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hidden-poet · 2 days ago

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Poison: part 2

Summary: Coriolanus always hated Sejanus Plinth. He had everything that Coriolanus should of had; money, influence, and you.

Warnings: Coryo being de-lu-lu, unrequited love, Reader insert, dark!Coriolanus snow, unedited, dead dove to not eat

Word count: 15,053

Part 1 here

Part 3 coming.

Coriolaus wakes early the next morning and races to the Citadel to drop off Dr Gauls homework.

He carried his anxiety about Dr Gauls potential comments along with him to his session with Lucy-Grey.

He struggled to sit still, twirling his pen around and around in his hand. It was not how he wanted to present himself to Lucy-gray.

What he wanted was her trust, her loyalty, her obedience. Things that would be hard to gain if he gave off a school-boy impression.

Instead he forced his nails into the palm of his hand under the table, and tried to focus on Lucy-Gray as she spoke.

“I am sorry about your friend”, she offered.

“Thank you”, he returned.

“That other girl. Was she okay? The guards whisked you away so fast. I couldn’t see-”.

Something about her asking about you made Coriolanus irritated.

He supposed it was just the image it brought back. The sheer shock upon your face, the fear that he wouldn’t get to you in time.

“She’s fine”, he interrupted. His pen began twirling in his hand again.

He wished he could have seen you this morning to check on you. You most likely woke up in the arms of Sejanus. He wouldn’t check on you like he should. His first words would have been complaints about the games.

He shouldn’t be here really. Who choses mentoring a boy sure to die rather than taking care of you at home. Coriolanus bet he made no protest when you got ready for school.

If it had been Coriolanus, as it should be, he would have ensured you stayed home in bed. He wouldn’t have left your side after yesterday. He wouldn’t have even let you be there yesterday.

First Sejanus causes the wound, and then he isn’t man enough to take care of you properly. How sweet it will be, the day you finally belong to Coriolanus Snow.

“I need you to sing in these interviews. It’s your last chance to win people over. I can’t send you gifts in the area without their money”, he states.

“Maybe a guitar could persuade me. Maybe”, Lucy-gray offers.

“Snow. Dovecote” Dean highbottom calls.

Coriolanus whips around to see Peacekeepers waiting for them by the door.

He could piece the clues together to come to the conclusion that Dr Gaul had called them.

Clemmie on the other hand waited until they were climbing the Citadel steps to ask her obvious question.

“She can’t actually have expected us to write that report. Could she? I was crying for hours last night”.

Corionaus sighs. If Clemmie had kept her mouth shut he would have been next to you. You’d be nervous and in need of comfort, no matter how tough you talked.

“We did write it. I handed it in this morning”, he states.

This time Clemmie sighed, “Great, give me the highlights”.

Coriolanus obliged her if only to keep his mind focused. His bullet points took him up the entry stairs and through the doorway to Dr Gauls lab.

The lab exceeded coriolanus horrific expectations.

It was cold and the large space only housed a long corridor of strange creatures in glass cabinets.

Coriolanus taps the casing of a fish-type creature only to see if it moves.

Its eyes shoot open only for a second before falling back into a drugged sleepy state.

What exactly was Dr Gaul doing? What were these things? For what purpose could they be used for?

“Mr Snow. Ms Dovecote. Come and see my new babies”. Dr Gaul's voice boomed in the empty space.

Coriolaus left the fish, following Clemmie as Dr Gaul led them to a new section and over to a large tank of colorful serpents.

The rainbow moved within the glass in perfect sync. It was hard to tell where one snake started and another ended.

“Is there a point to the color?”Clemmie asked.

Dr Gaul scoffs at her as she ascends the stairs to the top of the glass cage.

“There’s a point to everything, Ms Dovecote, or nothing at all”, Dr Gauls answers.

She spins to face the children, and rests against the side of the enclosure.

“I must say I was expecting Miss y/n, in your place Ms Dovecott”.

“As I said, Dr Gaul, Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together”, Clemmie defended.

“Which is exactly why I was expecting the other one”. Dr Gauls eyes flick to Coriolanus, “exactly, which part did you write Miss Dovecott?”.

Coriolanus tries to pull Clemmie out of the hole she was in but Clemmie talks over top of him.

“There was-”.

“I was inspired by Coriolanus, of course. But the sponsorships, and the gifts in the arena. They were all mine”, she cut him off.

“Clemmie”, he warns. Dr Gaul already knew she played no part. Lying to her would only aggravate her sadistic tenancies.

Dr Gual takes the bait. Crossing her hands in an almost gleeful manner she addresses Clemmie.

“So it’s your sweaty handwriting on that page? Very impressive, Miss Dovecote”, Dr Gauls fawns.

Coriolanus knew it was a tease. He anticipated the come down and the potential consequences of her lie.

“Unfortunately’, Dr Gaul continues, “My assistant mistook it for trash and lined the shelf of this very terrarium with it”.

Dr Gaul slides back the hatch to show the students the paper that was trapped between the snakes.

“Retrieve it for us, won't you? So we might all consider your inspired ideas”, Dr Gaul smiles.

Coriolanus hand twitched. He imagines you in Clemmies place now. How close he would have pulled you. How his own hands would latch themselves over yours and shield them against your chest.

He wondered if he should do the same for Clemmie. She was an old friend, and her grades helped him to the top.

Still he only stood back and watched. Half-Curious as to what would happen.

The snakes couldn't be poisonous. Dr Gaul wouldn’t play with a students life. Especially a student from a high status family like Clemmie’s.

Maybe. Coriolanus thinks back to the weird, mutated animals that lined the hallway. There was really no telling what Dr Gaul was capable of.

“Don’t worry. My little predators are perfectly docile with those they can trust. So if they’re used to your scent, if you’ve handled their food, for example, or if they have inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page..they’ll leave you alone. If not, You’d be on your own, little girl”.

Coriolanus knew from her words that Dr Gaul words were a threat. Those Snakes would harm Clemmie.

Yet she reached her hand into the enclosure.

“Clemmie!” Coriolanus grits.

He is ignored to her own peril.

As soon as her hand brushes against the edge of the page, a Snake lashes out and strikes the flesh that proposes to retrieve the paper.

Clemmie screams upon impact. Trying desperately to shake the snake from her hand, she loses balance and topples off the stand.

“Clemmie! No, no!” Coriolanus attempts to catch her as she falls, but Dr Gaul hinders him by pulling him back by his arm.

She lands with a heavy thud on her back. Gasps fill the air as she tires to regain her breath.

Already she looked pale. The skin on her hand turned a pale green color, and her eyes refused to blink or look anywhere else but directly in front of her.

“You asked about the colors, Ms Dovecott. I want my enemies to see a rainbow of destruction engulfing the world. I am not above using spectacle to create a little terror. A strategy your classmate here articulated very well in his proposal”.

Coriolanus watches as two peacekeepers and assistant come running over. The assistant administered a large needle which helped Clemmie regain her breath but not her composition.

The Peacekeepers then, without care, began to drag Clemmie across the floor and out a near door.

Coriolanus was left alone with Dr Gaul who turned her attention to him.

“I wonder if y/n would have chosen the same decision?”, she questioned.

“Will she die?” Coriolanus asked in a hard tone. More than Dr Gaul mentioning you, he hated the image of you lying in Clemmies place.

Dr Gaul shrugs her shoulders as if it didn’t really matter.

“The pleasure of breaking ground in one’s research is one gets to find out”, she dismissed.

She smirks as she turns back to the enclosure. Her hand reaches in and she begins to play with her pet snakes.

“You don’t like me talking about her do you?”, Dr Gaul picks up a loose piece of paper and thrusts it at Coriolanus, “for a boy who came up with these proposals, you sure do wear your heart on your sleeve”.

The paper crumbles in Coriolanus' grip. He looks at it to avoid eye contact with Dr Gaul.

“What would Miss y/n think if she saw them? They’re good, these proposals. I am planning to implement as many as possible”.

This causes Coriolanus to look up at Dr Gaul. If you knew, you were sure to never forgive him.

“Don’t worry” Dr Gaul said, as if she could read his mind, “I’ll take credit for this one. Miss y/n is yet to realize her place in this world”.

Dr Gaul closes the hatch to the snakes enclosure, turning her body towards Coriolanus.

“And who is to be beside her, wouldn’t you say?”, she taunts.

Coriolanus straightens up, dropping the ruined paper to the ground.

“Y/n isn’t part of this conversation”, Coriolanus snaps.

Dr Gaul grins at him in response, stepping closer so she could talk quieter but still be heard.

“We both want a new world, Mr Snow. My only question is how far are you willing to go to get it?’

She doesn’t let him answer. Seemingly, now bored of the conversation.

“Now run along, you have an arena to promote and it’s time for my milk and crackers”, she dismisses.

He takes the chance to leave. Storming down the steps and back along the hallway as fast as he could.

Coriolanus tries to keep himself from running out of the Citadel. He nearly stumbles over his feet trying to get out as quick as he can.

Turning behind him every so often to make sure no one was following him.

The whole scene plays in his mind again and again.

He was glad it wasn’t you in the end. You were already so traumatized after yesterday, it was a relief to not have to put you through that ordeal.

The walk through of the arena was not for another hour. He had time to check on you.

