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#I wouldn't find my own house

healution · 3 months

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You know those streets where everyone's house looks the exact same way? How do people know which one is theirs?

#p #i wouldn't know #I could never live in a street like that #I wouldn't find my own house

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caffeineandsociety · 11 months

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Honestly, as much as many people point out how much large quantities of money spent by the ultra-wealthy on frivolous things could change their lives as a reason that the level of wealth inequality we're at is absolutely unconscionable, and they're ABSOLUTELY correct that it's a great illustration of the problem...

I think an underrated and equally important illustration is how much those quantities CAN'T do.

Let's think about a million dollars. That's a quantity that says "HOT DAMN, you REALLY made it!" to most people. That's a lot. It's more money than most people will handle at once in a lifetime.

And it can BARELY buy most single-family homes in California. It can't buy many that don't even qualify as McMansions, just...nice houses. It's even worse in NYC, where you can find apartments the size of a postage stamp that it can't buy.

And if you want to RETIRE with "just" a million dollars? You'd better hope you die soon.

Suppose you retire at age 55 with a million dollars. Congratulations! If you live to age 75, that's 50k a year. 85, it's $33k a year. 95? You've got $25k a year...and it's likely that you're ending up with medical bills that take an entire year's worth of money in one go. Ending up in assisted living? Well, the median cost of assisted living in the US is...$54k a year. Congratulations, ALL your money goes to rent now! Every cent! Better hope you die within 15 years!

You COULD avert this by putting the money in a high-yield account and only skimming off the interest, yes - the average retirement account, with an interest rate of 5-8%, would give you $52-83k a year...but even then, you have to have a million dollars in the first place and not withdraw from your initial principal, which, good luck doing THAT with the complications that tend to arise in old age and health insurance deductibles and coverage limits and loopholes to make you pay out of pocket. $83k a year may sound like a lot, and it certainly is to most of us, and even so, life has a way of eating through it fast, especially if you're retirement age.

In addition, there's a concept that I call "item debt" - it's about those things that, sure, you can SURVIVE indefinitely without them, but you will live a longer and healthier life if you have them. This can be anything from a stove that can actually maintain a constant temperature, to a computer that lets you do your job without freezing and crashing every few minutes, to assistive devices. Item debt can be the need for transportation in the US's car-centric society - you can't even afford a shitty old beater, so you have to take the bus 3 hours each way; the first thing you'll do if and when you get the money is buy a car and...then what? Your bills are no less impactful; if anything, they're worse because now you have to pay maintenance on the car. It can take the form of, "well, I really SHOULD be using a wheelchair, but I can't afford that and I can walk ENOUGH that my insurance won't even partially cover it, so guess I'll rely on this $10 cane until it inevitably gets worse." It can take the form of saying "I'd aggravate my various orthopedic problems a lot less if I had more power kitchen appliances, but those are expensive, so I guess I'll make do without" until you can't lift a bowl anymore without hitting 8 on the pain scale. It can be the empty first apartment, bare mattress on the floor, that's a wonderful improvement over wherever you came from but if you don't get a bedframe you're either going to wear out that mattress really fast and have to spend a ton of money replacing it, or have to strain to pick it up and let the underside air out every day, which may not seem like a lot now but will destroy your back over the years if the cheap mattress itself doesn't do it first.

Thing is, most people who are not MULTImillionaires have some form of item debt - and if you have multiple disabled family members or a sufficiently expensive illness in the family (e.g., need for a lung transplant, which can cost upwards of $1mil WITHOUT complications, or cancer that requires a particularly expensive type of chemo), sometimes it'll take something like $10mil to get out of it.

Again, we're talking about WAY more money than most people will see IN THEIR LIVES. We're talking about quantities of money that MOST people are expected to live our entire lives without. We would all live longer, healthier, happier lives if we could all have basic food and water, sufficient living space, and health care including home medical devices as needed, guaranteed. There is no scarcity reason why we SHOULDN'T have these things guaranteed to everyone except a many-times-over-disproven myth that everyone would just stop working and then we'd have no supply chain if we didn't have death by poverty as a constant looming threat.

And so these things remain out of reach to EVEN THE LOW END OF THE WEALTHIEST 10% OF AMERICANS.

And for what? 90% of the country is left second-guessing, postponing, or even outright foregoing NECESSITIES, and FOR WHAT?? So the top 0.5% of fucking assclowns can have megayachts and eat gold and spend amounts of money that could change people's lives on stupid and dangerous shit whose horrible safety standards they can then inflict on the rest of us??

