want to see if the movie makes the misogynoir implicit in Dr. Gaul's casting explicit. And by that I mean, will the movie absolve Corio of his own motivations for turning on his friend and Lucy and instead make Dr. Gaul responsible for it? because I can already tell you that's what the fandom is gonna do.

anyways its gonna be a shit show and the casting directors shouldn't have cast a darkskinned black woman as Dr. Gaul even if I forgot that she was written that way. (which tbh I'm not sure if she is Black in the book), Its a very colorblind racist way of casting.

mod ali

[shadowqueenjude]

What transpired between the end of TBOSAS and the epilogue? Part 2 (part 1 here)

Coriolanus nervously smoothed down his suit. It had a plum jacket with a white shirt, black bowtie, and the white rose from his grandmother’s garden. They had just moved back into their ancestral home two days back, while the Plinths were still arranging their move to the apartment beneath their own. It all felt so surreal. Just a month ago, he had been desperate for even a small percentage of the Plinth fortune, and now it was all…his.

Stolen. You stole this money. It should’ve been Sejanus’s. Murderer.

Coriolanus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control the emotions swirling through him and failing to do so. His breaths came harder and faster, and he placed his hands onto the dining table, trying to get more air. “Coryo!” Tigris cried, rushing over to his side. She grabbed his cheeks and turned his face toward her. “It’s not real. I’m here. Breathe. Breathe.”

Slowly but surely, Coriolanus began to calm down. All wasn’t lost. He still had Tigris. He had the Plinths now. And, much as she got on her nerves sometimes, he had Grandma’am.

He wasn’t alone.

Tigris stroked Coriolanus’s cheek with her thumb. “That’s it. You’re going to University, and you’re going to ace it like you ace everything. Snow lands on top.”

Coriolanus laughed weakly. Despite ample amounts of money being dropped into his lap, he felt far from the top. “Snow lands on top,” he answered anyway.

The first day of school would be pretty straightforward. He had the Gamemaker internship in the morning followed by genetics class and a special honors class in military strategy. Apparently, this class was taught by Dr. Gaul herself, and freshman typically weren’t allowed but an exception had been made for him. Coriolanus felt both pleased and alarmed at this special treatment; one, he was being put into the advanced class, which was a good thing, but two, he was being singled out by Dr. Gaul. And seeing what had happened to him over the past year or so, being singled out by Dr. Gaul was never a good thing. How many more games did she intend to play with him before she finally killed him?

Perhaps he was being melodramatic, but Dr. Gaul had sent him into the arena unsure whether he’d live or die. He felt like one of those mutts in her science lab: a particularly interesting experiment, but replaceable should something better come along.

Well, he’d better do a sure job of being irreplaceable then.

No more public transport for Coriolanus; one of the Plinths’ private drivers (how ridiculous ) took him to school in a suave car. Coriolanus should be enjoying the opulence, but all he could think of was how selling this car could’ve paid the house taxes, could’ve provided the family with ample meals for months and months, could’ve bought him some decent-looking clothes to last for the school year.

The thoughts made him want to spit in the car, but then he thought about how high the cleaning bill would be, and he controlled himself.

When they arrived at the University, Coriolanus took a moment to take it all in. The campus was large and glamorous, the buildings looking old-fashioned in an off-white color. There was a clocktower that reminder him of something he’d once seen in a history book. The doors were grand and round on top, made of a dark wood that made them look rather imposing.

Coriolanus nervously smoothed down his suit again. He just remembered his hair was shorn. He could do this. He was ready. Just ignore the nasty stares, deflect from the nosy questions, and smile winningly in response.

His new shoes shone in the sunlight as he ascended the steps into his new school. He looked like an entirely new person from last year. He probably was an entirely new person. Coriolanus looked back once at the Plinth car before opening the door and walking inside.

He pulled out the neatly folded paper in his pocket, scanning it for the internship room. C472. He scanned some of the rooms near him. A104. Drat. He’d probably have to go up a couple more staircases then.

Thanks to his Peacekeeper training, Coriolanus had little difficulty moving up the stairs. He strolled through the halls, searching for the correct room. C396, C398, then…huh. Then it goes to C230 on the other side. Confusing building. If Coriolanus were to design a building, he’d never make it this convoluted.

At last, Coriolanus found the room. It had two double doors unlike the other rooms, which let him know that it was probably a lot larger than the others.

He quietly opened the door, but it still creaked enough that he winced. Thankfully, no one glanced his way. He found himself in an atrium with several different groups huddled in different corners, already in deep discussion. Coriolanus stood there for a moment, unsure of where to go, when a tall, well-dressed man with slicked back grey hair and a foot more height than Coriolanus offered his hand. “Hello. You’re the Snow kid, right? Our new intern.”

Everyone here was much older, Coriolanus realized with a hint of trepidation. But the man in front of him smiled assuredly at him, his crow’s feet visible as he grinned. “You’re the youngest intern we’ve had since inception! You must be a brilliant kid. No surprise, considering your old man. God bless his soul.”

Coriolanus relaxed even as his heart swelled at the praise. “Thank you sir. It is an honor to be here.” He clasped the man’s hand, swallowing his cringe at the layer of sweat on the man’s hand. “I’m Dr. Adonis Fling. It’s nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”

Coriolanus blinked. A fan of him? But what could he possibly be talking about? Coriolanus took a shot in the dark. “You speak of my mentor performance during the tenth Hunger Games?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Adonis said, leading Coriolanus by his hand to his work station. “The stunt at the monkey exhibit? Masterful. The interview song? Perfection. Your idea for gifts in the arena? Inspired! Your love story? Heartwarming. You’ve done more for the games in one year than all of us in a decade. You revolutionized it. You made it a spectacle.” He gestured to Coriolanus’s buzz cut. “And you did a stint as a Peacekeeper as punishment for your heroics in the games?” A throaty chuckle. “Truly you have so much insight to offer us.” Coriolanus swallowed his words.