He was sure you were at school. Your parents wouldn’t let Sejanus into the house, and you wouldn’t have left Sejanus after yesterday. There was little chance you would have stayed at the Plinths. A smaller chance of Sejanus forcing you to as he should have.

Suddenly, Sejanus’ lack of care turned out to be a good thing.

Sejanus would be with his mentor getting ready for the tour. Which meant Coriolanus could see you without company.

He knew your class schedule well. He liked the knowledge while he was in one class, he knew which one you were in.

So he knew where to go and wait until the bell rang.

A group of people rushed out of the classroom before you. You were the only one walking alone so you were easy to spot.

You almost walk past him but he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the line of people to a quiet staircase.

“Coriolanus?” you question.

You don’t fight him as he pulls you against the wall and stands in front of you like a shield.

The people who walk past eye the scene but make nothing of it.

“Coriolanus, are you okay?” you question.

He couldn’t tell you about Clemmie and Dr Gaul but he was also so desperate for comfort.

“Is it Arachne?” you ask. He nods his head ‘yes’ although his mind was far from it.

You put your hand that was free from the weight of your books on his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault’’, you console.

“I just wish I could have done more”, he lied.

He had thought little about Arachne since last night. But she was once again bringing you closer to him.

You shake your head, a sad expression pulls across your face and he instantly regrets his lie. Yesterday was traumatic to you, he shouldn't have played it up just for some sympathy.

“No” you repeat, “what happened was no one's fault but her own”.

He wanted to make the argument that perhaps the fault lies with no one else but the tribute, but it would open a conversation he did not want to have.

Instead he reaches up and places his hand on your elbow that had reached out to him.

“Are you okay?” he asks. It should have been his first question.

“I am fine” you say.

Your hand drops from his shoulder and he is forced to put his hand on the brick wall next to your hip.

The position wedged you in a corner. With his tall frame towering over you and now his arm blocking you in. It felt as if you were trapped.

“You should talk to someone. Arachne was your friend”, you state.

You shuffle slightly forward to hint to him that he was too close but he remains stagnant in his place.

“Arachne was not my friend”, he deflects.

You never liked her which meant Coriolanus never liked her.

“You're my friend. Arachne was just someone I grew up with. I hardly knew her”, Coriolanus tried a softer tone as his previous speech came off harder than intended.

He offered a kind smile that you did not return.

“I’ve been worried about you all day” he breathes.

His hand moves to your hip, and you are quick to push it off.

“Coriolanus you are acting strange, perhaps you should go see the school doctor. No one would blame you if you chose to drop out of mentoring after yesterday”.

Strange you called it. Not a man desperately in love. But a mad man that needs to be taken away.

This causes him to take a step back away from you. His eyes go down to the ground but shoot back up at you. Mentoring. In a haste he checks his watch.

He was supposed to be at the Arena in fifteen minutes but he is twenty minutes away.

He groans, cursing the length of the Citadel from here, and cursing your late class.

“I have to leave”, he says, “i just came to make sure you were okay”.

“I am”, you acknowledge.

He steps forward again, placing his hands on your shoulder blades and pulling you forward into his chest.

You stumble into him, timidly raising your hands to pat his lower back.

“Forget your last class, you should go home”, he begs.

He feels you push back against him so he lets you go and takes a step back.

“You should worry more about yourself. You look so pale”.

When you reach out to touch his forehead, he leans into your touch. Loving the way your little warm hand felt.

He knew it didn’t mean anything. You were kind. He could have been anyone and you would have done the same thing.

Still he allows himself a second of pretend that it meant more.

“I have to go”, he says again, “Just promise me that you’ll go home”.

“Sure, Coriolanus”, you amuse.

It was enough to hear it. He didn’t need to believe it.

With a final smile, he reaches up to touch your elbow once more and leaves you in the dark corner.

His run to the arena would have been easier for him if he had any fuel to burn.

His breakfast of a single potato did not provide enough energy to make the distance, yet he pushed himself further than his body wanted him to.

It paid off when he reached the arena just in time for walk-in.

He filed in next to Lucy-Grey seconds before the doors opened.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it”, lucy-Grey admits.

“We’re going to win this” Coriolanus vows, “Together”.

The arena is dark. An ominous red glow from the ticket vendor invites them in.

The camera crew are already there, pointing their large frames in the faces of the tributes.

Lucy-Grey smiles at it, before it pans to a Solomon looking Sejanus walking behind his tribute.

When the shutters open, the streaming light startles Lucy-Grey who pulls back against Coriolanus.

He steadies her, looking around for possible strategies.

“Please” Lucy-Grey grabs his arm to turn him towards her, “Please, Coriolanus, don’t let me die in here tomorrow”.

Before he can answer he is knocked off his feet by a large explosion. He feels heavy gusts of wind from three other directions meaning there was no safe direction he could turn too.

Lucy-Grey lands beside him, and he scrambles to help her to her feet.

The dust is heavy and clouds them. He could feel lucy-gray in his grasp but could only faintly see her. The screams and commotion make it impossible to hear what she is trying to say.

Another loud explosion tore the roof down over them.

He releases Lucy-gray so they could both run for cover.

Days of the war spring to his memory. The rebels were back to finish him off.

The force of the explosion knocked him off balance and onto the floor.

He could see peoples feet as they scramble past but none stop to help him.

A louder, cracking noise spoke of his bigger issue and he turns to see a large pailing coming down towards him.

Knowing he wouldn't have enough time to get to his feet, he began to crawl as fast as he could.

It wasn’t fast enough. The hot metal pailing pins his shoulder to the ground. He could smell his own flesh burning as he lay trapped.

Was this how it ended? He regrets not kissing you today. He had always been reserved. Afraid of your rejection. But he should have just took. Now he’ll die without ever getting to taste you.

Through the smoke he could see Lucy-Grays boots come into view.

“Help me” he begs. He still had so much to do.

She looks to be bending down to assist when she is interrupted by Marcus flying across towards the open door.

“Leave him” he demands, “He wouldn’t save you”.

Marcus doesn’t stick around for her decision. Running to his freedom just across the room.

It was true, if it come down to it Coriolanus would save himself. But Lucy-Gray needed him to survive. She would only get caught in the Capitol and then thrown in the area without a mentor.

She must have realized that too because she bent back down to lift the burning metal off Coriolanus. She didn’t have to lift it far for Coriolanus to roll out from under it.

He is panting heavily he realizes, and is unable to move his shoulder.When Peacekeeper came to take lucy-gray away. Coriolanus couldn’t even rise from the floor to stop them.

He throws out his good hand in an attempt to do something. But the searing pain in his shoulder and his cloudy head hindered him from being able to help.

The last image he could see was her looking down at her burnt hands before it all went black.

His pounding headache woke him to the sight of you by his bed.

He didn’t believe it. He had to be dead.

His hand lashes out to take a hold of your wrist. You felt real.

Your reaction seemed real. A startled look of surprise and discomfort.

“Woah, Corio, take it slow”, the voice of Tigres calls to him.

He looks away from your face to see Tigres sitting in the chair next to you.

“What?” Coriolanus questioned, “What happened?”.

He lets go of your wrist only so he could rise from the bed. The ache in his shoulder becoming more apparent as he moved.

“It was a rebel bombing. They must have been planning it for months. Four tributes were killed”.

Coriolanus almost scowls hearing his voice.

Sejanus sat in a chair positioned on the other side of the bed. You hadn’t come to him in his hour of need. You were merely tagging along with your boyfriend.

“Everyone is terrified, Corio” Tigres explains, “Fliex Ravenstill is on life support”.

“The rebels released a message. They said they want to tear down the symbol of the Hunger Games. Marcus got out. He’s the only one. Peacekeepers are hunting him in the streets but at least he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow”, Sejanus gravely mutters.

“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus expounds, “They’re not still going ahead with the Games?”

“We can’t look weak in front of the enemy,” you spat, “Everything is going ahead as scheduled. I don’t even know if Lucy-Gray will be able to play tonight”.

“The interviews”, Coriolanus guessed, still hazy.

He pulls himself up out of bed, holding out his arm for you to help his rise.

You do, automatically, hooking his good arm over your shoulder and wrapping your arm across his waist to keep him up.

‘‘You shouldn’t get out of bed”, you criticize him.

Normally he wouldn’t ignore you, but the interviews started fifty minutes ago.

Sejanus rises to in order to assist Coriolanus as he shuffles forward, but Coriolanus barks another order at him.

“Sejanus, turn the Tv to the interviews”.

Like a good dog, he obeys. Leaving another man hanging onto his girlfriend.

“Careful, Corio” Tigres directs.

Coriolanus takes tigres arm as he couldn’t lift his shoulder so all his weight wasn’t passed on to you.

The Tv turns just in time to watch Lucy-gray come out with a guitar, and a big smile.

Sejanus makes his way over to you, offering to take your place as Coriolanus’ anchor.

He is quick to speak for you. Stating that the change would topple him to the floor.

Sejanus relents and takes his place beside you. You made no complaints so Coriolanus’ weight couldn’t have been hurting you.

Coriolanus had missed the opening introduction due to Sejanus, but was now focused enough as Lucy-Gray went into her song.

“Where did she get the guitar?” Coriolanus asks. He had been too busy to organize her one before the bombing.

