This Post Needs More Notes - Tumblr Posts

Coriolanus: i hate you

Lucy Gray: you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid

No, but for real 10/10!!!!! I love the idea of Tigris rebelling in her own way and being one of the few people that truly remember Lucy Gray Baird and the influence that girl had on people!

Also that part where Coriolanus said “honor them all after someone you didn’t really know,” is the pot calling the kettle black if I ever heard it.

Keep up the amazing writing!!! I’m off to reread all your works again lol (you can’t stop at just once)

somewhere over the rainbow

PART OF neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons by the sea DRABBLE SERIES ↠ masterlist

- Lucy Gray Baird & Daughter!OC, endgame Lucy Gray Baird x Coriolanus Snow

Summary: 2.6k words - Coriolanus attends Tigris' first fashion collection.

a/n: idk why this is so long, coriolanus thinks a lotta thoughts

tags-list: @cdragons

There was something different about Tigris. Recently, her eyes have regained their twinkle and she pranced around with a determination about her and, dare he say, a glint of defiance. The last he’d seen her looking so dynamic was when he came home from District 12, looking harried but alive, holding in his hand the first among the many checks yet to come from the Plinth Prize.

Coriolanus was not oblivious to the distance that grew between him and Tigris. He had been busy trying to keep up with being apprentice gamemaker and a budding politician. The steps necessary to get from one to another were delicate and had needed all his attention. Coriolanus had thought refurnishing the penthouse and all the benefits his family indirectly reaped from his efforts would be enough to make up for his absence, but Tigris didn’t seem to think so. He’d only been made known of her decision to live on her own one cold morning when he found Tigris in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea. She’d been nervous at first but she grew more confident and sure as she explained how it would be more convenient for her and how Ma Plinth would ensure that Grandma’am would be taken care of.

Coriolanus hadn’t been surprised. There’d been something flighty in Tigris eyes, something that had wanted to run ever since she’d made note of his similarity to his late father, ever since he stopped being Coryo to her.

He thought her a bit ungrateful. Why is it that the people he deemed worth keeping have a propensity for shying away from power? Why was he suddenly deemed undesirable just when he has the ability to provide and to protect them? Coriolanus wondered if that was the nature of his moving up in the world, to never be able to have everything and always having to trade what he always had for something greater.

Coriolanus refused to recognize the pervading feeling in his chest as loneliness. If Tigris no longer found her cousin charming because he was not helpless anymore, that was her decision. No matter how many diverging paths she chooses, Coriolanus will make sure that she would never be able to fully get out of his sight. Who knew what she would do when unsupervised? Get into trouble, that was what, if her behavior when given the distinct honor to be a stylist for the Games was any indication.

Coriolanus knew that she was more sympathetic to the tributes than most people. He had thought that giving her the job would curb those tendencies. Tigris had only ever seen the Games through the screen. If she had personal experience with the tributes, maybe she would realize that caring for the lives of the already dead was a futile gesture. There was no moral high ground to be found in it.

Looking back, perhaps it was the nail in the coffin for their once close relationship. Tigris’ first tribute won, but the rest had not been so lucky. There was a tendril of guilt in the sea of satisfaction he felt, seeing the haunted look in her eyes. Do you see it how I see it now? Caring won’t make a difference.

A few months before the 15th Hunger Games was set to begin, Coriolanus had been surprised when he saw Tigris at the breakfast table, conversing with Mrs.— rather, Ma Plinth while Grandma’am quietly ate. He stopped at the doorway, blinking away the sleepiness from staying up too late helping Dr. Gaul with the preparations. Upon seeing him, Ma jumped up excitedly and beckoned him inside the dining room, taking a short trip to the kitchen to fetch him a plate and a cup.

“Come sit, Coriolanus! Tigris has exciting news to share!”

He sat on the chair, picking up the envelope that Tigris slid across the table. The envelope was a sophisticated black color with holographic trimmings that shifted in the light, held close by a pressed flower wax seal. Coriolanus felt Tigris’ eyes on him, cataloging his reaction as he opened the invite to see the words “Tigris Snow’s Spectrum Collection” printed on the card inside.

Tigris’ work never suffered even when her spirits were down; but he felt as if this sudden burst of creativity came out of nowhere.

“I thought it was time for me to put out my first fashion collection,” she said. “I’ve been making custom orders and, of course, styling for the tributes but I’ve just been so inspired lately and, what better timing than doing it just before the Games? I would be too busy by then.” Tigris shook her head. “You’d come, won’t you? All of you. I would appreciate the support in case nobody else accepts the invite.”