It wasn’t an act. None of it was an act.

“Thank you, Dr. Fling. To be quite truthful, very little of it was planned. Much of it occurred as a result of spur-of-the-moment thinking.”

“And that’s exactly why it came across as so authentic! Truly ingenious! A masterpiece! Rumor has it you even went into the arena yourself! We’d love to hear of your experience!” Dr. Fling exclaimed.

Flashbacks to the rabid tributes chasing him, to smashing that District 8 tribute’s head, echoed in his mind. “I’d be happy to give you the full story some other time,” Coriolanus said smoothly, trying to escape this conversation. “So what am I to do here?”

Dr. Fling clasped a hand on Coriolanus’s shoulder. “Oh all in good time, Mr. Snow! The first couple of weeks, you’ll mainly be watching. But since you’ve already been integral to the games, we’d love to hear any suggestions you have to make it better!”

Truthfully, Coriolanus would be happy to never think about the Hunger Games again. Thinking of the Hunger Games meant thinking of his girl, his victor, his lost love fluttering in the breeze. The woman he’d imagined a future with, children with, betraying him by running away. All over one lie. His eyes stung before he’d even realized he’d become lost in his thoughts. Shit. He was going to embarrass himself on his first day.

“Apologies, sir. Thinking of the games makes me very emotional,” Coriolanus muttered, trying to chase away his panic. Dr. Fling looked him over sympathetically. “Yes, it’s all too brutal and real, isn’t it? That experience is exactly why you’ll be such a major asset to the team. You really get what it’s all about.”

Coriolanus cleared his throat, recalling that Lucy Gray’s family was too poor to even store ice and the corruption in his girl being chosen for the games. “Well one thing I suggest changing is the way the tributes are chosen. You see, my gi- I mean, my tribute was chosen in an unfair manner. Her ex-boyfriend Billy Taupe was newly dating the mayor’s daughter, and they conspired to get her reaped. That isn’t really in the spirit of the games, now is it? If this is to be a reminder of the war, well war doesn’t discriminate. So, it should be randomized. Every district child ages 12-16 has a chance to be reaped.” Dr. Fling nodded along, scribbling some notes down on his scratchpad. “Excellent suggestion! Anything else?”

“Yes. There should be added incentive to participate in the games. All children of the Hunger Games age range will have at least one name in the drawing jar, but they should have the option to add their name multiple times in exchange for food stuffs and other basic necessities. I’ve seen how poor they are back there; it’s a risk many would be willing to take.”

“Excellent, Mr. Snow. You’re going to do wonderful here.”

It was strange to go by that name. Mr. Snow was his father, not him. It was even stranger to be compared to him. They were similar in likeness, but Coriolanus didn’t imagine they were that similar in personality. But he was going to have to get used to it: the comparisons and that name.

The first day of the internship passed swimmingly. Coriolanus watched as the Gamemakers outlined what was to be the first Victory tour, discussing activities and locations in each district to visit. There was also the selection of the following year’s arena to consider; after the previous year’s bombings, the idea of building an entirely new Hunger Games arena was not off the table.

However, once the internship ended, Coriolanus was once again feeling nervous. He was going to see his classmates from the Academy for the first time in months, and he had no idea what rumors had been swirling about him in the meantime.

He pressed his handkerchief to his forehead, wiping the sweat away. With a jolt, he got a whiff of Lucy Gray’s scent on it. Great. He just so happened to choose one of the handkerchiefs she’d touched.

Coriolanus couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think beyond the realization that Lucy Gray was gone gone gone-

Who was he kidding? How could she survive in the forest? Chances were she was probably dead.

Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead-

Coriolanus ran to the end of the hall where there was a window. He grunted as he shoved the window up, and he threw up over the side.

He didn’t know how to stop the panic attacks. He had started taking sleeping pills at night to get dreamless sleep because Lucy Gray and on occasion Sejanus haunted him there. Perhaps he’d have to go to the doctor afterwards. He made a note in his planner to schedule an appointment.

At last, he made his way towards his first class, which took place in an entirely different building: Ravinstill Hall.

He saw a few students exit from cars nearly as extravagant as the Plinth car around the same time he walked towards the entrance. This building, at least, seemed a lot more modern than the others.

As soon as Coriolanus walked inside the building, he found a huge crowd gathered around him. Felix Ravinstill, who he’d hardly ever interacted with, was up in his face. “Woah, Coriolanus, nice haircut!” he yelled. Walking talking anger issues Urban Canville was scowling at him. “So it’s true that you were a Peacekeeper. Or was the buzz just to go with the rumors?” Urban looked Coriolanus up and down. “You don’t look tough enough to be a peacekeeper.”

Try me and I’ll show you how tough I can be, Coriolanus thought, but more and more faces surrounded him.

“Did you bring Lucy Gray with you?”

“How are you here? Weren’t you expelled?”

Then, to Coriolanus’s utter horror, Livia Cardew’s mousy brown hair was right in front of him. Coriolanus prayed to gods he did not believe in to get this psychopath off of him. He cringed away as her nose grazed his chin, wishing for a moment that the snake in District 12 had truly been poisonous. “The short hair suits you, Coryo,” Livia purred, and Coriolanus genuinely thought he was going to vomit again, this time all over her. Were it not for the embarrassment it would cause him, he genuinely wouldn’t mind at all.

Oh, all of a sudden she cared for him? All that time laughing about his poverty, erased simply because Coriolanus was something new, wealthy, and interesting now. Fucking hypocrite. God did he despise her with all of his heart.