If that doesn't piss you off and tell you something needs to change I don't know what will.

#$250k would be able to clear MOST of my item debt #i would be able to get all the kitchen appliances i need to stop destroying my body to cook #id be able to get some mobility devices and braces ive been badly needing #but it WOULDN'T be enough to get me a house that could actually meet my accessibility needs without moving ro a cheaper state #where i would know no one and not be able to see my own doctors anymore #now that ive FINALLY found a medical team that ACTUALLY works for me #and tbh i find THAT to be an even more damning illustration of the problem than what that money COULD do

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leebrontide · 1 year

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Every single time I see a take that amounts to "if you write about X happening, or like fiction where X happens, you like X" I'm reminded of this one time I was at a casual friends house as a young kid. We were in her room, pretending to "be orphans" escaping from an evil orphanage and having to take care of each other and fend for ourselves. It was all very Little Orphan Annie/All Dogs Go to Heaven and based on the 80s pop media.

And this girl's mom comes in, hears what we're playing and gets all MAD and UPSET. She says that if we play act something, it's because we want it to happen. So her daughter must WANT HER TO DIE.

First off lady, we were 6 year year olds, so take it down several notches. We barely had a concept of mortality for fucks sake. She made us feel so guilty and ashamed, because she was taking our game personally.

Now I have a 5 year old. And sometimes she looks at me and says "pretend you're dead, and I have to -" Whatever it is. Some adult task she's assigned herself.

And it's just so transparently obvious that she's practicing the idea of having to do things on her own. Which is exactly what 5 year olds are supposed to do. I actually find it very flattering that the only way she can envision me not being available to help her is to be literally deceased. Otherwise, obviously, she wouldn't have to do scary hard things alone.

It's a natural coping mechanism. She's self-soothing about what would happen if I wasn't there by play-acting independence in a perfectly safe environment. She's also practicing skills she needs, and making up excuses for practicing them on her own, without taking on the responsibility of being able to do them by herself all the time yet.

Humans mentally rehearse bad this in their brains all the time. We can do that by ruminating- going over worries over and over again, which tends to lead to anxiety and helplessness and depression. Or we can do it with a sense of play- by recognizing that the fiction is fiction and we can dip our toe into these experiences and expose ourselves to bad things without actually being injured.

My daughter does not want me dead. And I don't want bad things to happen in real life. But fiction and pretend help me face the horrors of the world and think about them without collapsing or messing myself up mentally.

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apollo-zero-one · 5 months

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you can't go to the bathroom when you want ? :((

Previously I lived in a house with 1 bathroom and 5 people so it was always occupied or always an ordeal of someone hanging on the door as soon as I was in there- or opening it without knocking if I forgot to lock the door. I could only shower in the middle of the night and even then I risked someone needing to go and, while half of my family members were willing to go while someone is in the shower, I was not and so I would rapidly rinse my hair and wrap up in a towel and flee. Being the only person home was rare but a blessing and the level of freedom I am aspiring to when I finally have my own place.

Currently I live in a house with 1 bathroom, 3 people and 3 dogs. The 3 dogs are the bigger issue here as I don't handle them super well- two are untrained puppies who jump on me and bite me, and while I know it's normal puppy behavior, it's scary and hurts. I don't feel comfortable trying to train someone else's dog and especially not disciplining them, so I just try to ignore the dogs and keep my hands and face away from them. My housemates who own the dogs shout at them when they see them jumping and biting, which... Feels like shouting at me, since it is in my direction and I'm letting it happen. I also don't believe shouting at the dogs in any way helps deter them. The shouting stresses me out at best and triggers me at worst. I'm just trying to get from my room to the bathroom and I am being jumped on, bitten, barked at, and yelled at. ...so you might understand why I have to wait until I am in a sturdy enough mental place before making the trek, or wait until they are sleeping or have gone out somewhere.

So, like, no one is stopping me from going to the bathroom ever, there are just a lot of obstacles and my baseline anxiety sits too high to cope with All That a lot of the time. (I have on occasion resorted to things I am not proud of because I know dealing with the banging or the shouting just isn't something I'm going to be able to handle in the next couple hours)

But I have a plan and I'm working hard and eventually I will have my own place. Soon soon soon I will be able to have a whole little home where I am not hiding from anyone and I can cook whenever I want and shower whenever I want and walk around my home in peace. If all goes according to plan, which it never does but I can hope, 3-6 months. Then I can finally, finally, finally have my own space.