“I brought it for her”, you answer, “i went to see if she was okay after the bombing and she said she needed a guitar for her interview. Said she’ll feel naked without it”.

“Thank you. That was very kind”, Coriolanus commended softly.

Coriolanus always knew someday that you and him would make a great team.

Your eyes are trained on Lucy-gray, and Coriolanus followed suit.

She sang about a boy back home and a betrayal. Was that what she was referring to when she said it was complicated back home. Will she fight with everything she had in her or does she secretly hope that she will die just to spite her past lover.

It was additional stress Coriolanus could have lived without.

“The poor girl” you mutter with tears rolling down your face.

Coriolanus squeezes your shoulders in comfort.

‘She’ll be okay” he promises. He would ensure it for his own survival and your personal satisfaction now that you and his tribute were friendly.

“Thank you for being here”, he says looking down at you, before turning his sights to Tigres, “All of you”.

“It’s what friends do”, Sejanus answers. The only person Coriolanus was not speaking to.

“I don’t think you should be standing”, you say, trying to turn Coriolanus back to bed.

He allows you to lead him there where you tuck him back into bed.

You ruin the moment by going straight back into Sejanus’ arms once Coriolanus has settled.

“We’ll leave you to rest” Sejanus states.

He looked too unhappy for a man who held you in his arms.

“Goodnight” he bids, ‘and y/n, thank you for helping Lucy-Gray tonight”.

Her performance wouldn't have been half as moving with the soft, sad melody accompanying it.

“Good luck, Coriolanus. I hope she wins”, you remark.

With the Plinth prize and the love of his life on the line; lucy-gray was going to be the 10th annual winner of the Hunger Games.

Coriolanus just had to figure out how to give her a competitive edge.

He visited the zoo later that night after scouting out the new arena. With four tributes already dead and the new tunnels revealed, the bombing may have been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“Lucy-gray!” he calls softly, “Lucy-gray!”

He can hear the pounding of her footsteps as they come closer. He checks for Guards and woken tributes as she made unnecessary noise. None were aroused so he remained in his spot.

“You’re alive!” She exclaims as she nears the fence.

“Those bombs have changed everything”, he wastes no time to explain his purpose here, “They blew the walls out. So that means you can escape up into the stands. Theres a hole down in the floor, it leads down to some tunnels. You can escape there, I tried it.So the moment you hear that bell ring, you run as fast as you can for that hole and find a palace to hide down below alone”.

‘Alone? No, jessups my friend”, she argues.

He shakes his head ‘no’.

“The moment that bell rings, you can’t trust anyone. Not even jessup. Just lay low down there until its safe to come out”, he demands.

Couldn't she see that she was risking not only her own life, but his, with her undying loyalty.

“Thank you. You and y/n have been so nice to me. I don’t know what I would have done without you both”, Lucy-Grey declares, “I don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back for your kindness”.

“You can win”, Coriolanus orders, “you winning will be life changing for y/n and I. We can finally live the life we want to live. When you win, you’ll win for all of us”.

‘I’ll try, but-” she begins but never finishes as Coriolanus cuts her off.

“Theres no ‘buts’. Theres no other option”, he asserts.

Lucy-Gray begins to cry from the pressure of it all.

“Hey”, he whispers in sympathy.

“I am sorry. I am more hopeful in the day light but when it gets to night”, she whimpers.

“It’s okay” he consoles, reaching for his handkerchief in his pocket. The same one he used to wipe your tears, he now used to wipe the tears of Lucy-gray.

“We are going to win, Lucy-Gray. I promise.”.

“Y/n, real lucky to have a friend like you” Lucy-gray comments.

He knew that. Who else would be willing to risk everything for your happiness. It didn’t even bother him that Lucy-gray referred to him as your friend.

All that matters is that someone else realizes the depth of his love.

“I am very lucky to have her”. He breaths. He was cautious to say too much.

“Look, that song, I need to know that you are serious about winning”, he demands.

“That song? That was just pay back, that’s all”, she defenders, “my old boyfriend Billy taupe was cheating on me with the mayor's daughter. She got crazy jealous, had her pa read my name out on stage, and now everyone will know what they did to me”.

The look upon her face told him that she was serious, so he reached into his breast pocket to pull out his most prized possession.

“Here” he shoves the compact into Lucy’s-Grays hand.

“I can’t” she resists, “It’s too fine”

He clasps his hands over hers to stop her passing it back.

“It’s not a gift. It’s a loan. His large hands wrap entirely around Lucy-Gray’s little fingers.

“Whats in here, don’t touch it. Don’t even breathe it in because small amounts can be deadly”.

He could faintly see Lucy-gray staring back at him in the dark. Her big brown eyes caught the lighting of the Zoo and shined back at him.

“I have seen what war does to people, okay?”, he lectures, “I’ve seen it, and there will come a time when you need this, when you need to act. We all do things we’re not proud of to survive.”

Unexpectedly she brings her head forward to bars in an attempt to kiss him. He lowers his head slightly to dissuade her.

The last thing he needed was word getting back to you through a Tribute pretending to be asleep, or just his poor luck to have a Capitol citizen decide to visit the Zoo at the exact moment of weakness.

“I am sorry”, she gasps, “you said it was complicated with y/n, and y/n said she was with Sejanus so I”.

She doesn’t finish her sentence, too embarrassed.

Coriolanus shakes it off like it was nothing, in an attempt to ease her.

“It’s fine. I just”, Coriolanus wasn’t sure what to say.

You were with Sejanus. There was no real reason why he couldn’t kiss lucy-gray.

It was mis-guided loyalty to a woman who kissed another man. Sometimes right in front of Coriolanus.

Still it didn’t feel right. He wanted you to be the only person he kissed.

“It’s”, Coriolanus begins.

“Complicated”, Lucy-Gray finishes.

Coriolanus moves closer, bringing his head as far as he could to the bars.

“We’re gonna win this Lucy-Gray. We’re gonna win this together. I’m going to get you home, back to the Covery, okay? I promise”.

Coriolanus looks at his victor. His dog in the race. He’s bet it all on her, and he’ll be damned if she was going to let him down.

The morning of the Games, Coriolanus couldn’t even eat his cabbage soup that Tigres had worked so hard to prepare.

He kisses Grandma’am and Tigress goodbye before beginning his long journey to school.

There would be cameras and crowds of people. He had to look composed, but inside he felt the most scared he had ever been.

The feeling eased seeing you across the auditorium.

Your hair was down, and your uniform looked freshly pressed. Sejanus held you by the waist as you spoke to him, and you rested your hands on top of his.

It didn’t matter you were here for Coriolanus just as much as you were for Sejanus. His tribute wasn’t even participating. If anything you had come to support Coriolanus and Lucy-Gray.

“Coryo!” Sejanus called for him as he approached the mentors chairs.

Sejanus lets go of you, which is something Coriolanus would never do, to place a hand on Coriolanus shoulder.

“Hey” Coriolanus greets. His eyes remain on you and how you smile at him.

“How you doing? You alright?” Sejanus asks.

“Better”, Coriolanus dismisses.

He sees a photographer approaching from the corner of his eye, and takes the opportunity to take a step back to invite you between Sejanus and himself.

With a hand on your lower back, he propels you forward. The hand remains as you shuffle next to him.

“Over here please!”, the man with the large camera calls.

Coriolanus smiles at the camera, and he hoped you were too. The flash blinds him, and your smiles fades too fast to be certain it ever was really there.

“How are you this morning?”, Coriolanus asks softly.

“Not about to be forced to fight to the death”, you snap.

You don’t look at him as you speak as you often choose not to do.

“Here we go. Here we go, everyone, come on”, Lucky flickerman diverts people back to their seats, before Coriolanus has the opportunity to comfort you.

Sejanus' large hand goes to the back of your neck, and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Wait for me over there?” he asks, flicking his head to the nearest bleacher to his seat.

It was the furthest from Coriolanus’ seat, but you nod in agreement and move to his direction.

Coriolanus is ushered into his own seat. He has to crane his neck to look at you sitting on the end of the bleacher all by yourself. He hates to see you as a social out-cast.

“Five, four, three, two”, the music signals the start of Lucky Flickerman's introduction.

Coriolanus ignores him mostly. Turning in his chair to watch you engrossed in the large television in front of you.

Your hands grip the seat underneath you. He would give anything to be able to comfort you.

He wanted to tell you that it was all going to be okay. If he sat you where he wanted, he would have been able to hold your hand, but Sejanus had put distance between you and him, so he would have to watch from afar.

Suddenly you gasp, bring your hand up to your mouth with a frightened expression.

Coriolanus turns back to the screens to see what could have caused such a reaction.

They had found Marcus and left him strung up and half-alive in the arena. It was cruel even for Coriolanus.

You shouldn’t have had to see that. Coriolanus wished he could have protected you from it. A district boy taught a lesson, at the expense of your poor, soft heart.

You’ll be crying about it for weeks with only Sejanus for consolation.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure who would be comforting who with the way Sejanus jumped from his chair.

As soon as he is out of it, the chair was flying across the room. Only stopping when it hits the force of the wall.

“You’re monsters! All of you!” He screams to the audience.