“Coriolanus!” Coriolanus heard a voice call from the crowd faintly. “Clemmie!” Coriolanus boomed loudly, shoving through the crowd towards her. He saw her lovely black hair fighting for purchase in the crowd as well until they finally met in the middle and embraced.

“You are my hero today,” Coriolanus murmured against her ear. “For a moment, I was afraid Livia would eat me alive.”

Clemensia Dovecote laughed, rubbing her hand against his back. “Not on my watch.” She offered her arm, and Coriolanus linked his with hers. “Genetics class?” Coriolanus asked her. She nodded. “Yes. Shall we?” Together, they walked to class, heads high as the crowd behind them continued to murmur and point.

They sat next to each other in the second row from the front. “What have they been saying about me?” Coriolanus asked her out of the corner of her mouth. She whispered back, “Scattered rumors. They say you followed your heart to your victor, Lucy Gray, and you dropped out of school to be with her. They say you were a Peacekeeper out there in the districts. Some claim you were expelled. No one really knows the truth.”

Coriolanus blinked. The rumors were…pretty damn close to the truth, actually. Too close. “It’s a combination of the three, actually,” he admitted. “I was expelled for cheating to help Lucy Gray win the games, which I did because I was in love with her. As a punishment, I was forced to serve as a Peacekeeper in the districts. But then Dr. Gaul brought me back, because apparently this was all some kind of experiment to her. It makes me uncomfortable, like I’m a mutt in her little science lab. Please don’t tell anyone I told you this, though.” Clemmie’s eyes flashed at the mention of Dr. Gaul, but otherwise there was no reaction. She seemed back to normal, signs of the snake bites gone, back to her pretty, bubbly self.

She mimed sealing her lips shut. “Not a soul.” Coriolanus smiled at her. In light of his recent losses, it felt better than ever to have Clemensia here with him. Their friendship had had rough patches, but here they were after it all, closer than ever.

This class would be easy, especially with Clemensia around. It was Dr. Gaul’s class that he had to worry about.

[slate-skylar]

The cannon had gone off and Helios's body had been lifted from the Arena. There were five left; his alliance, and Mars. Mars, who he was sure must know about what he'd done to Ezra; it had to be obvious, it had to be written across his face, right?

Mars, who would like to take revenge. Who would like to kill him and the rest of his alliance. His friends. To take the crown for herself.

He moved toward the beach, determined to find the others, having been separated from them since the storm had swept them all away. When he got to the shore, he saw the ghost ship, which he'd caught glimpses of from the other island as well. He hadn't been close enough then to hear the sounds coming from it -- speaking, moaning almost.

Maybe it was Gamemaker design that he only heard these words: "The treasure we’ve stolen can be yours to take."

Suddenly, he felt sure that was where the girls were; it was a ship, after all, though it probably held its fair amount of dangers if it had just appeared out of nowhere and now boasted treasure.

Getting there was easy once he found the rowboat, and he made it out to the ship, scraping his hands on barnacles and nearly slipping off the rope ladder several times due to its sliminess, and climbed aboard -- just as he saw that someone else had also made their way here.

The last person he wanted to see: Mars.

He climbed over the railing and was on the deck, looking at her, then sweeping his eyes across the scene in front of him -- skeletons, actual fucking glowing, creepy-ass skeletons, swarmed the deck. They had turned on his and Mars's approach, and were now facing the two tributes. There was a moment of silence, but it didn't last long; the first skeleton attacked, and he saw that another had done the same to her. Its sword swung through the air and he dodged it, always good at dodging -- punches, Peacekeeper batons, responsibilities -- and pulled his dagger from his waistband, ready to defend. He kept an eye on Mars, who was only a few feet away, but was herself now occupied with a fight.

@marswakes

[sirensorisons]

What do you think is entailed in a Victors responsibilities after winning the hunger games?

Do you have any headcanon?

Thank you so much.

@curiousnonny

starting off recounting what we know from the books:

first they have to watch the recap of their games, attend the victory banquet at the president's mansion that same evening, and have one more interview with caesar the next morning.

after that they get to go home, but there's another banquet with high-ranking members of their district, the district holiday (everyone gets the day off work, with food and entertainers from the capitol for their perusal), and the first monthly parcel day. (my headcanon is that the victor only has to attend the first.)

then they move into victors' village and pick up a talent or hobby, which they'll be interviewed about several months later, just before they embark on the victory tour, which is of course explained in catching fire

now here's where my headcanons pick up. this is all stuff i cover in alaib! but i'm only outlining stuff here that isn't explicitly stated in the books. (this is so, so long.)

if a victor is chosen to mentor the following year, they'll get notified anywhere from a couple months to only a couple days in advance.

on reaping day, the mentor(s) will stop at the justice building to meet with the mayor, who will give them the capitol's written instructions. this includes a timetable for the week leading up to the games, and a dense list explaining their responsibilities and ethical guidelines. (more on that later.)

if there's more than one mentor in this district, then they have to decide before the reaping which of them will mentor which tribute.

while the tributes are saying their goodbyes in the justice building, the mentors have free rein as long as they make it back to the train before the hour is up. failure to do so results in an armed peacekeeper response.

naturally, the mentor is responsible for helping their tribute(s) strategize and guiding them through the pre-games process. while tributes are in prep on the day of the parade, the mentor will meet with their district's stylists, but they hardly get any say about the chariot costumes due to time constraints.

mentors aren't allowed to go into the city alone without a capitol escort-- preferably their own, but another district's escort can fill in otherwise. the one exception to this rule are victors who are being sex trafficked, because the leverage the capitol holds over them is enough that they're certain to behave. (this also ensures that escorts remain ignorant of the darker side of the games.)