“Oh don’t be silly, Tigris, dear. They would be a fool not to come.” Grandma’am interjected. “Only the mentally deficit would reject the invitation of the future president’s cousin.” Coriolanus held back a sigh. He loved the old woman but her fixation on his future presidency grew tiring sometimes.

“Fools indeed, Tigris,” Ma said with a kinder tone. “You’ve got real talent, the kind that changes the world. I can just see it.”

Tigris sent her a grateful smile. “You’re too kind.” She wasn’t wrong about Tigris’ talent even though Coriolanus highly disbelieved the extent to which the Plinth matriarch thought it would reach. These moments show just how district the woman was, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

“And you’re too modest! Be sure to save me a spot. My husband is unfortunately unavailable at that date but I’ll bring my checkbook with me.”

“Checkbook? What for?” It was the first time he’d spoken since waking, his voice scratchy and hoarse. He took a sip of tea to clear his throat.

“I’m holding an auction for the pieces after.” Tigris said. Coriolanus’ brows furrowed in puzzlement. Typically, designers in the Capitol would showcase their collections then maybe do a magazine spread before waiting for orders to come to maximize returns. It was generally a slow process.

“I’m not lacking for money, Coriolanus,” she added, exasperation in her tone. “I just want to create a buzz. You know how the Capitol is, the value lies in how much it takes just to get it. For my collections to have a certain reputation, it has to be held to a high standard since the beginning. If you miss it, you’ll lose it forever. That’s what I want them to know.”

Coriolanus only hummed in response. What she said made sense, but there was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that told him that that’s not all there was to it.

Hm, Coriolanus thought, tracing the calligraphy of the date on the card. If he finished the preliminary preparations by the end of the week, he just might be able to swing by. Perhaps it would be worth to find out what inspired his cousin.

Coriolanus began regretting his decision to go the moment he entered Tigris’ shop, which was bursting with a full crowd of Capitol citizens. The venue was ill-suited for the number of attendees. He seriously considered stepping out when a senator and his wife spotted him and called him out, attracting the attention of everybody else. He’d hoped to stay only for a short while, just enough to congratulate Tigris, and then go back to his work. His curiosity, unfortunately, would be left unfulfilled due to the mistake of one of the gamemakers under Dr. Gaul that the entire department was working hard to fix, including him. The Idiot, — because Coriolanus cannot be bothered to remember his name — went into the laboratory completely hungover, knocking over the delicate formulas of a hallucinogenic gas they were supposed to be already testing out two nights before.

He really did not have the patience to deal with people today.

With a practiced smile, he turned to greet Senator Carlisle and his simpering, overly-flirtatious wife. Coriolanus fought a recoil when she kissed his cheek, ruby red lips lingering just a bit too long. People really had no shame nowadays! She was, what, in her 60s now and married for more half of that if Coriolanus remembered correctly. She should be watching her back, not squeezing herself into stiff corsets that pulled her chest nearly to her neck.

Coriolanus was contemplating the merits of murder when he heard his name called out by a familiar voice. He sighed in relief when Tigris pulled him into a perfunctory hug, kissing his cheek and looping her arm around his.

“Thank you for coming, Coriolanus,” she smiled. “Will you excuse us Senator, Mrs. Carlisle? I have to escort my cousin to his seat.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to come,” Tigris said under her breath as she led him forward. “I heard through the grapevine that the gamemakers have been having some trouble with this year’s Games.”

Through the grapevine. If that was what you called the gossip about Dr. Gaul's very loud and very destructive outburst, sure.

“We’re making do,” he answered succinctly, finding his tongue tied about the exasperating details that he would have once shared with her. “We’ll be able to deliver on time, don’t worry.”

She muttered something under her breath that sounded an awful lot like “I wasn’t worried” but they’d already arrived at the seats. Only Ma Plinth was there, kissing his cheeks in greeting as she explained that Grandma’am had felt sickly today, thus the reason for her absence.

“Are you both comfortable? Anything I can get you?” Tigris asked in a rush. Coriolanus observed the telltale fiddling of her gloves that betrayed her nervousness.

“Nothing at all, my dear. I’m alright to just wait for the show.” Ma replied with a comforting smile.

Tigris turned to him. “Same goes with me.”

“Okay. Alright,” she took a deep breath. “The show is starting in a few minutes, I’ll be backstage for the most part, but I’ll be back during the intermission before the auction.”

Tigris turned to walk away before Coriolanus stopped her. He initially wanted to inform her that he was not going to be able to stay long, but sentiment got the best of him. This had been her lifelong dream, put on the back burner when she chose to not attend University in favor of working to support their family, to support him.