He storms past Lucky flickerman who begins the countdown to the Games as if Sejanus had never existed at all.

Coriolanus gets up, rushing over to you as you rise to follow Sejanus.

He manages to catch your arm just as you make it to the exit way.

The scene was out of the line of camera-shot. Past the first three rows of seats, and hidden by the depth of the stands.

Coriolanus felt hidden enough to not let go of your arm, despite you struggling against him.

You turn back to see how had stopped you with an angry expression, but it doesn’t soften when you see it’s him.

“Don’t”, he begs. He wanted you to stay and support him.

It didn’t matter if you knew it or not, but you were his biggest comfort, and that’s what he needed as he watched Lucy-Gray fight for his life.

You don’t listen to him, tugging your arm out of his grip and chasing after Sejanus without looking back.

Coriolanus watches as you go with a heavy breath.

‘And they’re off!” Lucky announces.

Coriolanus turns to watch Lucy-Gray run from her mark.

“Run”, he demands softly. He takes a few steps forward but is halted when Lucy-Gray remains in the same spot, looking around.

“What are you doing? Run” he groans.

He staggers back to his seat, gripping the plastic back tightly in his hand.

His eyes shut when Lucy-Gray narrowly avoids a strike from Reaper.

Why won’t anyone ever listen to him, he wondered.

A district 2 kid gets slaughtered which gains the Cameras full attention. When it pans back to a field shot, Lucy-Gray was crossing the broken fragments with Coral hot on her heels.

Coriolanus felt the need to take a seat as he watched. A few of his eliminated classmates wished him well as they left, but Coriolanus remained slumped against his hand.

It wasn’t until she had gathered Jessup and began racing for the hole in the ground that Coriolanus lifted his head again.

“Go, go, go”, he muttered. The pack was closing in. Hell bent on taking out Lucy-gray.

They almost manage to, but Lucy-Gray slips through the broken door, and a squabble prohibits the hunters coming in.

He sighs. At least she was safe for now. He would worry about Jessup when it came time for it. Whats the point of worrying now? It was still anybody's game. He could very well die within the next hour from a surprise attack.

Coriolanus squirms in his seat watching as another child is hacked apart by dull weapons.

He pushes it from his mind as soon as the camera shifts. Lucy-Gray was safe, thats all that mattered. She still has a shot at winning.

Nothing more happened. All the tributes found shelter in one corner or another. Only Reaper paced the opened space, willing someone to come attack him.

Coriolanus wonders if you will be back. He hoped you would come check on him.

Coriolanus rises his head to the screen once more as Lamina makes her way up the broken fragments to where Marcus hung. Reaper gave her space, seemingly knowing what she was doing.

A small conversation between the two preceded Lamina swinging her axe down.

Coriolanus shudders hearing the impact. He hoped you didn’t see that.

He could only imagine the sobbing it would cause.

Lamina cuts marcus down and he falls like a bag of bricks.

She gazes down at him. Coriolanus couldn’t tell if it was in remorse, or in quiet pride of giving him a merciful death.

The sound of the drone coming near broke her concentration. The water attached swung in the air as it flew too fast towards her. She rose, reaching out to catch it.

Coriolanus almost laughed when it drove straight past her and smashed into the rocks.

The night dragged on, but Coriolanus remained. Eyes glued to the screen in hope of a glance of Lucy-Gray.

The camera stayed mainly above ground where the action was, but sometimes he got a dash at what Lucy-Gray was doing.

She was still alive. Or at least was, ten minutes ago.

The other mentors, and most of the audience had left as the night bled.

Nothing had really happened for hours. A squabble or a chase here and there but most of the fight had left the tributes.

“If only you could trap y/n as easily as you have trapped that poor girl”, Dean Highbottoms voice surprised Coriolanus.

“I’ve trapped her?”Coriolanus fought, “I didn’t create the Games”.

He saw Dean Highbottom flinch ever so slightly. If he hadn't been looking so intensely, he would have missed it.

“No”, Highbottom concedes, “but you’ve fueled its continuance. You’ve turned dying children into spectacles , Mr Snow. Congratulations”.

Coriolanus ignores him, turning back to the screens.

“Are you honestly hoping that winning the plinth prize will win you the girl?”, Dean Highbottom mocks.

“I am hoping my hard work will pay off”, Coriolanus bites.

“I saw you before with miss y/n, trying to stop her from leaving”.

“I was trying to stop her from making a fool out of herself”.

“What do you want from that poor girl?”.

Coriolanus knew there was no point in lying. Dean Highbottom had already figured out Coriolanus’ intentions.

“Only whats best”, he answers.

“Hm and you think winning the Plinth prize will help you decide what is best for her?”, Hightbom begins to laugh, his voice taking on a sing-songy tone, “Wake up mr Snow. Who do you think decides? Even if your songbird wins, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you don’t see a single dime of that prize money’.

Coriolanus turns back to Highbottom with his anger logged in his throat.

The older man smiles back. Coriolanus knew the man was trying to get him to slip up. But his aggravation won’t lose him the prize. If Highbottom wanted it, he would have to rip it from Coriolanus’s hands.

Instead he turns back to the screen. Lucy-gray was still underground, feeding Jessup water.

He could hear Dean Highbottom walking away which left him with a small victory.

Coriolanus takes a deep breath, and sits straightener in his chair.

It wasn’t over. Dean Highbottom wasn’t the only authority. When Coriolanus won, surely Dr Gaul would fight for him. The other teachers too. The star pupil robbed of the victory? Coriolanus would see to an up roar.

At some point Coriolanus began to doze off. The late night and the slow turn of events left him the last one in the auditorium. The quietness of it all had his eyes shutting.

“Coriolanus?”. He heard your voice call.

He ignores it ,sure it was a dream. But you tap his arm, and his eyes shoot open to see you standing in front of him.

You were still in your school uniform, your hair slightly more messy than a couple of hours prior and you looked on the verge of tears.

It panicked him greatly to see you in such a state.

He reaches out, quickly taking your wrist in his hold.

“Huh, what happened? Are you okay?”, he asks.

“Has Sejanus been here?”, you quake.

Coriolanus shakes his head ‘no’.

He could have rolled his eyes. Of course, Sejanus was behind your tears once more. Coriolanus had never made you cry.

“Why would he be here?��, Coriolanus asks. It seemed an unlikely place to visit while his old friend lay dead on several different screens.

Tears begin to roll down your cheeks causing Coriolanus to spring up, attempting to bring you in his arms. You push him away, keeping an arms length distance between you both.

“I thought maybe he would come see you. We were sleeping and I woke up, and he was gone”, you explain with a shaky breath, “I don’t know where he could have went, Coriolanus. He’s not in a good place. I am worried-”

“Not in a good place, indeed” Dr Gauls voice booms through the open space.

This time when Coriolanus touched you, he was given permission. He pulls you next to him to face Dr Gaul together.

Dr Gaul was disinterested in the couple, taking the master remote and turning all the channels to the same camera.

“Sejanus!”, you gasp upon seeing your boyfriend knelt down next to his old friend in the arena.

Your hand takes a hold of Coriolanus' arm in a tight grip. Your painted nails dig into his uniform jacket.

“Breadcrumbs” Dr Gaul annotates while the room watches Sejanus spread the food over his friend, “I believe substance for a fallen comrade in his final journey. A district 2 superstition”.

“How did he get in there?” you question, never once tearing your eyes from the screen.

“I’ll work on finding the peacekeeper he bribed to let him in, and remove his tongue”, Dr Gual snarls, “in the meantime I need you to get him out right now”.

Dr Gaul looked directly at you which spiked Coriolanus heart rate,

“You should send Peacekeepers in”, he demanded. There was no way you were joining Sejanus in the arena.

“Only to have him bolt and hide like a rabbit?”, Dr Gaul retorts. “Fleix Ravenstill is fighting for his life in a hospital bed, Mr Snow. I will not have these rebels make a further mockery of my games. Anyone sees us lose control of this arena, it might as well be sounding a horn to the districts to revolt!”.

Dr Gaul takes a breath, trying to regain the composure lost. She turns her sight back on you, who had dropped Coriolanus' arm during her speech.

You stood brave, staring straight back at her with discontempt.

“You choose to be lovers with the radical. Don’t you want him out?”, Dr Gaul gages you.

Coriolanus steps forward trying to take Dr Gauls attention away from you.

‘‘Sending her into the arena will get her killed. It’ll look a lot worse if the tributes kill two Capitol students”, Coriolanus justifies.

“A volunteer then?”,Dr Gual pushes.

“I’ll go”, You say too quickly, “I can get him out”.

“I’ll go”, Coriolanus declares.

The mere thought of you in the arena left a sick feeling in his stomach. He wouldn’t watch helplessly on the other side of the screen while you risked your life for Sejanus.

He couldn’t believe Sejanus had put you in this position. Coriolanus’s every move was calculated with you in mind.

It was pure luck that you had chosen to seek Coriolanus out. If you hadn’t he would have woken the next morning to see you dead in the arena next to Sejanus.

He would go into the arena to save Sejanus if it meant saving you.

“No!” you protested, once again grabbing hold of Coriolanus arm to pull him back.

He turns to you with a look of irritation on his face.