for the three days that tributes are in training, mentors and escorts visit various locations around the city like bars or casinos to canvass on their tributes' behalf, and the escort schedules meetings with sponsors (usually over meals) to sign documents and formally pledge their support.

the games themselves:

the mentors and escorts take their places in the bullpen, an underground level of the tribute center - mentors at tables separated by district, and escorts at benches along the walls. mentors with tributes in pre-arranged alliances will usually touch base during this time; career mentors tend to sit apart at their tables separated by district, but for other alliances, mentors might drag chairs over and sit together so they can coordinate sponsor gifts.

the head gamemaker and their assistants come through before the games begin to hand out communicuffs and earpieces. communicuffs can be used to access your tribute's location on a map of the arena, scroll through the sponsor catalogue, send gifts, and track funds. the earpieces can be used to make urgent calls to sponsors, or tune into audio of your tribute's personalized feed. if your tribute dies, your screen will flatline like a heart monitor, and you'll lose access to its features. solo mentors have separate profiles for each tribute, so if one dies, they'll still have access to the device through the other profile.

ordering an item on the sponsor catalogue only puts through a request to the gamemakers, which can either be approved or denied, so the final say is out of the mentor's hands. escorts don't have clearance to send gifts, so if a tribute needs anything while the mentor is away, the mentor has to be called in to handle it.

the mentors' ethical guidelines, as they exist in my fic, are supposed to be kind of ridiculous and hypocritical, so it's a common source of inside jokes among the mentors. i haven't written out all the rules because it's funnier to leave it open-ended so i can add to it whenever an opportunity presents itself, but this is what i have established:

mentors aren't allowed to exchange sex for sponsorship. there's even a list of disallowed sex acts in section 201A, but there are loopholes.

there are also rules against "fraternization among mentors", which even extends to flirting, but this is rarely enforced

mentors also can't pay each other (section 45D)

between games:

if they mentor a tribute to victory, they'll be obligated to go along on the victory tour. if they were the only victor in their district before this, they might be expected to guide the new victor through the mentoring process as well; if not, any other victor in their district could do so.

every time there's a new victor from their district, they'll be expected to attend the victors' banquet in said district, welcoming the new victor to the upper echelon of society.

if a tribute from another district won that year, you might still be invited to your justice building for a banquet during your stop on their tour. (the one exception to this was the victory tour for the 74th games.)

if they're stuck being sex trafficked, they might get invited (forced) to go to the capitol sporadically throughout the year to work, depending on their popularity.

[heavensbeehall]

"Mockingjay", Chapter 16

Part 2: The Assault

Chapter 16: Katniss comes back to consciousness (again!) after being shot and remembers the "Stay with me"/"Always" exchange with Peeta from the second book. Johanna Mason--what a queen--shows up to steal some drugs from Katniss. Johanna is addicted to "morphling" now, but in a fun way. Katniss and Gale fight about killing people but District 2 is now in Rebellion hands. Even though she lost a spleen, Katniss is made to return to work. Plutarch talks about "Panem et Circenses" for all the English teachers in the audience. Annie and Finnick are getting married! Katniss is stunned when the cake is wheeled out and it was obviously made by Peeta, who has been getting better after his first breakthrough. At midnight she goes to talk to him (and I have questions about why the staff at 13 is all around at midnight but they are not addressed. Perhaps they wanted a good Hanging Tree reference for this uncomfortable encounter). Peeta is pissy which I will allow since she was tortured for weeks. He sees Katniss through a new lens. She thinks it's "the truth" because she hates herself and is depressed and clearly needs medication--not to the responsibility of a rebellion. But it's more like he sees her through Snow's eyes now. (That women are not to be trusted and love makes you weak.)

Thoughts:

-- This book depresses me a bit and my own mental health hasn't been great lately. I should remind myself there is more Johanna. Because I really do like the part where they are roommates.

-- When Johanna calls Gale "gorgeous" and then laughs, it makes me think she is messing with him the way she did with Katniss in book 2. But I don't know if she is messing with Katniss or Gale, actually.

Quotes:

"You should have been the Mockingjay. No one would've had to feed you lines," I say. "True. But no one likes me," she tells me.

Given that Suzanne Collins has said they have tried to use previous victors (she particularly cited Finnick) as a rallying point for rebellion, I wonder if she says this from experience. The way Johanna won--by pretending for the camers--is actually quite smart. She used the game against the Gamemakers. Her "act" would be mostly in things we know Snow added to the Hunger Games--the interviews, the betting odds etc. If they had just thrown her into an arena, like 1-10th, then this would not be possible to do. Nor do I think crying or being sad to fight to the death is abnormal. We have seen Lamina (also a female tribute from 7) portrayed as somewhat weak during her Games but be mentally tough. I imagine it was easy to dismiss Johanna. But then when she won, it seems (as with many reality shows) she was not lauded for her cleverness but instead portrayed as a liar and a bitch.

Does anyone have strong headcanons about Johanna? For some reason, I assume she had siblings that were killed. Possibly because of how she interacts with Katniss and Finnick, like she is used to having someone close to her who is her age. But that person or persons is gone now.

Somehow staging some perverse wedding between Peeta and me. I haven't been able to face that one-way glass since I've been back and, at my own request, only get updates about Peeta's condition from Haymitch. He speaks very little about it. Different techniques are being tried. There will never truly be a way to cure him.And now they want me to marry Peeta for a propo?

I read a fanfic about this once. Anyway, you will note that Katniss instinctively assumes Plutarch will use her the same way Snow did which doesn't reassure me much about Plutarch's vibes.

... the music is provided by a choir of children accompanied by the lone fiddler who made it out of 12 with his instrument...

We think this is Clerk Carmine's fiddle, yes? I don't know where you would buy a new instrument in 12.

