#snow in august

[agooberscast]

It's getting late, but the party doesn't stop until she says so! The little imp has at least been enjoying people willing to both drink and even play along with her for her birthday week of shenanigans!

However, most of the crowd she started the night with has gone home or passed out around her in the bar, even as the imp herself is stumbling around on top of the bar. Time to take inventory of who or what's left.

She wobbles her way down the bar, doing her best to climb over and around others. Their drinks and items, too. Ya know, as a bonus. She tumbles over a lady sleeping with her head down on the bar, getting her coat caught on her necklace as she does. Time to unwind from that and also nick it for later. Might be worth something. Maybe she'll want it back and that means more talking time~.

She accidentally flips into a guy's drink, drenching herself to the bone suddenly and freezing it immediately in response. The guy gets a little huffy from getting splashed suddenly, but he also just ends up having a giggle fit about it. Aiko crawls out of the glass and keeps on walking down the bar.

She's just been drinking and partying since she left the place she calls a home, with her roomie who liked her enough to let her stay, as she gets a feel of her feelings. She was gonna go meet some good friends for her birthday, try to make some new ones and see what surprises and experiences await her. Some new cyanettes, especially! Those are pretty rare, outside herself and her good friend, Freia!

She now sits at the end of the bar, having made it before she realized it. She sort of stares out on the empty dance floor as thoughts and feelings come rushing over her. She's got Sunny, she's got Freia, she's got Monika and she's got Calien! She's got a good handful of friends and a girlfriend, for sure!

But why does she feel so empty? She always wants to find a good time, some good drink or a good friend, but why doesn't it feel like it's enough? What is she missing? What does she not have that others have absolutely figured out?

She puts her head into her hands, clearly feeling something sort of sad, but also something from all her drinking already tonight. Maybe she overdid it already in the first day or so? She should probably sleep and walk this off and find somewhere nice to sleep for the night, before trying to actually go do all the stuff she wants to do the rest of the week.

Maybe she can ask her friends why she feels this way, too. Sometimes it's hard to see how big your problems are when you're so small. Hehehe, she is small! The rest of her is so big in person, though. Personality, attitude, showmanship and libido! Mmmph, okay. Nurse that headache a little more, maybe that lady will nap for a bit still. Better go join her over there, for now.

[aqua-regia009]

The Orphan, c.1885 - oil on canvas — August Friedrich Schenck (German/French, 1828-1901)

[lqveharrington]

For Better or Worse | C.S.

summary: Coriolanus was never the same after he came back from District 12. All he saw was power and fame.

pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!reader

includes: BABY SNOWWW aka Elizabeth Snow, manipulation, fluff, comfort, angst, death, guns, blood, trauma, coryo is kinda misogynistic, lying, Lucy Gray makes an appearance, (tell me if I forgot anything!)

a/n: love me some coryo fics :)

You’ve known Coriolanus Snow for as long as you’ve lived. You were there when he was at rock bottom and—somehow—you were by his side when he rose to power and fame. His sudden rise to politician to president wasn't at all shocking to anyone in the Capitol. Especially when he "rightfully" won the Hunger Games.

The second he was inducted as the President of Panem, you became his First Lady. It was expected of you by your past peers and inner circles. You dated him in while attending Academy and there were records of you and Coriolanus sending and receiving letters from one another while he was stationed in District 12.

But when Coriolanus came back from the Districts, he was different. You weren't exactly sure if he changed for the better, but it definitely came with its own challenges. His ideals and principles switched like a magnet. Those ideas that used to uphold his promises and quiet words to you were now vowed to the entire country. Your opinions no longer mattered to him—just the image of a loving wife doting on his every move.

Eventually, you changed.

Half your heart belonged to the boy Coriolanus once was while the other half belonged solely to you daughter—Elizabeth Snow. The second you learned you were pregnant, you practically begged the universe to bless you with a healthy child. Luckily, she came out absolutely perfect. She was an absolute rose.

Coriolanus loved his daughter more than anything Panem could offer, but his idea of being the best reined over his love. He was constantly away at business meetings rather than tending to his daughter—sending you or nurses to tend to Elizabeth rather than face the music himself.

He wanted—no, needed—a perfect family. He made sure to adorn the both of you in the best materials whenever presented to the public, even if you made quiet complaints about it being too much for you daughter. He made sure his daughter would be as smart as you, never him. No one should be as smart as Coriolanus Snow. Besides, you were tied with him for Valedictorian long ago.