#yea I know anxiety is the key player here #but theres nothing I can do about it. my doctor said there are no meds we can add to my current ones without too much risk.#the shouting in this house is stressing me out almost as much as the hoarding and mess going on in my mom's house #my dad's house is way too crowded to move into (5 people 2 bedroom house so even worse than my mom's house)#I just hope and pray I can find an affordable place without roomates. I just want to live alone so freaking bad please please please #(with my new job I don't qualify for affordable housing anymore. or mediaid which is gonna suck when it catches up to me--)#(you'd think. right. that making enough to not qualify for assistance should mean with the right budget I wouldn't struggle. right.)#(but the average rent in my area would still be my Entire paycheck. I will be looking in the tiny and cheap ones.)#soon it will just be me and a cat. and I will still hate work but at least I will be fully comfortable in my own home.#personal #asks #anonymous #maybe tmi #(sorry)

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dimiclaudeblaigan · 10 months

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Wrt localization, I can understand wanting to change let's say a joke if the context of the joke would be lost on people due to play on the language. But when someone changes the content of a story and characterization to the point where it's a completely different experience and then they have the audacity to say "have respect for the localizers. You support gg" or some nonsense in response to criticism, it's really disingenuous.

Not sure if you saw when I mentioned it before, but yeah. There are times when they have to make cultural changes (Pokemon did it with food to make more sense to the western audience!), change jokes that won't land in translation, etc. Those are reasonable changes that have to be made or the audience will just be confused/uninterested/disconnected.

Sometimes there are also jokes that in different cultures would be deemed inappropriate (like the sex joke aimed at Edelgard in the middle of the night - that makes sense that it was removed because western culture would've been largely uncomfortable with it). Age differences also account for this, in that what's seen as appropriate to a teen audience in JP is not necessarily considered appropriate in the west.

My viewpoint toward localization is that it should only be that. Everything else should be a faithful translation as much as is able, i.e. doesn't alter the message given in the original script. It doesn't matter if the content is from Japan, if it's a JRPG or what have you. If it was of French origin, I'd still say the same thing: that the messages and narrative of the French originating story should be handled faithfully and should be telling the same story/characterizations/etc to all audiences in any location.

Obviously in translation you can't make everything one to one or the sentences would sound off and/or broken. That's why you reword things to have the sentences structurally accurate in the translated language. Doing that, however, should not involve changing the meaning behind the sentence or trying to sell a different narrative. Doing that becomes a different story, even if only in bits and pieces. When a story nudges really fuckin' hard trying to tell you something that's wrong is right or that something right is wrong, but that narrative is only added into a loc and didn't already exist, it's a disrespect toward the writers and their original intention.

Even if, yes, the writers were very bias toward Edelgard (which they were as that was, again, confirmed in an interview), it didn't come at the cost of other characters. It didn't come at the cost of Rhea being worse, Dimitri being worse, or Claude being worse. It didn't come at the cost of her allies all being disgusted by their enemies that they were invading. They loved Edelgard when they were writing her, but they didn't make that cloud how they treated other characters (and while yes, the Nabateans get largely ignored in favor of focusing on Edelgard and such, it's not at the cost of their characterization or to make them seem worse).

Even if the loc heaps praise upon praise toward Edelgard and that doesn't harm the original intent, it's what they do to other characters that disrespects the original content. It would be like if they took FE10/RD and had Ike (who was actually just and a good person) spouting nonsense about Micaiah that just wasn't true, hyping up his allies to kill her because she Must Die.

Personally, I'm no Micaiah fan. She was one of my most hated characters in the franchise until Edelgard (and Berandetta) showed up. I still am not fond of Micaiah and she's still pretty low on the rung for me. That said, I would not enjoy a narrative where Ike wrongfully labeled her and her allies and provided his people (and the Laguz Alliance by extension) a false narrative about her. If those things about her were true I wouldn't care, but they wouldn't be. Why does that not work for Ike? Because it's not who he is as a character to say those things, and thus if he did, it means something is off.

The original has some ??? points about Edelgard that favor her/lift her up, but again, it's not doing harm to other characters. Yeah, we get the whole "they are the enemy" stuff from her side, but like... that's the point. If you team up with her, you're on her side and are seeing the story through her perspective, which makes her enemies, well, the enemies. They're viewed in a bad light on that one route.

But when you actually come into contact with the characters in question? It's not as bad as she makes it out to be. She, as the protagonist of her own story, makes other named characters and their ways of living sound very bad because she views them negatively, but we don't actually see what she claims if we personally come into contact with those characters.