Sure enough, Greasy Sae grabs Gale by the hand and pulls him into the center of the floor and faces off with him

Get it, Greasy Sae! (I do not necessarily hold to the theory that Lucy Gray is Greasy Sae, but I do think--since she sells her wares at the Hob and has been around awhile, she would probably know the most about the Covey. I'd love to interview her for my fictional documentary about the history of the Hunger Games.)

"I must have loved you a lot."

I would like to think that Peeta need not be "in love" with Katniss to give her some bread. It's very "Snow-like" to assume that he would only do that if he was in love with her, and the love was like tricking him into something (which I think is how he comes to see everything he did for Lucy Gray, as some grand manipulation) when it's just normal to not like seeing someone else suffer.

[maytheoddshq]

Keres Lancaster (she/her). Gamemaker. Forty-eight. Laura Linney.

Growing up in District One was golden. The district of luxury, home of the finest commodities that could be sold to the Capitol. Often, one felt one step away from true grandeur. Keres was no different. Her father traveled often to the Capitol, telling her of its grandness. Growing up, she knew she would end up there one day.

Her childhood was far from perfect. A distant father who traveled often. A mother who could care less, more absorbed in the image, the luxury. Keres detested her mother, a woman she considered vapid, unambitious. It was her father who fostered the ember within her, to be more than some Capitolites wife. It was he who had seen what lingered behind his daughters eyes, the raw ambition. Attending the Academy, Keres strove to make him proud. She became ruthless not just in her words but in her actions too. One day, she was sure, everyone would know her name. 

When the rebellion happened, Keres was 17 years old. At first, it had not bothered her. After all, things would sizzle out, they always did. Discontent was not new. Sore losers had always existed, the outer districts angry at their own ineptitudes. It was their fault at all that the games existed, they continued to fester and push against the generosity of the Capitol. What did they think would happen if they struck out on their own? Success. No, society would collapse. So often were rebellions focused on having a winner that they rarely thought about what came next. It was easy to fight. It was harder to rule.

Then, her father was killed. The only person she thought understood her, the person who encouraged her, who she admired. Killed by rebels when he had gone to try to settle things down. No tears had come from her eyes when they told her, when they brought him back to be buried. President Snow - the elder, not Nerissa - had been there. The rebellion had been squashed, sure, but at what cost? 

Throwing herself into training, Keres became hell bent with a single mission. The next Hunger Games would be won by her. No rebel would be allowed to claim victory, to show their resilience, to claim that they had any ground to stand on. No, they would be shown the might of One, the power that they held. How even after killing an influential man in the rebellion, his daughter would avenge. She had told Snow this, when they stood in the overcast graveyard. The only response was a smile, a firm hand on her shoulder, and a solid nod. The only blessing she needed.

[CW: blood, death] Everyone knew that the 76th Hunger Games would be something for the record books, after the unrest that had happened. An eighteen year old Keres had known as well, but had still proudly stepped up when it came time to ask for volunteers. No one dared challenge her, knowing that she was a chosen Tribute. Top of her class in the Academy, and with a brutal streak to her predicated on revenge, she had gone into her games with a mission. 

Keres fought with a traditional one-handed sword and dagger. A brutal machine, her Arena catered to her nature. Tall corn-fields, blocking the view of anyone except for designated high spots which one could look out from and watch others. The cornucopia in the middle, towers here and there. The only source of food was the corn, and the only water was from its kernels or from the cornucopia itself. Immediately, Keres and the Career pack had taken over the Cornucopia, using it as a vantage point to see out across the fields. With the short dagger, Keres had personally gutted two tributes in the bloodbath, driving the blade into them and looking them in the eyes as they fell. 

A brutal machine, Keres put on a show for those she knew were watching. Every one of her kills was done with spectacular precision. When she did her interviews post-games, many were shocked how this young, pretty, blonde woman had single-handedly killed six tributes. At the end, with the corn splattered with blood and the wind rattling through its stalks, Keres stood there at the Cornucopia where she began, sword dug into the other tribute from One. The cannon had gone off just as she had pushed him off her blade with a smile. There was no remorse in her cold eyes, just satisfaction that she had one. Let them all see what a real victory looked like, unlike the pathetic excuse they had for a rebellion. 

[CW: sexual themes, prostitution, age-difference relationships] After her games, Keres had been the belle of the ball. A dazzling young woman with a charm and a glimmer to her eyes, from a loyal district. Easily had she assumed the mantle of the first Victor since this new iteration of the games. Speaking in interviews, she had spoken of the honor that came with her victory, how more should aspire to serve in the way she had. The splendor of what she had become. 

Many sponsors and Capitol elite wanted time to have a moment with her. When she was told what her next duty would be, her next service, Keres did not balk. Her own mother had married for wealth, before becoming a husk of a woman due to the vapid nature brought on by the drugs and her lifestyle. Keres saw nothing wrong with using her body as a weapon of its own. Snow would give her the names, and she would show up and dazzle, as she was expected. Of course, this was not just for the honor of her service to Panem, no. Every little bit along the way, she was able to advance her own personal interests and goals. Between her activities between the sheets and as a Mentor, it was not hard to see how influential Keres became. 

Finally, she advanced another step of her plan, marrying an influential Capitolite named John Lancaster. With connections to Snow and power in the city, Keres cemented herself as a member of the aristocracy. Unlike her witless mother, however, Keres saw herself as an equal to John, and he viewed her the same. It was not a relationship borne of love, but mutual respect and ambition. A recognition that together, they could be something truly spectacular. They would attend the Capitol events together, Keres on his arm and in his ear. This connection had ended her services for Snow, but she had been offered a new role - something that made her heart which craved control sing. 