If all his demands were pushing his family to their limits, so be it. Coriolanus demanded perfection—no matter what.

Despite all of his requirements to be absolutely perfect, you and Elizabeth found time to just relax with no expectations. Just you and her away from press and public images your husband set up for the both of you.

“Liza, what are you doing?”

You and Elizabeth were in the backyard of the Presidential Manor, although it was like a mini sanctuary if you were to describe it. There was a gorgeous pond in the middle with an entire forest encapsulating the entire backyard. There were rows and rows of flowers—mainly roses—and a greenhouse designated for fruits and vegetables you and Elizabeth would pick from time to time. It was your heaven away from the mess Coriolanus made, but you would never admit that willingly.

“Watching the swans, mama. They’re making funny patterns.” Elizabeth pointed out before beaming brightly when she saw you shut your art journal and approach where she stood, her platinum blonde curls bouncing with her every move.

“And why is that?” You hummed and dusted your charcoaled hands off, careful not to touch her precious clothing or stain her beautiful face with any idiotic movements.

“Well, it means a lot of different things.” She tilted her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best to remember everything she's read about swans. “The most common reasons are for establishing territories or displaying affection.”

You hum and look out toward the two swans, “What do you suppose those two are doing?”

“Neither.” Elizabeth opened her eyes again and shifted her gaze toward the swans, pointing toward the bigger one. “See how the male swan is fluffing his feathers and sticking his neck high? He’s showing off his dominance to the female.”

To be honest, you were quite stunned your daughter knew so much about nature. This wasn't the first time she was able to explain events within living organisms. You knew she read loads, but you didn't think she would ever remember all of the information. Especially since she was merely seven.

“Where did you learn this?” You ask as you lead her back toward the manor, your journal in hand.

“The books papa has stored in the library.” She stepped on the stone path like the grass was lava, using her arms to balance herself. She spun around once she passed the stones, running around the willow tree until you caught up. “Miss Beth lets me read them when papa brings you on business trips at the Districts or when you leave for parties.”

You hold back your laughter at her actions and look around before beckoning her over, whispering in her ear—yet her giggles infect you. “Perhaps I’ll speak to your papa about getting you a miniature library in your room.”

“Really?” She grabbed your arm with wide eyes, practically jumping from excitement. Elizabeth squealed when you nodded—pulling you closer and closer to the manor. Now that you mentioned a miniature library just for her, she would do anything to make the process faster.

“You seem to like reading as much as I do.” You start to clarify as you let her lead you to the back porch, leaning down to whisper in her ear once more. “Besides, it’ll be an excuse for papa to buy even more books.”

Elizabeth squealed once more and tugged you even harder to follow her, your laughter and hers ringing out in the backyard. You loved moments where you and your daughter could just exist in a world without constraints. She was a light in your dark and shrouded world—if anything ever happened to her, you swore you would become the exact person the Capitolites expected you to be.

Just as ruthless and unforgiving as your husband.

“Where are you two off in such a hurry?” Coriolanus appeared in front of the both of you, eyebrow raised in minimal interest.

Speak of the devil himself.

Of course, he wore his pristine—blood-red—suit with a white rose pinned to the jacket's lapel and a white ribbon looped in the hole of his pants. The ribbon was stolen from you the day of your wedding and he chose to wear it everyday to show everyone who belonged to him. It was one of his many prized possessions in life.

“Coming to find you, papa.” Elizabeth left your side and moved to her father's—allowing him to pick her up in his arms. She pushed a stray hair away from his face, earning a half-hearted smile from him.

“Is that so?” He shifted her weight into one of his arms, locking his gaze to your “messy” appearance.

In his eyes, you looked terrible. The curls in your hair were flat; your hands were covered in charcoal; your dress was wrinkled; and it was clear to him you were running from the way your chest rose and fell. It was unacceptable for you to run. People ran for the First Lady—not the other way around.

Rather than dwelling on your husband’s scrutiny, you casted your gaze toward your daughter—who looked like she was ready to explode in excitement if you didn’t say anything. “I have a request on Liza’s behalf.”

“And what does Elizabeth want?” Coriolanus spoke in a sure tone, using his daughter’s full first name. He never understood the need to shorten her name—her name was pure class and power. She was the daughter of the President after all.

“A mini library in my room!” She clasped her hands together and spoke dreamily, eyes filled with stars and fireworks. “I want to fill it with all the books in the world.”

“I see.” He fixed the collar of her dress before tilting his head to the side, catching your eyes for a split second. Coriolanus saw your face soften as Elizabeth’s silent begging, therefore giving him the answer to his daughter’s request. “That can be arranged.”