What the loc does is have her say those things, understandably from her side, but then trash the characters' very characterization and personality to match her and her/her allies' opinions of them. The characters reflect her views with no pushback whatsoever, when it should be that the pushback is how those characters she talks about behave.

There should be a dissonance between her thoughts about them and who they truly are. It should make you question, "is this really right?". You should feel bad when you kill genuinely good people (like Sylvain. You shouldn't feel like he's some trash scumbag, but feel upset about his death and find yourself questioning why he had to die - not cheering for his death).

Point being, the loc changed that stuff because ??? I guess they wanted Edelgard to shine at her very absolute brightest, and the only way to do that was to harp on all the characters who opposed her. I don't understand why they would do that tbh (like I know the intent, i.e. making her look good, but I don't know why they went to such lengths to vilify her enemies and not just say hey, maybe she's wrong about these people but I'm still going to fight for her, if fighting for her is what you decided to do. The one idea I have is the final paragraphs of this post).

It just makes it feel a lot like purist culture, where if you've sided with her than they can't possibly let her be actually bad and do bad things. You've sided with her, so she simply cannot be a villain! It makes the loc team seem afraid of a concept of siding with the villains, feeling the need to change it because it's BaD to play a game/route where you do that. It feels like it's portraying the idea that if you do bad things in a video game, you condone those bad things irl.

Whether that was their thought process or not, that's exactly what it comes off as, and that since they loved Edelgard they couldn't portray her poorly unless there was no other option. In the times they do finally portray her poorly via other characters, there's always pushback in some form, like someone defending her, giving her the benefit of the doubt after everything she'd already done and still intended to do, or being sad about fighting/killing her. In the original that was still there, but the loc just added to it - just by doing a whole lot of damage to other characters in the process.

Meanwhile with Rhea, there's always negative pushback. If she does something good, there's a negative thought following her good actions. Obviously there isn't space for that to happen literally every single time, but when possible it's there. Again, this is another thing the loc amped up, and I can only guess it's because she's the head of the Church (and churches are viewed as the enemy in most JPRGs) and the main person Edelgard opposes (with no acknowledgement from the loc team, about why that is, being a bad thing).

It's like, the one time there's a game where the Church isn't actually the enemy, they... made it so that the loc reflected that the Church is still actually the enemy. Churches being the enemy are so common that it was intentionally used in the original script as a red herring. You think they're gonna be the big bads because they always are in JRPGs.

The point of that was meant to fulfill itself as a red herring, making you focus on them and scrutinize everything they said and did even heavier than you would anyone else. It makes everything Edelgard does get swept under the rug and causes the player not to notice until it's fastballed at you. That's why you end up fighting her and not the Church except if you're specifically on her route.

That was lost in loc, of course, and it got so overwhelmingly popular in the west (which I do believe is a reason they did it to begin with, i.e. made the Church the baddies by western viewpoint because the west apparently eats that shit right up) that Hopes catered most strongly toward the western audience, making the Church the big bads (who... don't even do anything wrong whatsoever in this game and hardly even exist to do so, but I can only guess they got largely ignored because they were so hated, and less positive interaction with them meant less worry of killing innocent people/more not caring about them as the enemy) of two routes out of three; not because that was the original script's intent, but because they just went with what was popular even if it went against their home game's intention. I was pretty unsurprised to find out this went over very badly with JP players.

In other words the loc was so widely understood as the true canon/intent of the story (despite its vast and drastic changes) that Hopes was crafted around the loc more than it was the original script. The loc of Houses altered so much that it changed the perception of the audience consuming it, so whether the JP writers are aware that that's why the game was consumed the way it was or not, they just knew a chunk of the western audience loved Edelgard and hated Rhea.

When I play a game I want the same story and experience that everyone has playing it. I don't want to understand it differently than it's meant to be understood and was understood in the region it was created in. If it's a dark and mature themed game, it should stay that way. It western audiences can't handle that, then the game shouldn't be played by them whether it comes out in the west or not.

If you can't handle the content of a video game, you shouldn't play it, plain and simple. No amount of "oh but I like this portion of it!" changes the overall narrative that you can't handle and/or don't like (and you wouldn't know you like a part of it if you didn't play it at all, which you did play it despite knowing it's largely not for you. If you didn't know but play it and find out, you put it down and move on). The game's messages should not be altered to fit purists or baby the players. If it needs to be edited that strongly to work in the west, my feeling on it is that it should not be released in the west.