The Games are a commodity, and they are something that Keres is proud to provide. After a stint as a mentor and as Snow’s luxury to dole on preferred followers, and with her marriage to Lancaster, Keres was given a job working with the Gamemakers. Specifically, she was prized for her ability to see a vision, a product which could be marketed. Thus, Keres worked in the media side of the Hunger Games, rising through the ranks until she became Executive Producer. The camera cuts, the angles, the drama. All of it was something she directed, trying to sell the story, to show the glory and the victory of the games. 

Often, Keres sees the people on the screen as the potential stories she could tell using the visuals she provides. This work makes her proud, and makes her know that her father would be proud of her. Here, she can show the might of the uniformity, and being a single nation, of falling into line. Here, she can show what happens when you decide to remove the rules, what happens when people try to be the hero and rise up. A push shot here, a zoom shot there. Shots of blood splattered on the ground from one who made a bad choice. This is what she envisioned, being able to be a part of something this big, this magnificent. To show the evils of discord. 

When John passed away from age – not a surprise considering he was her well her senior – Keres threw herself into her work more. A monolith to who she was, a legacy to retain for eternity. History would remember her, and what she helped the Games become. The stories she helped tell. A machiavellian mastermind who knew how to skew the visuals, to tell the story she wanted people to see. Cutting the cameras and the film, picking the dialogue she wanted, marketing it to who she pleased. This is her zenith, her pinnacle. 

  After the mess that was the 134th games (which if anyone had asked her opinion, she wouldn’t have gone through this farce and just said to kill the man on trial like properly done instead of giving him the chance of life, although it was a good spectacle, a good story), Keres finally decided to lower herself to interact with those who she looked at on the screen. Sure, she knew many of the Mentors already – after all she had been the one to tell their stories, but clearly things had begun to get out of hand. 

No, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. So she would get her hands dirty, coming down from her tower to make sure the story was told correctly. Rebellion simmering again, she would show them what happens to those who try to break ranks. Once again, history was repeating itself, these fools thinking they have all the answers, that they know better. Not realizing that once again the shortsightedness of their crusade would be the downfall. It was time for her to get back in the trenches, to learn the stories herself instead of them being told to her. Meeting the people, looking them in the eye, selling the narrative. It had been a while since she had done so, preferring to remain aloof, to tell the narrative as it unfolded on the screen and from her sources.

  Since her ascension to her current role, Keres had only waded back into the swamp once. When another beautiful girl by the name of Cressida had volunteered, the same hungry look on her face. Due to a leave of absence at the time, Keres had stepped back for those games, choosing to mentor once again. It would not be hard for her to acquire sponsors afterall. Not the maternal type, she knew her legacy would never reside with children, and so she had the luxury of hand picking a successor. And this young girl, she would be it. 

Ruthless and a weapon, Keres had been proud of her, guiding through her games and what came after. What her role would be, grooming her to follow in her own footsteps. A perfect commodity for District One, how people were so foolish to think that only referred to find jewels and other luxuries. No, beauty was a commodity, and a weapon, and much like Keres, Cressida had the mind to go with hers. How disappointing it was, then, when she fell in with a rebel. Even the good ones spoil, and Keres was determined still to find someone she could groom to be perfect, to follow in her footsteps. And if Cressida would no longer do, well, that was fine. She would just choose someone else. 

Most other mentors in the Tower do not know her beyond the time she Mentored Cressida, if they were serving then. Otherwise, she went back into her Gamemakers den, continuing her job as someone who sold the narrative. Of course she would attend the galas and balls, but never as a representative of her district. No, One was well in the past for Keres, a distant memory that she had escaped. Now, she thoroughly lived in the present and future, a Capitolite, bearing even a Capitolite last name and exerting the influence that came along with it. 

Even those who do not know her seem to get the message quickly that she is not one to be trifled with. Manicured nails, never a hair out of line, paint on her lips and a chill in her eyes. Keres walks into every room like she owns it, commanding attention. Her very aura is that of power and arrogance. Never does she look disheveled, always like at any moment she could appear on screen. Whenever she smiles, it's often a thin line of her lips, or a charming one that carries danger behind it. Everything about Keres reminds of the deadliness of the Arena – and of herself. For not only could she kill with her weapons, but words and wits too. 

[+ ambitious] [+ methodical] [+ intelligent] [- arrogant] [- vicious] [- manipulative]

PENNED BY: BEL

[tintysun]

The Hunger Games: The Mockingjay - Part 2 (2015) ↳ Chatter

. Well, time to watch the last one...

. What a mess.

. *shoots arrow of truth and purity of heart at president coin* you need better crowd control ideas, woman. don't be using the same old and cruel methods; there are other ways. getcha some nerds who are genuinely into human nature to figure them out. now let those old notions die and be reborn! resembling snow is no good. 😩

. for real, in the case of anyone, becoming/being like snow is a sure way to have katniss not like you. there should be no shock in that.

. *quickly scribbles an alternate Part 2* soldier whose name i'm not sure of doesn't die, finnick doesn't die, prim doesn't die, somehow some of the characters that previously died also didn't die, president coin finds the light and can take care of at least some things, etc.

. also, obviously, katniss is not pro-war but i'm not getting further into that topic. 😵

A few more annotations...

. Bet that at one point Katniss learned to chill the heck down and not jump at every sign of danger and demise. Possibly even to the point of seeming indifferent and downright soulless. But it's like, darn, she already had her nervous system wrecked - more than once, over different causes - so let her relax and only contribute to what's going on outside of her peace when she's up to it. I think that, as a fire archer, she's not necessarily a go, go, go, 24/7 person. Just someone who doesn't like stagnation and restrictions much.