Elizabeth grinned so wide that it looked like her cheeks began to hurt. She moved to kiss her father’s cheek, words of gratitude spilling from her lips until she couldn’t breathe.

For a moment, you swore you saw the person your husband used to be. You saw the boy who would do anything to make his family happy, even if it cost him more than what he could give. Yet the moment was fleeting as he set Elizabeth down and sent her off to her governess—who was waiting by the double doors of the back porch.

“What is it?” You ask quietly as he guided you away from any prying ears, leading you toward the bed of roses and small fountain by the left side of the backyard.

Coriolanus subtly gestured toward where the governess last stood, adjusting the cuffs of his suit in a composed manner. “She’s not filling her head with fairytales and nonsense, is she?”

“Absolutely not, Coriolanus.” You walk beside him and tuck your hands behind your back—watching every step you took on the cracked path of stones. “She’s been taught all her mathematics and history. When she has the time, Liza does her own reading.”

He hummed and nodded his chin toward the journal behind your back, “Is her portfolio as diverse as yours?”

“She’s learning new mediums every week.” You answer and look up at him—his piercing blue eyes boring into your eyes.

“What have you been up to?” He asked—snapping a rose from it's place and placing it delicately behind your ear, his eyes lingering on the earrings your adorned. Coriolanus had bought them for you mere days ago and expected you to wear them until he bought you a new pair.

“Taking note of everything in our backyard starting with the pond.” You say calmly and back away from his touch—instead—observing the swans and plants that you were drawing earlier. When you felt a burning stare in the back of your head, you continued to speak, hoping to please and ease his mind. “Peacekeepers were at a distance and surveyed the area before we came out.”

“Good.” Coriolanus replied in a curt tone and began to follow you once more, his mind going over a check list he conjured up earlier that day. “We have a conference with the mayors of each District at five.”

“It’s not the end of the quarter yet.” You curl your fingers tighter around your journal—your lips tugging down into a frown at the thought of another rebellion happening in your lifetime.

“They demand to push back the Hunger Games.” His own lips pursing together into annoyance. Who were they to tell him to push back such a crucial event that ever existed in Panem?

“How foul.” You respond accordingly and face him—having already made a short loop around the rose garden. “Of course you won’t agree.”

“Of course not.” He pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face—something Elizabeth learned from him after years of observing her parents. “They don’t have the power—“

BANG!

A loud, clear shot rings out of the Presidential Manor, your eyes widening at the sudden sound. Your grip on your journal tightens as peacekeepers begin to surround you and Coriolanus, your mind instantly wandering to your daughter's safety. You clutch Coriolanus' arm and look into the double doors leading into the manor—every sound muffling the second he begins directing the peacekeepers.

All you could hear was the blood rushing in your body—your heart pumping faster and faster. Your breathing was labored, each second that passed felt like an eternity until you saw the familiar curls rushing out of the house with her personal peacekeeper close behind. You pushed through the wall of peacekeepers surrounding you and instantly dropped to your knees, catching your daughter in your arms.

“Liza.” You breathed and held her closely, feeling for her pulse anywhere you could reach.

She was alive and well. She was alive.

“Mama,” She said shakily and buried her head into your neck, tears streaming from her eyes at the death she witnessed. She would never dare speak about the moment again and she swore her entire life on it. “Mama, Miss B-Beth—“

“You’re okay, I’m here with you.” You rub her back and wipe the tears from her face, your own voice shaky when you look up at your husband who looked like he was about to murder someone. “Coriolanus—“

“Already on it.” He replied coolly and took purposeful strides toward the back doors of the manor—peacekeepers to his left and right.

A peacekeeper from inside came out of the manor and saluted him before gesturing to the following group of peacekeepers behind him. “Sir, we found the intruder and murderer of the governess.”

Coriolanus' gaze hardened at the sight of an old acquaintance, his breath catching momentarily until he heard a quiet sob from his daughter—snapping him back to reality.

“Lucy Gray Baird.” Coriolanus shook his head at the woman, resentment filling every single step he took toward her. The sky began to darken as clouds covered the sun; the wind was much colder than it was earlier; and the tension that filled the air was thick enough to be seen.

Someone had to go, but it wasn't going to Coriolanus. He wasn't going to ever fall for her tricks again.

“Let go of me!” Lucy Gray fought against the peacekeeper's arms, eyes wild with rage and fury for the platinum blonde male in front of her.