If it is released, the story should not be altered to baby its audience. If people do play it despite that and can't handle it, it's their responsibility to stop playing it and not bitch at the people who released it (in any region) or bitch at the loc team for not changing anything (i.e. bitching that the loc team didn't change creative aspects of the story to fulfill another region's agenda).

Why does that happen though? Capitalism, quite frankly. Companies prefer the money added to their coffers than to keep the originality of a creative piece of art. They'll follow any political agenda that's popular, any social media agenda that's popular, etc, even if it means changing creativity.

They want the most people possible to purchase it, so if more people will buy the product, even if it means sullying the creative work of the original writers, they'll do it. That may not be true worldwide, but it absolutely is with many western companies. If the narrative of a game doesn't fit what western culture agrees with, they'll change it to make it so that western culture agrees with it (re: the Church).

Localization shouldn't exist to change a work of art/to change any media form for the sake of just releasing it in another region for the profit, but it does happen; hence why I prefer translation to loc. Over the years I've grown to hate western localization more and more.

If localizers have to work that badly to change what already exists (including changing the intent of the creator(s)), I have zero respect for their "efforts" for trying to alter a story and possibly even pursue a particular agenda (because we play games to have fun and enjoy something, not to have irl agendas thrown back in our faces).

Translators who go through loops upon loops to make sure the story stays as intact as possible with only changes of necessity are the ones I respect. Translating things to keep the meaning of a story is a lot more difficult and trying than just going "well how about we just completely change this and then we don't even have to think about how to work it out".

Also, there's a difference between pursuing an agenda or writing something to fix a glaring issue like racism. If there are aspects of a media that got changed in the west to eliminate racism (which is often, especially in Japan from my understanding based on other media I consume, done because of ignorance and not genuinely harmful intent), that's understandable.

That alone shouldn't alter a whole story though, and if it has to because the racism or whatever it is is that bad, then the work should simply not be released in the west! Simple as that! If it's that bad, why support those things by changing them to sound nicer/better and let the original product still generate revenue?

Now, is all localization this bad? No. Is Houses' localization bad enough that it changed an entire region's perception on the contents of the game? Yes. That's a no no for me.

I respect localization that does its best to keep the same story and change what won't work in another region (including what may be deemed unacceptable in said region or really toes a line of general regional discomfort).

I do not respect localization that sticks in the team's own biases or tries to push any kind of agenda to appeal to certain people. If a piece of creative media is created without the intention to push any kind of agenda, it should remain that way and not suddenly have things added to it for that purpose.

I respect creative media. I don't respect capitalism and changing content to cater to a specific subset of an audience, including the staff's own.

#DCB Ask #my response to this isn't just about Houses (that's a chunk of it) but also about loc itself #if I ever made a book or even just an eBook that got translated #I would NOT want what happened to Houses happening to my writing #personally I'd just straight up ask it to be removed and unavailable in that region unless/until #the people behind translating/localizing it fixed it to fit the narrative I set for my /own/ writing #if there were consumers from another region who got a different story entirely from the region I released it in #there's something wrong that happened between regions and unfortunately most ppl don't realize that #most ppl will assume whatever is in the loc was the author's intent #which means anything that looks bad in that region now reflects on me as the author #and it's even worse if it causes controversy. for example like the stuff we get in Hopes #the amount of underlying racism. I haven't seen the entire JP script but like #at this point I don't know if my concerns should be aimed at the localizers or the original writers #I wouldn't want that for my own writing. I wouldn't want people questioning ME based on loc changes #when I view in depth how I feel abt smth I prefer to put myself in the situation #and figure out how I'd feel about it. that's why with Houses I don't find it acceptable #it's not something I'd want to happen to my own writing. look at how Edelgard is viewed now overall #she's the most controversial character surrounded by negativity that FE has ever seen #despite having a character borderline identical to her in the past in one of the most beloved and acclaimed titles #and most of that is... bc of the loc :(

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kasagia · 5 months

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Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

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odinsblog · 11 months

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“One weird, silver lining positive from the WGA's strike has been a sense of calm over a reality that has plagued me with anxiety for years — the fact that despite having a great agent, manager, and lawyer, despite having been in hundreds of rooms with top execs and producers, despite having pitched countless networks, and despite having sold multiple pilots and pitches, I still work in food and bev. For so long, it felt like such an embarrassment in so many ways because it felt like I was the only one who was biding time in between sales with a side hustle. When I would tell people at work that I wrote television, they'd look at me like I had ten heads, or like I was delusional. They couldn't IMAGINE someone who *actually* wrote television would also be asking them what temp they wanted their salmon.