. Also, about where lies Katniss' loyalty. Maybe just try to be a decent enough human being. There are people celebrating her and such but that's definitely not a requirement. She sticks with whoever is genuinely good. Competency to get a specific job done is another matter.

. It's interesting how much they emphasized that their map is incomplete to know of all the traps set up and how new traps are being placed as they go. Because... life. But the map still keeps them from falling for plenty of them.

. Some traps looked quite lame, too. But others... eh... May God (or the gamemaker 🤭) be with you.

. I still wonder what happened to Peeta in there that changed him so much. I haven't looked up more book details, but it seems quite scarring. Relieved he started gradually recovering, though.

. Not a fan at all of Finnick's pointless death. He was calling out to Katniss too and she didn't turn to him? I'd understand it if they didn't know each other or if she even believed he might be an enemy, but while he was being a friend? That's just terrible. In any case, it sucked. Katniss did not literally kill him, it was Snow and the mutts. But still... 😐

. One thing that I appreciated in this movie, that ALWAYS IRRITATES ME IN ZOMBIE STORIES, was the initiative to be cuffed while still at risk of being harmful to innocents. I mean, probably didn't have to anymore (please don't be Elsa not coming out to build a snowman 😭). But that was truly noble behavior that, for some reason, lots of other characters in other stories would be so offended by even if it was merely suggested to them. Y'all, give yourself a time-out if you're not quite yourself. Wait for the remedy and/or for it to pass. It shouldn't be an issue. It's the responsible thing to do when the consequences could be too grave.

. In the end... Haymitch and Katniss are like best buddies. I'm sorry but that's incredible and amusing if you think about it from beginning to end. Sooo nice, though. I hope they have a long-lasting or even for-life friendship. 😄💙

. And thank goodness there are books for more of this when you can't get enough!

[theoldtherebeforehq]

✗ CONFIDENTIAL TRIBUTE FACILITY SIGN UP SHEET records the attendance of CEDAR BIRCH, a TRIBUTE from DISTRICT 7. The applicable authorities may note, that the 36 year old MALE / HE/HIM/HIS is CAPABLE, DRIVEN, AND RESPONSIBLE, but has also been known to be SELF-SACRIFICIAL, INDECISIVE, AND EVASIVE. Similarities in appearance can be seen with METIN AKDÜLGER. According to previous reports, they’re often associated with fog drifting between trees in the early morning, the echo of an axe chopping up wood and a warm embrace in front of a fireplace.

BIO

Cedar was eleven when the war ended. For many, it may have meant a ray of sunshine bursting through, dark clouds clearing to make way for a blue sky. For Cedar, it meant waking up in a world his parents had tried to dismantle. 

The war ended, and Cedar was on his own, growing up in a new order with nothing to his name but a dilapidated house left to him by his deceased parents. From a very young age, he began to work to stay alive, the money he made barely covering what it cost to remain in the house, to feed himself. Eventually, he found work at a sawmill, one of the largest in District 7. Permanently doused in the smell of tree gum and a layer of sawdust, Cedar, for the first time, found himself in a position to make enough money to do more than just survive. 

He turned 12 when the first Hunger Games were announced, and from then on, he stood at each Reaping, limbs trembling and heart in his throat. It was a terrifying thought, to be at the mercy of someone who could pluck him from his home and force him to use the very thing he made a living of to kill others. Nine years later, he was aged out. 

The fear never vanished, though. Silly, he’d thought at that point. There was no way for him to still be reaped, and yet it sat firmly in his bones, lodged into his very being. Slowly then, at some point he didn’t keep track of, tesserae began to be implemented. Cedar watched with dull horror as children would take and take and take, and give their name over to the reaping bowl in turn. 

He continued to work at the sawmill, his skill with the axe becoming routine as he split wood day after day. It was hard work with just about enough pay, but he had grown used to the motions, the ever changing weather and the various scents that clung to his skin. 

In the 25th year after the implementation of the Hunger Games, the shiny and brand new Head Gamemaker announced a reaping twist in the midst of the President’s speech. There would be no generic reaping, but District citizens would place their votes. Each person, practically forced to be the one to reach their hand into the bowl and pluck out a name of their own. For many, this would be horrible. For some, it would be a dream of vengeance come true. 

After the announcement, Cedar was struck by a horrible feeling in his gut. He recalled the way he had feared for his life at each reaping he’d stood at. Recalled the terrible sadness whenever another child placed their name at the Capitol’s mercy. He made a choice, then. Impulsive and stupid, perhaps, but he felt resolve in it all. Thirty-six years old, and he would offer himself up as an easier vote. A voluntary vote. 

He went from door to door in his neighborhood, spoke to as many people as he could and hoped that he reached enough people to gather the votes needed. Many looked upon him with pity and sorrow in their eyes, others with gratefulness, and a few with steely resolve. It was a cruel world they lived in, and Cedar was trying to make it a little easier on all of them. 

Sure enough, the day came. He felt 12 and 21 again at the same time, standing at the Reaping square with his trembling hands and shallow breath. 

Sure enough, his name was called. 

Cedar felt reassured, felt sturdy in the knowledge that he had spared another person of this very fate. 

What is their District token?

A handkerchief embroidered with his mother’s initials

What is their weapon of choice?

An axe

[slate-skylar]

JULY - OCTOBER 104

He gets a job as a Gamemaker's Personal Assistant, working with a man who is as ridiculous as his name -- Felix Felicitous, thanks to a good recommendation from the Escort he assisted -- because, in the end, Slate did what he was supposed to do and he did it well, even if it mostly looked like shirking any responsibilities. The Escort was doing the same, and would never have noticed if he spent far too much time in the training center.