“You killed my daughter's governess.” Coriolanus bent over and spoke to her face to face—hating how unfazed she was with his movements. “How the did you escape 12? Run off with the Covey after all?”

Lucy Gray clenched her teeth at him and shoved forward, barely moving from how hard the peacekeepers held her. She was probably bruised with how tight they were holding her. “You deserve no love for what you’ve done, Coriolanus. You know you were wrong.”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” He gripped her arm and pulled her closer to him, watching her eyes widen at the sudden aggressiveness. He scoffed, “I—“

“Your wife doesn’t even love you.” Lucy Gray spat and continued to struggle, hands clenching by her sides.

Coriolanus’ grip on Lucy Gray’s arm tightened the more she struggled and spoke, his knuckles whitening with the force of restraint. He spoke through his teeth—his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t know what you’re talking about."

Lucy Gray laughed. A brittle, sharp sound spilling from her lips.

“Don’t I? Look at her.” She tilted her head toward where you kneeled with Elizabeth, your arms wrapped around your trembling daughter. “Tell me, First Lady Snow, do you love your husband?”

Your heart pounded against your ribcage. The question hung in the air—heavy and suffocating. You glanced at Coriolanus—your husband—whose cold blue eyes pinned you in place.

He expected an answer. He always did.

“I love my family." You replied ever so carefully.

Lucy Gray snorted and tilted her head at you, tone mocking at your avoidance of answering a yes or no question. “That’s not what I asked, darlin’.”

“Enough.” Coriolanus’ voice was final—cutting through the thick tension like a blade. He shoved Lucy Gray back into the arms of the peacekeeper who found her originally, “You came here to what, Lucy Gray? Kill my family off until it was just me?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “I meant to kill you, but f’course you would never be with your daughter.”

Elizabeth gasped and buried her head into your neck again, squeezing her eyes shut. She wished this was all a dream—that everything she saw and heard was her imagination. A horrible and crude imagination.

“All that's left is to get rid of you." Coriolanus shook his head and glared down at the pathetic woman. Some winner she turned out to be. "Did you really think you could harm me or what belongs to me?”

“You’re sick." She spat and nodded her head toward you and Elizabeth. “Keeping them in this golden cage of yours. But they’ll never be yours, not really. You can’t make someone love you, Coriolanus.”

You take her words in—eyes darting between Lucy Gray and Coriolanus. Long ago you would’ve fought tooth and nail to defend him. Now, you weren’t sure if he was even worth defending.

“Take her away.” Coriolanus ordered the peacekeepers, stepping closer to Lucy Gray one last time, his breath hot with rage. “Make sure she never steps foot in the Capitol again.”

Lucy Gray smirked even as she was dragged away. Her voice was clear to everyone in the backyard, “You can erase me, Coriolanus, but you can’t erase the truth. One day, she’ll see you for what you are.”

The doors slammed shut behind her as they all left, leaving the Snow family in complete silence.

The sun returned and the winds calmed—even the swans came out of hiding to enjoy the once beautiful day. You finally stood up and wiped Elizabeth’s final tears, whispering words of reassurance and love until you felt the same burning you felt earlier.

Coriolanus turned to you with an unreadable expression, clearing his throat when he met your eyes. “Go inside with Elizabeth.”

You hesitated as Elizabeth held onto your hand tighter, her entire body still shaking from shock.

His eyes softened—just slightly—as he looked at his daughter. She was clinging onto you for dear life and you were thumbing circles into her palm, something you did for Coriolanus when he was stressed back in Academy.

“I won’t let anything touch you.” He murmured to the both of you, kissing your temple and leaning down to kiss the top of Elizabeth’s head.

But the question lingered.

Hadn’t something already?

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[lamour-est-la-force]

Me: Once Upon a Time season 1 is so cozy and comforting :)

ouat s1: government corruption, a woman almost having to give her baby away against her will, a mine collapsing with a child inside, a girl locked in a mental hospital, arson, homeless children needing to steal to survive, said homeless children almost getting separated in the foster care system, infidelity, drugging and kidnapping, attempted muder, actual murder, a murder trial that has nothing to do with the real actual murder, a man slowly and painfully turning into wood, etc.

[lunarharp]

warming back up with 89 feelings

[kingofthewilderwest]

Hiccup saying Berk snows nine months of the year and hails the other three is unimpressive. Sweetie, every location I've lived falls in that category, and I'd consider the weather I live in unextreme. Try harder to stun me with your alleged bad weather.