“What chance do you think you stand if one of the tributes decide to attack? I am stronger, faster”, Coriolanus explained. He hated being irritated at you, but you wouldn’t see sense, “I’ll get him out, y/n. I promise”.

“Unless you are both secretly hoping he’ll die in that arena, we need to move fast”, Dr Gaul utters.

Her expression had changed from one of anger to quiet amusement, but she had not forgotten the task at hand.

She turns, expecting the children to follow her as she talks. Coriolanus follows suit, leading you as you wrap yourself around his arm.

He would have shaken you off. You had no place being even near the arena, let alone outside of its gates, but he loved the way you clung to him.

Your tight hold told him you would fight if he tried to leave you. Really it was the way you should be holding him. Not just now, in a state of emergency.

“I’ll freeze the feed for one hour”, Dr Gaul says as she moves out of the school, “I expect thats all the time we have until someone notices”.

A Peacekeeper van is waiting down the steps of the school. Dr Gaul jumps in, leaving the back of the van open for the children.

Coriolanus helps you up into the back of the van before lifting himself up behind you. The doors are closed shut as he enters, and the van takes off before he is fully sat next to you.

You are unusually quiet. Coriolanus could tell you were scared from the way you sat. Arms crossed across your chest, looking straight ahead of you with a glazed look.

Coriolanus places a hand on your knee in comfort but you don’t seem to register it.

He tries not to mind Dr Gauls' searing stare from the other bench. He focuses on you and your state of worry.

You begin to chew your lip absentmindedly. He wanted to pull it from between your teeth to get you to stop, but the van lurched forward as it stopped.

The drive wasn’t long, but the peacekeeper sped to it anyway.

As the doors are pulled open, Coriolanus takes a deep breath. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't be beaten to death by a tribute trying to save a man he loathed.

Grandma’am and Tigres wouldn’t survive without him, but if he died, he would at least make sure Sejanus died along with him.

If he couldn't have you, Sejanus definitely couldn’t.

“Lets go, Mr Snow”, Dr Gual urges.

She jumps out first. Coriolanus could hear her directing the Peacekeepers on what was about to happen.

You rise with Coriolanus. But He doesn’t allow you to get to the door as he does.

He jumps down and spins, placing his hand on the doors and bringing them closer together.

"Stay in the van”, he orders.

Surely, even on the off chance that a tribute managed to get through the gates, you would be safe in a locked van.

You nod your head in understanding, trying to ease his worry.

It doesn’t work but he appreciates it anyway.

He smiles up at you, taking the time to have a good look at you in case it was his last time.

With the doors shut on you, he could focus more clearly. He wasn’t going to die in that arena. He wasn’t going to die by a district hand.

He was going to get out alive. You were going to wake up to yourself and realise that you had been hopelessly in love with Coriolanus this whole time.

The gates are unlocked and he feels his confidence waver. Nevertheless, he persits with his mission and with a careful step he enters the arena.

It’s dark and quiet. The moonlight does little to help. A tribute could jump out at any time and Coriolanus would never see them coming.

He was cautious to make any sounds, stepping softly on the fragmented rocks.

The gate makes it stupid welcome message as he passes through it under the belief the game makers would have been smart enough to disable it.

His breath gets caught in his throat while waiting to see who it attracts. He doesn’t move.

He feels the blood rush to his ears, and his body ready itself to fight. No one comes.

Coriolanus’s eyes scan the room for whatever movement he could pick up on. It seemed there was none.

With a shaky breath he attempts to continue on, when his heightened ears pick up on a scuffle behind him.

He spins quickly, ready to dodge an attack. He wished it had been a tribute, and not you trying to climb over the turn stalls.

On its own accord, his face scrunches in anger. His footsteps are louder than he liked as he stormed over to you.

He takes your hips into what he was sure was a painful hold, and looks past you to see they had already locked the gate. You were now trapped in here with angry Tributes with nothing to lose.

Previously, he had never thought it possible to be angry with you. Now he wanted to scream in your face until you cried.

He helps you down, softly to the ground, and catches your hand harshly in his.

“You’re an idiot”, he whispers, “Stay close”.

He squeezes your fingers into the palm of his hand, but you make no complaint as you follow him into the arena.

Coriolanus felt his anxiety and senses heightened. He could faintly see Sejanus in the moonlight still knelt on the ground next to Marcus.

He felt you pull against his hold as you near Sejanus, but he refuses to let you go an inch.

If there was a tribute lurking he wanted to know where you were.

“Sejanus”, you whisper when you are within earshot.

He spins straight away upon hearing you. The panic he should have had all along, comes crashing all at once. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost as he rose from the floor.

‘What are you doing here?”, he questions in a strained, soft voice.

Sejanus takes your arms in his hands. Coriolanus wanted to yank you out of his hold, but a squabble would cause unnecessary attention.

“Get her out of here, Coryo”, Sejanus demands.

“I would like to. Believe me”, Coriolanus scolds. His eyes darted around the room, ensuring that all was still unnoticed.

“I am not leaving without you”, with your free hand you reach out to take a fist full of Sejanus shirt.

“I have to do this” Sejanus justifies, “I have to go where the cameras are”.

“You think anyone is watching this?” Coriolanus spat, taking a step closer to the couple, “Gaul cut the feed. Tributes kill you in here, she’s just going to say you died from the flu”.

“They won’t kill me”, Sejanus vows.

“Yes they will!” you reproach.

Maybe there was hope for you, Coriolanus thinks, Maybe Sejanus hadn’t brainwashed you fully.

The moonlight as it bounces off Lamina’s axe catches Coriolanus’s eye, and the safety net had now disappeared. She wouldn’t attack, but she could draw attention at any time.

“You need to decide right now”, Coriolanus demands, he breaks Sejanus' hold on you in case you need to run, and focuses Sejanus attention on himself, “do you want to fight these tributes or fight for them? Because if you want to make real change, you need to stay alive”.

“How can I make any change from out there?”, Sejanus discredits his power.

He was not worthy of his power if he had no brains on how to use it.

“You’re rich, smart. You care. You stood up to Gaul in that class, didn’t you? Spend your fathers money, do some real good”, a clash of the metal resounds in the arena. More would wake from the noise, and the group wouldn’t stand a chance.

“We’re dead. Y/n’s dead if we don’t leave right now”, Coriolanus reprimand, “Come with us, or just be another body in Gaul’s war”.

He knew he would have to fight to get you to leave Sejanus. But he was only allowing a few more seconds before he raced you to the exit.

Worried that you would get yourself killed in the struggle to save Sejanus, Coriolanus turns to begging as a last resort.

Placing a hand on Sejanus' shoulder, he brings the delusional boy closer.

“Please, Sejanus. We’re friends. Trust me”, Coriolanus pleaded.

You tug on Sejanus' shirt to move, “Come” you implore.

His large, dirty palm goes over your hand, “Alright”, he whispers.

The attack came at the perfect time. Coriolanus heard the shuffling of the boys shoes giving him time to pull you back towards the exit, before the war cry resounded through the arena.

“Go, Run!” he demands, pushing you ahead of him.

You sprint as fast as you can across the broken floor. Coriolanus caught up easily, pushing you forward urging you to move faster.

Sejanus lagged behind, choosing to look at the fast approaching tribute.

“Go! Go!” Coriolanus yells at you when you turn around to see where Sejanus was.

You don’t look back again, until you reach the turn stalls.

Coriolanus jumps over with ease, turning back to help you over. You stumble as your foot gets stuck on the rusty metal turn, and Coriolanus drags you over it as fast as he could.

His hand takes a hold of yours once more as Sejanus approaches the stand with the tribute hot on his heels.

He runs forward with you, eager to get you to safety beyond the gates.

Sejanus screams as he stumbles over the hard metal and you halt your quick pace to safety.

You call for him, trying to tug your hand out of Coriolanus’s. He resists, trying to get you to leave Sejanus.

Coriolanus promises to go back for him once you were beyond the gates but you wouldn’t have it.

He drops your hand, rathering his own life to be in danger for Sejanus than yours.

Coriolanus reaches Sejanus quicker than you do, and yanks him off the ground.

‘Come on, get up!”Sejanus tries to regain his feet but his knee refuses to take any weight, “y/n, get to the gate!”, Coriolanus commands.

You don’t turn, running towards Sejanus instead of away. You take his other arm over your shoulder, trying to assist Coriolanus.

The screaming of the tribute came closer, and before Coriolanus could move, the sharp edge of a blade hacked into his shoulder. It was a far swing from the tribute but with enough force to split skin.

He drops Sejanus to dodge the next attack. You fall into the wall, unable to support Sejanus by yourself.

The tribute now closer, stalks over to you with his sword held high. Sejanus tries a feeble attempt to shield you, but Coriolanus takes hold of a metal ruin that was stuck between cement, determined that not one hair on your head would be touched.

He scrambles off the ground and swings the cement at the tribute with a loud scream.

The young boy stumbles off balance, but readies himself again. He swung back with the blade which Coriolanus narrowly missed before bringing the cement down across the boy's head.

It lands him on the ground, but Coriolanus doesn’t stop there, bringing it down once more on the boy who threatened his girl

“Coriolanus!” you call to him. More tributes were coming out of the shadows.

He drops his weapon, going back over to you to help lift the weight of Sejanus.