The job is as demeaning as any other, but it comes with perks. He isn't actually a Gamemaker -- fuck that, he would never stoop so low. But he gets to spend some time around other Gamemakers, organizing files and doing coffee runs. The coffee runs, he hates, of course, and spits in the coffee at least half the time; but the files are good. He needs to be trusted, and miraculously, he is. His record is good, after all: on paper, it looks very nice, being a vagrant and a strain on society until he was taken in by Hestia, a well-liked Victor -- and a straight-laced one, at that. Starting his official working life at Capitol Coffee and getting a few reprimands, but after that, getting his head on straight. On paper it looks like he wisened up and started flying straight. Of course, the truth is that he realized he'd need to be smarter and more strategic if he wanted to change anything.

The leaks start very small, with tiny pieces of information being printed in the zine, which comes out more frequently now. There's an issue featuring Alder's photos, and with Alder's help, a better distribution system gets set up. People start contributing from all over, and some tips come in from Eleven that things are happening. Slate feels an itch to go there and join it all, but something keeps him back -- the mailbox that he checks regularly, twice a day, and which often provides him with what he's hoping to see: a postcard from Cress.

So the days pass.

[mellarked-katnisseverdeen]

What do you think about Star Crossed Lover strategy on the 74th THG?

Who did invent it?

Who benefited from it?

Thank you, @curiousnonny

As messed up as it is that something like a romance plot line is enough for the Capitol citizens to garner some pity for Katniss and Peeta...it is kinda genius in it's symbolism. These two are literal entertainment to them and feeling entitled to things like their love life is a part of that.

As for who INVENTED it? I don't think anyone laid out a blue print and mapped the path of events FOR the star-crossed lovers act. Peeta wanted Katniss to survive, above all things and his actions that played INTO the SCL act was based in that- making her more likable, working to keep the Careers away from her as long as possible and getting her to run during the tracker jacker attack. But I think the one who strung the things together in order to get the rule change? I put the responsibility of that on Haymitch.

But if there is a single person to blame honestly, it's...just the Gamemakers. THEY played up this idea, used it to control and manipulate. To me the way Katniss and Peeta are forced into faking a relationship will always be the Gamemakers and Snows fault and only their fault.

And they benefited from it to!

[earthboundrecast]

Update #1: Status report

Hey everyone! Ian here. I think it’s time to bring everyone up to speed about our progress. As it has been exactly 7 months since we began development on Earthbound Recast. So far it’s been an interesting journey working on this project. We’ve grown a lot since then! Now we want to show our passion for this even more by giving everyone who has been following us a big update on how things are currently looking, plans going forward, and a personal message. We hope you enjoy!

The world of Earthbound Recast

So far, things are looking exciting! Everyone on the team has been working hard to make the project look as professional as it can be. As of current, mostly design and music is being done. We needed to find the right look and feel of the project and see how it would affect working with this in the future. So far, we are very happy with the response!

Mapping

Our current aim is to finish all assets for Onett, Everything is recreated from scratch with some noticable improvements here and there. Onett needs a few more assets that need to be finished before it’s completion!

Of course, work has started on different parts of the game to learn more about how other locations should look.

Mapping is done in Tiled, a flexible level editor that is capable of porting maps to several engines. It’s free, quick, and easy to use!

Friendly neighbors

Earthbound has a wacky, memorable cast of characters. The artists Quak, Cardigan, Max and Prism. Have done an amazing job thus far working on redrawing all the characters you’ll meet throughout your adventure.

Enemies

Next to mapping, this has been the busiest activity, as redrawing enemies for this remake turns out to be surprisingly entertaining!

As of now, currently 47 enemies have been completed! There's about 165 unique enemies if you're not counting duplicates.

Enemies are sketched out first and completed from there.

Battles

We currently don’t have our hands on a working game engine yet. (More on that later down this post). But this is an example on how battles will look in Earthbound Recast.

Menus for battles and overworld are being redesigned to make navigation easier. No more messing through menus!

Music

Please Visit our Soundcloud here!

Irikachana who is known for the MOTHER3 Restored Soundtrack is working on re-arranging the whole soundtrack while still sounding faithful!

Engine

This project started out in GameMaker Studio 2, but it quickly turned out to be unfit for this project due to several limitations that would decrease the quality we aim to achieve.

Unity was then being considered, but we soon learned that there’s a faster and more future-proof option coming our way...

introducing...

MODOT is an upcoming open-sourced Earthbound game engine powered by GODOT. Currently being developed by Benichi. The co-director of MOTHER: ROOTS

Check out the webpage for MODOT here.

Applications for programmers experienced with Godot and GDScript will open as soon as we get our hands on MODOT. It’s very important for a good programmer to know what they are getting into. To show we are working on this huge commitment with promise. Documents like a GDD and progress spreadsheets will be handed out to programmers who are interested in working on this project in their free time (Non-paid).

For artists who are also interested in joining the project, applications are in fact always open, just send your portfolio to earthboundrecast@gmail.com or DM us on our Twitter!

Please be aware, the Portfolio has to match the artstyle for this project, so tasks can be comfortably assigned.

Thank you!

Thanks to all the people who have supported us on Twitter, it means a lot. We might have revealed a bit too early, thus explaining why there is no current build in the new engine yet, but we are fully commited to follow our plans step-by-step! and with MODOT underway, we will have nothing to worry about!

Final message

Writing this blogpost has been an absolute blast, we hope you like what we currently had to show! You can expect us to write updates on this blog every now and then. We aim for letting everyone know exactly what is going on during development.

We have to point out, this is still a FANMADE project, always take fanmade products into account, anything can happen during development. 

Thank you so much for reading and we’ll see you next time!

-Ian Noah

Team members

Ian Noah

Quak

Max

Goraiken

Chair

Cardigan

Jalecko

Benichi

Irikachana

Maedeaz

Prism