[illustratus]

Napoleon on the Battlefield of Eylau by Antoine-Jean Gros

[cozydragonart]

Day 14, Snow Pigeon

[microwave-core]

Could you write a Rika (from pokemon S/V) with AFAB reader who has major anxiety and is super nervous because it's their first time having sex with Rika? Like reader's brain is noisy and won't hush up enough to relax. Whether Rika is using a strap-on or not is totally up to you. Comfort, fluff, smut (go as nsfw as you desire) and aftercare.

um this is from august. anyways.

This is more, like, broaching the topic of your first time. It's not my best work imo but I need to set this down before I keep fiddling with it. Also the keep reading break keeps moving stop that.

So, we all know Rika fucks. Even though I've characterized her as someone who's secretly a disaster behind closed doors because fuck she loves her girlfriend, she's gotten plenty of action before getting with you.

To Rika, sex is just all about making each other feel good. She's had many partners before, a casual fling or two here and there. It's not a big deal to her, but she understands that not everyone feels that way. So when you draw boundries at touches that were too close and intimate for you to handle, she backs off, careful to not pressure you into anything you aren't alright with.

It starts with a simple make out session, her body practically glued ontop of your own on the couch. The proximity, her warmth, the tongue exploring your mouth, it's all so much, your head buzzing, above the clouds. You can't help but want it to continue forever. That is, until, you feel her hand, the one previously perched upon your hip, travel down, finding a new home on the waistband of your pants.

Rika pulls back the moment you pull your lips away from her own, face flushed, clearly nervous. It takes her a moment to realize that she took things a bit too far. She apologizes quickly, cupping your cheek gently, asking if you're alright with moving any further, and when you say no, that's that. She presses another kiss to your lips, this time chaste and quick, content to cuddle for the rest of the night (not before taking care of herself in the bathroom first).

She was dissapointed that things ended early, sure, but youre her girlfriend. Her sweet, lovable girlfriend. And the last thing she'd want to do is make you uncomfortable, push your boundries in a way you wouldn't enjoy. She gives you a bit of time, a few days or so, before bringing the topic up again, wanting to understand where you fall on all of this.

It's a simple question, really. "Why didn't you want to go any further?" No bitterness, no upset, just your girlfriend wanting to know where your boundries lie so she understands how to best navigate the intimate aspect of your relationship.

When you tell her you're a virgin, she really isn't surprised. Again, Rika's been with many people before, some who are wise beyond their years with experience and other's having none. Your shy touches whenever she was so close, the clumsiness in your actions and uncertainty of where to place your hands, it all was a give away, honestly. Not that she'd tell you, though. The last thing she wanted was to make you feel ashamed for something that really wasn't a big deal.

So she waits. She tells you as such. She'll wait for you to feel ready before trying to press forward again, but she does let you know that she'll be treating you to the best night of your life if you came around to the idea.

She doesn't show you but honestly she's so fucking excited. Being your first time? Setting the standard for any of your future partners, should you have any past her? Corrupting you? It's kinda hot to her. She wouldn't bring up the last part, though. Rika Corruption kink is real to me, but she's not going to spring that on you. Your first time should be sweet and gentle, about you and your pleasure. So she'll reserve that idea for when she gets off on her own.

The day you tell her that you think youre ready, she is over the moon. It's a little sudden on your part. You had been thinking about it for days, and wanting nothing more than to feel her all over you, over the most intimate parts of you, but were just too anxious to actually make the push. What if it wasn't all that you thought it would be? What if you messed something up? What if you did something really gross and it turned Rika off so much that she didn't even want to touch you? But your want eventually outweighs your worries.

It's a stammered confession, holding her hand, playing with her fingers as you get the words out, embarrassment burning up your face, thoughts going a million miles per minute, but you try your best to focus on Rika, the way her face brightens up at your words, the way she grabs your hand and squeezes it tight, her lips pressing on your forehead, the reassureance in her voice as she tells you that tonight she'll take care of you. Pamper you like you deserve.

Maybe telling her in the morning was the wrong decision, because you go through the rest of the day completely distracted, overthinking and worrying about what will happen when you get home, yet still excited at the prospect, left pressing your thighs together while trying to get any meaningful work done.

You get home before her that night, as you typically will, trying to act normal. Make some dinner, get cleaned up, don't overthink ever little thing. Normal nightly activites. Your heart stammers in your chest as you move around your apartment, but practically stops when the front door creeks open, a call of "I'm home!" echoing through the halls. She finds you quickly, pulling you into her arms, kissing you gently, complaing about the work day. You mention dinner, her face brightens, quickly returning to the kitchen to eat. Your normal nightly routine.