Sejanus pushes through the pain to quicken the pace of the shuffle, but comotion had inlived the most dangerous pack. Corals groups hooped and hollered as they approached.

“Y/n, open the gate!”, Coriolanus demands, wanting you to be first out.

Sejanus drops his arm from your shoulder, and you take the permission to take off ahead and bang on the gate until it opens.

Coriolanus could hear the tributes as they run. They weren’t far off. He wasn’t sure they would even make it to the gate in time, but you would and that’s what matters.

You push yourself out with the gate as it opens, turning back to look at the boys with wide, fearful eyes.

Coriolanus pushes himself to be faster, taking nearly all of Sejanus' weight onto him.

They make it just in time, and fall to a heap on the floor next to Peacekeepers boots.

Corioanus pushes Sejanus off him. His hand reaches for his shoulder that now weeped blood.

He groans as he feels the ache of the gash, next to his still searing burn mark.

He is distracted momentarily when Coral reaches the gate, and throws her spear into it.

“Keep your eyes on the screen, gorgeous”, she taunts Coriolaus, throwing her head in the direction of you, “ I may have missed her tonight, but your songbirds next on my list”.

The Peacekeepers demand that her group get back and the tributes disappear back into the dark tunnel.

He had followed Corals gaze to you on the floor. Your tears run down your cheeks now that the adrenaline is gone.

Coriolanus moves to get you off the floor and into his arms, but you move as he does, and crawl across the floor to where Sejanus lay.

You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into him.

“I am okay”, he promises. His large hand rubs soothing circles on your back.

You pull back in anger and begin hitting his chest as you speak.

“How could you?”, you reprimand, “how could you do that?”.

“I am sorry, I had to do something”. Sejanus winces as he tries to sit up. His knee no doubt, completely ruined.

“You could have been killed”, you cry with a push against his attempted hold.

Was this the end of the bleeding heart couple? Coriolanus felt a spark of joy, watching as you fought.

“Coriolanus could have died!”, as if you had forgotten about him you now turn to him, ‘Oh, Coriolanus”, you cry, “Are you okay?”.

Coriolanus hand went back to his shoulder, feeling the wet patch of blood soak through his school jacket. He had no other uniform, even Tigres wouldn't be able to fix it.

“Coryo, I am so sorry”, Sejanus apologies. It meant nothing to Coriolanus who ignored him.

A car screeches to a stop and two car doors slam.

The car is sleek and expensive with its own full time driver waiting with the lights on.

Next to it stood Ma and Mr Plinth, who were well dressed as always.

Ma was crying, but Mr Plinth stood stoic and angry.

He gave Coriolanus a thankful nod but remained far away expecting his son to come to him.

Ma runs over to her baby, wrapping herself around her sons head.

Coriolanus takes the opportunity to move closer to you. You stand upon seeing him approach.

“Are you alright?’, he questioned.

You reach up, taking his neck and bringing him down into a hug. He gratefully goes, never expecting a hug before the relationship began.

“Thank you, Coriolanus. I would have died in there”, you muttered.

The hug is too short, before he is ready you are pulling away to look at his shoulder.

“Coriolanus needs help!’, you announce, “Somebody needs to take him to the hospital!”.

“Come with me”, he begs you.

“Don’t worry, Miss y/n. I’ll take care of our hero here”, Dr Gaul inserts herself where she is not wanted once more. She looked amused at Coriolanus’s physical and emotional pain.

“Y/n, baby”, Sejanus calls to you. The driver had left the car to assist Sejanus while his father looks on.

Coriolanus reluctantly lets go as you move to the sound of your name.

“You’ll look after him?”, you question Dr Gaul. Coriolanus wanted to beg you not to believe her.

“He’ll be good as new. You have my word”, Dr Gaul promises.

He shutters as you move further back.

Mr Plinth does not cross for his son, but he crosses to come collect you.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder to lead you to the car.

You look back at Coriolanus as you are led. Taking one final glance before entering the car with Sejanus.

Coriolanus watches as the car takes off. He wondered if you had your arms wrapped around Sejanus in the back.

He decides it is best not to submit his body to further stress and pushes it out of his mind. The walk home would help him clear his head, and focus only on the positives of the night. You relied on him tonight. Even acknowledged that he had saved your life. That was a step in the right direction.

“And where do you think you are going, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul calls out after him.

“Home”, he announces over his good shoulder.

‘And make a liar out of me?” she walks in the opposite direction towards the Peacekeeper van, “Come”.

The ride back is silent. The same hurry to get there was not offered on the way back. Coriolanus shoulder ached, the blood would not stop pouring, sticking his shirt to his back and irritating his wound.

Dr gaul doesn’t speak again until they are back in her lab.

He couldn’t believe she had taken him back to her experimental freak show instead of a hospital. But he was in pain and in need of medical care so he didn’t verbalize his complaints.

“How did it feel?” she asks as she readies her station for him, “when you killed the boy to save y/n?”.

He should have known she was watching.

‘I didn’t have a choice”, he spat as he unbuttoned his shirt and took a seat in front of her.

She laughs at him as she begins her first stitch.

“All your fine manners, education, background, stripped away in a blink of an eye. Fueled with the terror of becoming prey, how fast we become predators".

Coriolanus lets out a shaky breath as the adrenaline dies down and the needle stitches him together.

“Who would have thought that one day Crassus Snow’s boy would be fighting for his life in the area over a girl?”, he feels her stop stitching while she waits for the answer to her next question, “That's why you did it no? It wasn’t until news of her involvement that you volunteered. Or did you still wish to proceed with the guise of friendship?”

“Sejanus is not my friend”, Coriolanus declares.

Her needle work began again, pleased with his answer.

“You want to protect y/n, Mr Snow? Then it’s essential that you accept what human beings are, and what it takes to control them”.

He feels her knot the thread into his skin

“So I’ll ask you again, when you beat that boy to death with a club, how did it feel?”.

“It felt”, Coriolanus breathed, wondering if he should give the honest answer. Deciding he had nothing to lose from it, he answers.

“It felt powerful”.

“Answer this next one honestly and you won’t have to walk home”, Dr Gaul teases, “Were you hoping that Sejanus died tonight?”

“Yes”, Coriolanus croaks. His own tears welling in his eyes. He refuses to let any more than two fall, which are wiped away harshly.

“How did it feel to have her life in your hands tonight?”, Dr Gaul pushes.

Coriolanus nods, unable to form words.

A hand is placed on his good shoulder. She squeezes to let him know the sincerity of her words.

“People will do anything to survive, Mr Snow. It doesn’t matter how miserable of an existence it is”.

Coriolanus thinks to his bare apartment, and cinder block bed. It was true, and he was living proof.

Survival meant hope.

He closes his eyes, feeling more tears forming and remembers how malleable you were tonight. You trusted him wholly with your survival, and with that came power over you.

Lucy-Gray was the same. Tonight you showed him the same loyalty, and respect that you had denied him previously.

Lucy-Gray had tried to kiss him, and you melded your body to him when you could. He was sure if you were alone, you would have kissed him for saving your life.

If only he could trap you as easily as Lucy-gray. Keep you in a state of panic that rendered you totally dependent on him.

He lets out a low, breathy laugh, remembering Dean Highbottoms words.

Maybe the old man could see more than Coriolanus would like.

Despite the pain in his shoulder and his little sleep, Coriolanus arrived back at the auditorium bright and early.

Lucy-Gray was still alive. He could see her sleeping against a pole next to Jessup.

The dead tribute was noticed, but soon forgotten. Only Lysistrata pushed to know more, but she too dropped the subject as the tributes began to wake and fight.

There were ten tributes left. Not an impossible task for Lucy-Gray to outlive them all.

He kept careful watch of the screens. While the rest of the mentors took lunch, and socialized, Coriolanus sat with his head in his hand, hoping for a split second of screen time that told him Lucy-Gray was okay.

“Coriolanus!”. Your voice shocked him as it appeared.

He stood to greet you. It was a welcomed but unexpected visit. The games were announced a public holiday, you had no obligation to be at school.

He would have thought after last night that you would be glued to Sejanus’s side. Was this the beginning of the end?

“Y/n, what are you doing here?”, he questioned.

In the daylight he could see a bruise on your temple from when toppled into the wall, under Sejanus. He reaches out to run his finger across the black spot, and you hit his hand away.

“What are you doing here?”, you push back with a hard tone “I went to your house to check on you, but Tigres said you were here?”.

Coriolanus felt his body twitch at your words. You went to his run down apartment? How much did you see? Surely, Tigres shielded his shame. Your eyes didn’t carry pity, maybe you didn’t know.

“Don’t you ever go to my apartment without my permission again”, he scolded.

That was close. Too close. He was days from getting the plinth prize. Days from burying his decade long shame.

You seemed drawn back at his harsh tone. He had never spoken to you unkindly before.

In an effort to ease the mood once more, before you left, he threw his hands up as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“My Grandmother has severe social anxiety. We can’t have unexpected visitors”, he lies with a soft and airy tone.

“Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t know”, you offer.

Coriolanus tuts, bringing his hand up once more to brush the hair off your bruise.

“You shouldn’t have been in there”, he complains.

The bruise looked painful. He was sure it would cause you a headache. You should be resting with ice upon it, not here talking to him.