But the reality is, TV money goes fast, especially when it's just a pilot sale. And if shit doesn't get picked up to series, that money only lasts for so long. Being responsible meant swallowing my pride and keeping a job that was more consistent and steady but also gave me the ability to take pitch meetings, to write on my down time, do rewrites, answer e-mails, and take notes calls.

And for so long I thought I was a minority in that regard. Like I had done something wrong to not be successful enough to rely solely on my career as a writer.

Yet the strike has pushed SO many stories to the forefront of writers doing the exact same thing I've done, GOOD writers, great writers, writers who shit I watch all the time, whose names I instantly recognize, whose reputations in this industry precede them. So when the studios leaked that the goal was to bleed writers dry, to make it so we lost our homes, I had to laugh. Writers like me will literally do anything to keep the dream of writing alive. It's in us. It never goes away, no matter how many steaks you server, how many martinis you mix, how many cold calls you make, how many Uber passengers you pick up, how many pizzas you have to deliver. We always always always find a way to make it to that next great hope of a pitch, a sale, a green light.

And that's how you know that the CEOs are so fucking out of touch with reality. With the industry. With the POINT of the industry the point for most (not all, but most) has never been to be filthy rich, or own a yacht, or even have a membership to SoHo house. It's been to make something we love. To see it come to life, and make other people happy, or sad, or angry, or scared. To take this story you have kicking around your head and turn it into some epic journey. To be part of the process of making worlds and characters come to life. To tell stories.

The CEO's point has been to make as much money as humanly possible. And so they think that's all there is motivating writers. it's not. It never has been. Just because those CEO's wouldn't wait tables or mix drinks or drive a Lyft in order to keep a dream going, doesn't mean the rest of us wouldn't. The CEO's don't have a dream, they have a lifestyle. And I promise you a dream is a much better motivator than a yacht or a Porsche.

Try to bleed us dry, guys. Just because you'd let your own dream bleed to death, doesn't mean we would. We will always find a way to keep it alive.”

—Stefanie Williams, a tv writer on strike

#hollywood #writers strike #corporate greed #bob iger #disney #living wages #wga strong #sag aftra #writers #writing #dreams

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awildtei · 8 months

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I know this is not new information, but I've seen a fresh wave of people confused about what the fuck Andrew planned to do as a 5'0 man with a knife against the literal mafia, so.

I think the fact that neither Neil nor Kevin lost their faith in Andrew’s ability to protect them after he was attacked by Drake (unable to stand his ground against a single man with a bottle, let alone the Yakuza/Nathan with their guns) is the best proof we have that the deal was never about physical protection. This is confirmed by the way Neil never expects Andrew to save him from his father, in fact cuts him loose before Baltimore as soon as danger is truly near.

Andrew is a pretty self-aware character, and he wouldn't make promises he knows he can't possibly see through, so I think he knows what Kevin and Neil also know: what they need from him, and thus what he promises, is not physical protection.

To Kevin, he promises safety from the Moriyamas, and the way we see him enact that safety (at Kathy's show, at the banquet) shows exactly what it's about: when Riko starts getting into your head, when he makes you doubt yourself, makes you think maybe you should go back to Evermore, I won't let you. I will get you away from him, I will treat him like he's just some dude to remind you that you can face him without kneeling. I will be your spine until you find your own, I will stand my ground for you until you can do it yourself.

That's why the scene when Kevin gets to the dorm with his tattoo and Andrew's eyes show so much feeling is huge not just for Kevin but for Andrew: because that was the whole point of their deal, Kevin has found his spine, Andrew bought him the space and time to do it.

To Neil, he promises safety from the people hunting him down, and that means: I will give you something to build a life around (keys, drives to nightly exy practices, someone to lean on, someone who will listen without flinching). When you feel like running, I will be someone you can call to come pick you up. When you forget, I will remind you who you are: Neil Abram Josten.

Andrew stands between Kevin and Riko and between Neil and his father not as an impenetrable wall but as an obstacle in their vision: not shield but focal point.

(Makes me think of that scene in The Haunting of Hill House, Hugh holding Steven's neck to keep him from looking at the ghosts, saying, Look at me, just look at me, keep your eyes on me. That's what Andrew’s constantly doing --even literally, when Kevin is spiralling after Wymack tells the team about the district change and Andrew makes him look away from his broken hand and up at him).

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #andreil #many thoughts head full #tei's

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