Rika's demenour is normal, but youre fidgeting and anxious. Bouncing your leg as you eat, trying to ignore the heated pit in your stomach. You can't think straight, simply nodding and humming along as Rika talks. How can you focus on her words at a time like this? She notices, obviously. She knows you, although anyone could look at you and tell something was up just by looking at you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts when her hand touches your thigh, not heated, just gentle, enough to make you look at her in the eyes for the first time since this morning, worry evident on her face.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" It's soft and quiet, for your ears only. You can only nod, placing your hand on top of her own. You were ready for this, you were tired of running away from what you wanted from overly anxious thoughts. A smile works it's way back onto her face, soft on the surface, but laced with an unmistakble heat, quickly standing up, ready to wisk you away to the bedroom. As much as she'd like to take you, taste you, right then and there, she was going to give you a proper first time.

[kydnexploded]

tryna draw on my computer again

[agooberscast]

"Sooooo, my special day had been made a special week due to an unforseen error? Hehehe, I can work with that!" A nice biiiiiiig stretch as the mischievous little ice imp receives the news.

"Alright, everybody. Come and dote upon me. Treat me right, spoil me. Entertain meeeeee~.", she calls out to seemingly no one, as she readies herself for a week of shenanigans.

"Or, it's been awhile since I've taken a trip. How about I go visit some of them myself? Hmhmhmhm, perhaps so~?" A playful shimmy as she hops down and heads out of her shared room.

"Hey, Cals! I might be going out for a while! I'll call ya when I can, okay? Otherwise, call me back if you wanna do anything 'special' for my birthday, okay~?!", she says as she heads in her way out. Better leave a note, just in case she's gone already, too.

Time to get this show on the road, then! She slips out of the apartment at the earliest convenience, also packing some stuff to bring along. Ya know, just in case she has a good time or two.

[aftersector]

mobei-jun investigating his hamster 🐹

[lqveharrington]

Produce an Heir | C.S.

Summary: Forced into marriage and parenthood, Coriolanus defies the Capitol to protect his newborn daughter—choosing love over power. (Request found here!)

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!reader

Includes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, your dad and grandmother snow being terrible people, angst, misogyny, Coriolanus becomes protective, threats, mentions of death, cursing, allusions of sex, baby claire (kinda followed request, but also not???)

a/n: going through all my requests rn!

For as long as you could remember, you and Coriolanus despised one another.

It started off small in elementary school. He took your fountain pen and never gave it back, making you take his flower pin his grandmother gave him. After that, it all tumbled down into a big game of constant hatred.

In the Academy, you became insightful on the math and science subjects while he focused on English and history. You would go back and forth on who was smarter, often times arguing like young kids that even Dean Highbottom would call you two children.

During your University years, your arguments become more frequent. The both of you were doing your best to please Dr. Gaul and her craziness that neither of you realized that Grandmother Snow and your father set you up for an arranged marriage.

It felt like hell when they told you.

You knew very well that Coriolanus could have any woman in the Capitol and that any man would be lucky to have you as their wife, but you wanted to focus on your studies and become a doctor—not a man’s wife. Especially not Coriolanus Snow’s wife.

Unfortunately, the cards fell in your father’s favor and the two of you wed. Soon after, Coriolanus became the youngest president in the history of Panem. From then on, you had to plaster on a practiced smile and pretend to love Coriolanus for the cameras. And he did as well.

To the world, your relationship was picture perfect.

Behind closed doors, you wouldn’t even talk to one another.

You would eat together at the long dining table but never spoke. It was completely silent like an invisible wall separated the two of you.

The only time you only ever tolerated each other at home was when you were both… frustrated and needed a way to relax. But the next morning, even though you had gotten along well, the night’s activities would be forgotten and you would go back to silent treatment.

Well up until his Grandmother had enough of you not bearing a young Snow.

“Dear, how long has it been since you’ve been married to this young woman?” She would say to Coriolanus with a hint of frustration.

The both of you would sit on the long couch, far from each other while she paced back and forth between the space. She detested the tension, but it was partially her doing anyhow.

“For one year and six months, Grandma’am.” He would respond, sipping his tea and staring at her with boredom.

She huffed at his response before turning to you, “And how long has it been since my grandson has been president?”