“No one should be in there”, you return.

His hand is pushed away again, but he attributes it being too soft to touch, rather than disdain for him touching you.

"Thank you for checking on me”, he says.

“You shouldn’t be here, Coriolanus. Not after last night”.

“Lucy-Gray needs me”, he observes.

Your eyes flick to the screen behind him, before back to Coriolanus’s eyes and nod in agreement.

“Sejanus is in the hospital. They have him on morphline. His knee will never work fully, but he is alive and that's because of you”, you proclaim, “Lucy-Gray is fortunate to have you looking out for her. We all are”.

His heart flutters. ‘We all are’, yes! Yes! You were lucky to have him looking out for you. Have you finally come to appreciate all he does for you?

He smiles down at you. If his shoulder didn’t ache, he would have reached out for you.

“If there’s anything I can do”, you offer.

“There is!” He responds too quickly.

He clears his throat, trying to conceal his eagerness.

“There is”, repeats more even toned, “You could stay. I could use the support”.

You looked unsure of the request, but he had saved your life just hours prior, so you felt an obligation to do as he asked.

“Sure, Coriolanus”, you finally say, although you still looked unsure, “I can stay for a little bit”.

He could barely breathe. The “great” he manages to get out is hardly above a whisper.

He leads you to the front bench just in front of the first row of mentor chairs.

You sit obediently and he takes his new seat in front of you.

The tributes have become more lively. Coral was on the hunt for Lucy-Gray trying to convince one of her group members to go down and flush her out.

None would so they go back to making traps to catch Reaper.

Coriolanus reaches his hand back to you, trying to see how far his luck would take him.

You do take his hand into your own, but only for the time it took to give him three encouraging pats to the back of his hand.

It was close enough. Leaving Coriolanus with a feeling of satisfaction.

The feeling stayed for less than a second. His good mood disappeared when the camera flew back to Lucy-Gray underground.

Jessup was getting agitated. Yelling at Lucy-Gray and twitching uncontrollably.

“What’s he doing?”Coriolanus jumps out of his chair and moves closer to the screens.

“They’re friends. He wouldn’t hurt her”, you comment, coming up beside him.

“Somethings wrong”, Lysistrata agrees, “He wouldn’t turn on her like this”.

Lucy-Gray makes a mad dash away which only further angers Jessup, determined that he had done something.

Coriolanus watches in panic. Lucy-gray couldn't defend herself. She would never hurt Jessup, even in his mad state.

“Go to the stands, go to the stands!”, he directs.

Lucy-gray does go to the stands, climbing up as fast as she could but Jessup was determined to catch her.

Coriolanus couldn’t watch. He turns and paces, trying to figure out a way to save Lucy-Gray.

It couldn’t be over. You had only just come around, he needed more time.

The camera zooms in on Jessup allowing full view of the white form dripping down his lips.

‘Wait, look”, he tells you.

Your hand balls at your mouth. He hated to see you so frightened yet again.

As soon as this was all over, he would ensure nothing would ever worry you again.

“I think it rabies," he announces.

He could have danced. There was a way out of this mess. The game wasn’t over yet.

“That bite from the train”, Lysistrata deducts.

“Send him water”. He demands of Lysistrata.

“What? No”, she denines.

He leans across her desk so she is forced to look at him. He was half tempted to just take control of her computer himself.

“You remember the posters from the war. Rabies. It makes you scared of water. Send him a drone”, he demanded.

“That’ll scare him”.

He knew Livy had come to care for Jessup

“Yes” Coriolanus agrees in a hard tone, “away from her”.

Lysistrata still looked in denial. There was no other option, both their tributes didn’t have to die.

“Jessup is done”, he says with haste, “Livy, you’re the only one that can get it right to him”.

Coming to grips with reality, Livy does as she is told, sending a water drone in the direction of Jessup.

“Thank you”, Coriolanus feels better watching the drone fly in.

“Nothing to be proud of”, Livy mutters.

As planned, the drone smashes into him just as he reaches Lucy-gray.

He hears you gasp as Jessup falls to his death and hits the bottom with a heavy thud.

He turns to see you still with your hand pressed tightly against your mouth, and eyes squeezed shut.

The sight makes him feel horrible that he had asked you to stay.

You were on the side of his sore shoulder so he had to reach across with his good hand to touch you.

“Coryo”, Livy called as Carol’s group came out of hiding.

The hand on you balls watching as Corals group surrounds Lucy-gray.

“Oh no”, he complains.

He needed to make a distraction, so she could run and hide. He couldn’t just stand and watch. But the only thing he could do was send food and water in on badly operated drones.

The same badly operated drones that just took Jessup out.

He reaches for his communipad, and selects as many bottles of water as it would let him.

He didn’t need to kill the group. Only give Lucy-Gray a chance to get away

The drones go flying in. He hoped Lucy-Gray wouldn’t give the surprise away, but she managed to keep her cool until it was time to duck.

“Hey! You can’t attack the tributes” a fellow mentor complained.

“I am just sending water”, Coriolanus jeered.

He could hear your chuckle of approval behind him. You reach out to his good shoulder and murmur in his ear.

“Good work”, you encouraged.

He wished he could have stayed in the moment but it wasn’t over yet. Lucy-gray disappears into the dust, taking with her a bottle of water.

She hides in the shelter of the ruin and he can faintly see her take something from her dress pocket.

No there, he wanted to say. What if someone saw her poison the water and he was disquailified.

He looks around the room to check no one else is noticing. All eyes seemed to be on the group turning against Lamina.

Lucy-Gray ducks back out with the water, placing it back on the ground before emptying the others collected. It wasn’t a bad idea.

Lamina's death stopped the clock and the attention was once more turned back to Lucy-gray.

“Go” you mutter, flicking your hands out as if she could see.

Lucy-Gray takes off with Coral and her group chasing her back up the stands. She finds an air duct and dives to close it in time.

Coral catches it before it fully closes and it begins a tug of war against the two.

“No, No”, you complain.

He wanted to shield your eyes from the screen. With every inch Coral got, Lucy-Gray found the strength to tug it back.

When it finally closes, sealing Lucy-gray in safety, Coriolanus lets out a sigh of relief.

“She’s Okay” he says to you.

Coral takes out another tribute over a squabble over the water, and Dill drinks the poisoned water.

So that was three dead tributes in less than 20 minutes. With this pace Coriolanus would be announced winner before the night ended.

He sat you back down on your seat, and retook his in front of you. Your fingers cling to the bench underneath you, and your posture is tight and unnatural.

He expects you to leave him, but you remain watching as Reaper collects the fallen tributes into a neat line and draps the Panam flag over him.

“Are you going to punish me now?” reaper yells to the cameras.

He begins to scream again but his words are cut off by a broadcast from Dr Gaul.

“Capitol Citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our games to announce a tragic loss. Fleix Ravienstill, son of our beloved president, has this morning succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.Out there, in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boys death. I will not allow my games to give our enemies such a victory. I swear to you here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these games”.

The broadcast ends, and the tributes go back on screen.

“What?” you spit, “What does she mean no victor? That's not fair. She can't do that”.

You rise from your outrage, ranting to Coriolanus. Your anxiety has been taken over by your anger. Coriolanus agreed it was not fair. All his hard work gone down the drain because of the death of Felix, who was never going to amount to anything anyway.

A rainbow of destruction. The snakes. There was no way he could protect lucy-Gray from them.

He would need something with her scent. Could he get the string of her guitar that she played in the interviews? He didn’t even know where it was. By the time he found it, the Games were sure to be over.

Maybe, he could go to the zoo. Toss as many things as he could into the snake pit and hope one of them was hers? It might mean the survival of everyone but her too.

The zoo, he remembers. He digs into his breast pocket to pull out the handkerchief he used to wipe her tears away. If the sweat of his palm can keep him safe against the snakes, then surely her fresh tears dried on the handkerchief could.

He had to get it to the lab before it was too late.

He grabs your forearms and turns you away from the screen to him so he had your full attention.

“Stay here, okay. I’ll be right back”. He commands.

“Where are you going?”, you ask astounded that he could be leaving after such news.

“Just stay here. Don’t move”, he reiterated.

You nod sensing his urgency and he dashes out of the auditorium into the empty hallway.

He knew he couldn’t walk into Dr Guals lab without a reason, and begging for Lucy-Grays life wasn’t a good one.

As he jogs down the steps, he claws at the stitches in his back, reopening the wound.

He groans from the pain but ensures all eight stitches have torn open.

His body is weak as he sprints to Dr gauls lab. It barely gets him through the front door, where he demands to see Dr gaul.

As if she was expecting him, the Peacekeeper lets him directly through.

“Come to beg for her life?” Dr gaul asks uninterested.

“No” Coriolanus puffs, “No, my stitches. They came loose. I didn’t want the doctors asking questions”.

She looks at him suspiciously but relents, going to her work table.

“Come, pull down your shirt”, she directs.

He walks past a row of black birds locked in cages. Her newest toys.

“The news must have shocked you Mr Snow. With no tributes, no victor, with no victor, no girl”.

Coriolanus faces the birds as Dr Gaul stitches the needle into his shoulder. He eyes the large snake tank in the corner and the people who ready it for transport.