“Tigris,” he called out. “Congratulations.”

Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Thank you, Coriolanus.”

The show went relatively well until the last part.

Coriolanus had been sitting back, using the opportunity to relax on the soft seat as he absentmindedly took note of the models walking down the runway. He had always been vaguely aware of the fashion trends, most of his knowledge absorbed by virtue of being around Tigris. The Capitol, recently recovered from the war, had a propensity for fine fabrics in rich colors, trying to chase away the smoke and silence of the Dark Days.

Tigris’ collection was decidedly more out-of the box, extravagant and loud, divided into bright, monochrome outfits following the color spectrum. The crowd ate it up, polite claps graduating to cheers and the occasional wolf whistle. The behavior was a bit uncouth, but he had supposed it was a good indication of just how much money was going to be shelled out later.

He’d been admittedly zoning out, trying to curb the headache that formed just from thinking of the work he needed to go back to when he caught sight of the last model.

Coriolanus’ limbs locked as he saw the rainbow dress. The skirt was layered in full layers of tulle, significantly shorter in front, forming a window, but longer in the back, giving it a slight trail. The blouse was made of sheer fabric with bishop sleeves, the v-neck meeting the dip of an intricately molded breastplate placed on top of it.

That was not his girl. That was not Lucy Gray nor her dress, the model’s hair pin straight and a shade lighter, the dress too new. It was not, but it was close enough that it made his palms clammy, the crowd’s cheer a dull roar in his ears.

Ma Plinth was saying something, but Coriolanus could only blankly agree to whatever it was, everything else drowned out by anger and the persistent urge to run.

So he did.

He slammed the door behind him, taking in a deep breath of the crisp air outside of Tigris’ shop.

He didn’t know how much time passed, and just why he didn’t immediately go back to his office, when the door opened more gently than he shut it. Tigris leaned on the glass beside him, irritatingly silent.

“You should pull out that collection.”

Tigris did a double-take. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I wish I didn’t,” she hissed. “The answer is no, Coriolanus.”

“Dear Tigris, right now I am asking quite nicely, aren’t I?” Coriolanus replied acidly. “I doubt you’d like me to resort to other methods. You know, I could eliminate your career before it even takes off. I could make it so that nobody would step into your little shop and all the clothes on that stage right now would gather dust.”

“You’d make them forget, then? What, just like how you made everybody forget about Lucy Gray Baird?” In his youth, Coriolanus rarely incurred Tigris’ wrath. In fact, Tigris was rarely mad at all, even when her ex-employer Fabricia would clearly take advantage of her time and skills. Right now, she had all but forgotten that restraint, face flushed and eyes flashing at him. “You think that I don’t know? Flickerman has said nothing about her or the 10th Hunger Games ever since then, and during his late night show where he made mention of a particular “songbird”, his feed was cut immediately, coming back after a few minutes due to “technical error.” She’s always skipped over during the re-runs of the Victors every year, and even the library archives don’t have the tapes, and they have everything dating back from the 1st.

“You know what, Coriolanus? You want to try to erase her existence in your life, fine. But you don’t have a monopoly on her memory. Other people are allowed to miss her, to remember her, or to be inspired by her.”

Coriolanus sputtered, not even trying to deny her accusations of tampering with the records. He could have said it was Dr. Gaul who had done it, which was the truth, but he didn’t counteract his mentor’s decisions either. “You think I did it because I want— because I miss her?” he asked incredulously.

“Don’t you?” she asked. “I think that you miss her so much that you hate it. You hate that something so simple as color and clothes reminds you of her. I think that because you couldn’t cage her, you’d make it so that you’ll be the only one who remembers her. And god forbid anybody else does.”

“Lucy Gray is nothing to me!” Coriolanus growled, jaw clenched to prevent himself from shouting. He could feel the tension forming at his temples. Tigris didn’t know him at all. “She was an insignificant girl from an insignificant district, who would have died without me. She’s nothing more than a mistake I learned the hard way, a ghost that’s better left alone.”

“A ghost,” Tigris echoed. “Is that why she haunts you now? Coriolanus, what did you do to her?”

The snake bite on his arm that had long since scarred over throbbed. “You know what, I don’t care. Keep making your dresses however you desire. Hell, honor them all after someone you didn’t really know.” He straightened his coat and stepped away from Tigris. “But I will make sure that you never escape the Games, Tigris. Every year, you’ll work with a tribute and you can dress them in whatever latest act of defiance you made. And every year, they will die and die and die. Then you’ll learn that all this is for nothing.”