“For one year and six months.” You stared at her with folded hands, not daring to meet your husband’s strong gaze as you spoke. “I expect him to stay in Presidency for the rest of his life, Grandma’am.”

“I expect that as well, dear.” She stilled and rested her hands on her cane, standing in the center of the room. “In that case, I’m—the public and future of the Snow name—is in need of an heir.”

Coriolanus choked on his tea and your eyes widened in shock, Grandmother Snow daring the two of you to defy her wishes with one single look.

In theory, the mixture of you and Coriolanus seemed absolutely perfect. In your eyes, it seemed quite horrid and it appeared Coriolanus agreed as well when he met your eyes with the same irritation for his Grandmother.

“Oh, you’re both adults, and everyone in this room knows you get along well with each other when alone.” She waved a dismissive hand around and bit back a smirk when your face and Coriolanus’ burned bright crimson. “You always knew it was expected of you in the end.”

And expected it became.

A few weeks later, you announced to the public that you were bearing Coriolanus’ child. The Capitol rejoiced at the news and it felt like the only thing they could talk about was the new Snow child.

They all believed it was a boy since a girl would never ascend to become president in their eyes. The gender became the hottest topic in any room you walked into. However, the gent of the baby was something both you and Coriolanus decided not to find out until the day your child was born.

Everyone awaited to know what the gender of the Snow child was as you got closer and closer to the due date. There were people who even tried to pretend to be a doctor to try and find the gender out, but no one heard anything. Not even the slightest hint.

On the day of your child’s birth, it was only you, Coriolanus, and the assigned doctors and nurses to aid you. Not even Tigris or Grandma’am was allowed. The cries of your baby filled the room as the doctor did one last check before handing her to you.

The Snow heir was a girl.

You pressed your cheek on the top of your baby as she quieted down in your arms, one finger tucked in her tiny hand and your free hand in Coriolanus’.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” You murmur softly and listen to her gentle breathing. “The world is going to absolutely go crazy over you.”

She squirmed in your arms, incoherent noises spilling from her mouth.

“No, I don’t know if they’ll be happy or not.” You say to her, answering like she had asked a question. “But I certainly am in love with you.”

Coriolanus watched you both, his eyes softening at the sight of his newborn daughter and wife. Never in his life did he think he would have a child with you, yet here you were, speaking to your daughter mere moments after she was born.

“She has your eyes, Coriolanus.” You look over at your husband, your own eyes filled with exhaustion.

He nodded and took his daughter from you gently, wanting to let you rest even for a second. Coriolanus held the bundle close to his chest and smile softly at his daughter, “Your mother is right, darling. The world will be crazy over you.”

She babbled something to him before nuzzling into his chest, falling asleep just like you did. He slowly sat in the chair beside the bed and started at the small family he was forced to create, mind instantly wandering toward the public’s opinion.

For as long as you and Coriolanus could, you kept the gender of your dear daughter a secret. Only those who lived in the house knew of the gender. You even hid it from both your families until the counsel and cabinet began demanding answers from the both of you—coming to your house without warning.

“Word has gotten out your child has been born, Coriolanus. The public demands a viewing and answer.” One of the men pounded on the Presidential Manor door, the other voices agreeing from the back.

You stood at the back of the foyer with Claire in your arms, gently rocking her up and down as Coriolanus and the peacekeepers spoke. You knew they were going to find out about your daughter sooner or later, but the force they were using seemed cruel and unnecessary.

“You need to go upstairs to our bedroom.” Coriolanus went up to you as the peacekeepers dispersed, his hands coming down to your shoulders. “Keep the doors locked—“

The both of you turned slowly to the doors when you heard a key enter the slot, the voices of the men hushed now as the door slowly opened to reveal Grandma’am with one of the master keys.

You glared at the woman as the men entered the manor, voices rising as they saw you turn your body away to shield your child from their prying gaze.

Coriolanus stepped toward the men in disappointment and annoyance, making a mental note to change every person in the counsel and cabinet later. “You cannot just come to my home and demand answers.”

“We can if the president refuses to give out information that would benefit the public’s knowledge.” A voice piped from the sea of men, quieting when Coriolanus glared.

“Coryo, is it a boy or not?” Grandma’am looked past Coriolanus, catching the glint of your child’s blanket wrapped around her tiny body. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?”

Roars of disappointment and anger came from the men surrounding Coriolanus as they heard Grandmother Snow. They began complaining about what the Capitol might think and how it was his fault for not determining the gender sooner in hopes of starting over.

Your baby began to fuss at all the noise, her quiet cries filling the already loud room. You stepped backwards and whispered reassurances to her while keeping an eye on the men who seemed so keen to take her from your arms.

“Here’s an idea: why don’t you tell the press the baby has died and start the process all over again.” A crude man, who looked like he was too old to even function properly, hollered from the back. “Hide the young girl. God knows a woman could never be President in this country.”

Your eyes harden at the man’s words, glaring at him as tears began to well up in your eyes. Your daughter didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, she was probably already more competent than half the men standing in front of you.

Claire, sensing your distress, grabbed your hanging necklace and babbled something to you. Although she was still fussy and upset, she wanted to comfort you.

Coriolanus shook his head at the men and his Grandmother as they spewed horrid ideas. You had just given birth and they already expected you to get pregnant again just so a boy could be born into the Snow name.

He became slightly panicked when Grandma’am approached you to try and grab the baby.

“Coriolanus,” You whispered to him as he stepped closer to you. “Please, don’t let anyone take her.”

He looked back at you and saw his family standing together—scared of what would happen to their peace they once had in their home. Coriolanus never thought it would happen in his life; Loving you. It came as soon as he saw the love and care you had for Claire. He didn’t know he could even love you, nevertheless the child you both brought into the world.

In his eyes, controlling Panem was true power, but the small family he created before him was something he could never replace with that power.

“All of you, get back and give us space to fucking breathe.” Coriolanus spoke coolly, watching the men twist their face in shock before stepping back, his grandmother stepping back as well at his rude language. “My wife and I will not be hiding our daughter, nor will we announce to the public that she has died.”

The men stared at him, half frustrated and half surprised at Coriolanus’ initiative.

“You cannot expect my wife to bear another child mere days after she has just given birth. And it isn’t up to a group of grown men to tell us—her—that she needs to bear a son. It’s up to her whether or not she wishes to have another child.” Coriolanus moved to stand beside you, putting a hand on your back. “Thank you so much for coming to my home unannounced, but unfortunately you will have to leave the premises before my peacekeepers are forced to find another way to get you off my property.”

They all grumbled and slowly shuffled toward the door before Coriolanus spoke again.

“Oh, and you’re all fired.”

You stifle a laugh as the men looked over at your husband like he was crazy, complaints filling the air before they were silenced at the sight of several guns pointed at their bodies from your peacekeepers.

“You didn’t have to fire them.” You murmur to Coriolanus as the last man exited the building.

“They were old. They don’t realize that a woman can ascend to presidency.” He pressed a muted kiss to the top of your head before turning his attention to his Grandmother. “How dare you let those men in?”

“Excuse me?”

Coriolanus narrowed his eyes at her, “You are not allowed back into my house for as long as I live. Do you know what kind of sick and twisted behavior those men possess? Letting them into my house—my manor— because you demanded answers isn’t doing justice to the Snow name.”

Grandma’am stared at her grandson with welling tears, hand over her mouth in shock. “You have no right to yell at me—“

“You had no right to come into my home where my wife and daughter lives. You put them at risk of death.” He took the keys from his Grandmother and threw them at a table. “Leave me and my family alone.”

She sobered up and glared before leaving the house, muttering something about raising him as a child.

You watched her leave a small smile on your face, Claire babbling something like she sensed your smile. Coriolanus turned back to face you and raised an eyebrow at your smile, silently questioning the look.

“She’s always disliked me even when she arranged our marriage.” You shrug. “Good to see her told off by her baby grandchild.”

He rolled his eyes in amusement before looking down at Claire, rubbing his knuckle against her soft cheek. “No one will hurt you, sweet girl. We promise.”

Your gaze softens as Claire leans into her father’s touch, your heart beating for the man you swore you would never love. Her parents might not have loved each other at the start, but thought of both of them protecting their daughter was enough love to fill in the void.

As years passed, genuine affection and love blossomed from you and Coriolanus. The men who once scolded your family were gone and replaced by younger, more open men and women. Grandma’am never stepped foot into the Presidential Manor again and never showed her face in public, forever shamed by Coriolanus.

And your daughter? She became Panem’s sweetheart, along with her younger brother.

You and Coriolanus were always forced to make decisions by every single person, but truly, your daughter was always favored in these choices. Because in the end, it was her birth that led her parents to be truthful and love one another.

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[tesnuzzik]

❄️Night of the Midwinter Ball❄️

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The Ascent of Mont Blanc, Auguste-Rosalie Bisson, 1861

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Season 4 | Episode 1 🔥