“Y/n’s actually at the auditorium. She came to support me. She’s the one who noticed the stitches”, Coriolanus lies.

“Support you and not her boyfriend in hospital? Things are looking promising”, she says.

"Looking promising, looking promising” her voice echoes across the room. Seemingly from the mouth of the birds.

She sighs and stops stitching to click a receiver.

“Jabberjays”, she explained, “We sent them out during the war to pick up rebel conversations. A failed experiment. They only pick up useless phrases unless manually operated. I am collecting them to see what better purpose they serve”.

Coriolanus remains quiet trying to figure out how he could reach the cage before it was too late.

The needle knots in his back, a feeling Coriolanus had come to know to mean that the stitching was done.

“I’ll see you and your girl back in the auditorium for the finale, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul dismisses, “you should be proud of yourself. Your songbird put on a wonderful show, and you didn’t need money to steal the girl after all”.

Coriolanus quickly buttons up his shirt, watching as the cage was wheeled out.

“Thank you, Dr Gaul”, he says.

He races to catch up to the assistants wheeling the cage, pretending to be following them out.

They don’t see him as a threat so pay him no mind. He falls back as they take a hallway just off the exit, and watches as they leave the cage out for an airlift.

He stays hidden behind a pole until it was time. Leaving his jacket to keep the door wedged open. With their back turned, he dashes out to cage. The snakes are upset when he slams into the large cage, beginning to move and fight with each other.

He finds an air hole large enough and stuffs the handkerchief in. it moves along the bodies of the snakes until Coriolanus could no longer see the white in between the rainbow.

When the harness is lowered, Coriolanus makes a run back to the door, taking his jacket and making his own exit from the Citadel.

He pays for the taxi this time. Sure that his body couldn’t take anymore strain.

It cost him his fathers watch, but he arrived back in the auditorium before the entrance of the snakes.

“What happened?” he quizzes you, taking a hold of your arm, “Lucy-gray is she okay?”.

You point to the screen where Coral and Treech poke and prod a vent.

“She’s in there”, you address with horror in your voice.

Treech points up and Coral takes his palace directly under the vent.

Blocking the camera, Treech begins to sway of balance and nose begins leek small amounts of blood.

“Wait, what's wrong with Treech?” his mentor asks.

Corilanious was worried about his own tribute, who was three lucky strikes away from being impaled.

Coral hits the metal too many times and the vent collapses on top of her.

Coriolanus' hand latches out to yours, which you accept with the same nervous tension in your fingers.

“Run, run” Coriolanus begs.

She runs back into the arena. Not the safest place with reaper still sitting by the dead tributes.

Coral chases after her, too slow to catch up.

The whole arena stops when the chopper lowers in the cage.

“Please work”, Coriolanus whispers.

“What is that?” you ask.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if it was candy?” Lucy Flickerman answers you.

Coriolanus feels your hand tense in his, then open in surprise when the glass cage cracks and the snakes fly out.

“Not candy!” Lucky Flickerman announces as three tributes are overtaken in rainbow.

The Snakes chase the last two tribute who head to the stands for higher ground.

“Lucy-Gray, please” Coral begs. The snakes lash at her heels as she tries to drag herself up the stands, “Please it couldn’t have all be for nothing”.

It was. More snakes latch on and Coral dies with two loud screams.

“Now all colors lead to Gray” Lucy Flickerman narrates.

The snakes slither up and around Lucy-Gray but none bite her.

Coriolanus lets out an unbelievable scoff.

‘She’s..She’s won” he says watching as the snakes continue to follow Lucy-Gray. He had won. The 10th annual victor. She was last standing, even Dean Highbottom couldn’t contest his win.

“It’a over. She won”, he says in a louder voice. Why was no one doing anything to stop the snakes, “Let her out!”

“Afraid that’s not your call to make, mr Snow”, Lucky insists.

He turns to the audience. Dr Gaul had come to see the final show. She sat high up in the breeches and must of come in when Coriolanus was distracted.

He drops your hand so he could turn and face her. She stared back with the same hateful and curious gaze. She knew what he had done.

But if she squealed on him, he would return the favor.

Your hands fly up to your face once more when Lucy-gray begins to sing. Tears pour from your eyes watching the young girl sing her last song.

Looking to get away from the camera that played on your pain, you pushed your way to the back.

“Dr gaul. She’s won”, Coriolanus yells, “It’s over let her out”.

“Why aren’t they attacking her?” Festus asks.

Dr Gual raises her eyebrows at him in a mocking fashion.

“It must be the signing. It’s calming them”, he deceives.

“She can’t sing forever”, Festus comments bitterly.

She just needs to sing long enough for Coriolanus to figure out a way to get her out.

“Dr Gaul, please”, Coriolanus tries, “Get her out”.

He could see the audience engrossed in the scene. He just needed to figure out how to turn it against Dr Gaul.

“Get her out!”, you yell across the room, following Coriolanus stare to Dr gaul.

Her eyes flick to you and you scream at her once more to release Lucy-gray.

Others join, chanting in protest.

“Who will watch the games if there is no victor?” he threatens.

Dr Gaul raises her hand to silence the audience, before turning to her assistant.

“Get her out”, she says loud enough for everyone to hear.

A cheer erupts the auditorium and Dr gaul wades herself through it to the silence of the hallway.

“She’s won! Lucy-Gray! Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the tenth annual Hunger games!” Lucky announces.

People rush from the stands to swarm him. Offering him congratulations and applause.

It all felt real now. He had done it. The plinth prize, you, were all his now.

He pushes to the crowd to get to where you stood in front of the bleaches.

You were smiling and clapping. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely for him, or if you were just glad Lucy-gray would live.

You looked beautiful and for once Sejanus was nowhere by your side. In this moment, you were entirely his.

You treated you as such, taking your face between his hands and stilling you for a kiss.

His lips smashed against you, his teeth nipped at the skin of your bottom lip asking you to part them for him.

You don’t pull away at first, but his lips are on you for less than ten seconds before you are shoving against his sore shoulder.

He is forced to drop his hand upon the impact. His shoulder ached from pain of being moved, and on reflux he lowered his arm to ease it.

Coriolanus could tell by the look on your face, you did not enjoy the kiss. Did he come on too strong? Did he accidently hit your bruise when he kissed you?

He opened his mouth to apologize for the above, but you took off before he could catch you.

It was impossible to follow you through the crowd of people. People would not part to let him through.

Some jeered at him for being pushed away but most still rode his victory wave.

Had he made a mistake? Where you not ready to leave Sejanus for him yet?

You had no right to reject him. He had won. Saved your life. Risked his own.

Coriolanus took a seat while the crowd surrounded him, and then disappeared. He stayed there until he was summoned by a peacekeeper much later.

He figured he was to see his victor before they sent her back home. The Peacekeeper led him to a chamber, but Lucy-Gray was nowhere to be seen.

“Lucy-Gray?” he called, “Lucy-Gray?”.

He sees a table in the middle of the room with his fathers handkerchief and his mother compact.

“To think, Mr Snow, you almost had it all” Dean Highbottom's voice taunts him.

“Where’s Lucy-Gray?”Coriolanus demanded. Had they hurt her for Coriolanus’s mistake?

“I would be more worried about yourself” Highbottom answered, stalking towards him.

“First y/n rejects you and now the prize money slips through your fingers”, Highbottom torments, “it’s fitting that both your parents could be here for your big moment”.

He gestures to the items on the table in front of Coriolanus.

“That compact, how many times did I see your mother use it? Come now, we both know that child from eleven didn’t die of disease. And that old handkerchief, we found it in the snake tank, condemning you with your fathers own initials”.

Highbottom rounds Coriolanus completely before standing in front of Coriolanus across the table.

“President Ravenstill has left your form of punishment up to me, and I’ve decided banishment to the districts where you’ll serve your Capitol in exile for the next twenty years as an anonymous, peacekeeping grunt”.

Dean Highbottom grins at Coriolanus who felt too frozen to do anything.

“You’ll never get your hands on y/n. She’s too good for you Mr Snow. By the time you get back I imagine her and Sejanus will be married with three or four children”.

It was true. Coriolanus wouldn’t be able to block the ongoing turn of events that was sure to happen with Sejanus. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He had worked so hard to have you, only to be taken away as soon as he got on equal footing with Sejanus.

“You hear that boy? That’s the sound of snow failing”, Highbottom proclaims.

He’ll be left with nothing more than a memory of you, while you will forget completely of the man who loved you so.

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #commander snow #dead dove do not eat

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nejiverse · 13 hours ago

Text

KIDS AND CARS

Toji Fushiguro

In which Toji who has been a father for six years is bested by his own girlfriend who has never been a mother. Fem! Reader

cw: none, im starting the ‘megumi being an expressive kid’ agenda 🫡

700ish words

Megumi was at that age where he rebelled against everything and anything Toji said or did. Frankly, it was starting to annoy Toji, he was starting to think his own son was trying to make his life a living hell on purpose

Then there was you who made it seem so effortless. Toji couldn’t comprehend why his six year old son only listened to his girlfriend

This particular day, Toji had an unimpressed look etched on his face as he folded his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was clearly fed up

“You have to put your toys away Megumi, I keep stepping on them”, he tried to be somewhat nice, he really did. But the boy just flat out ignored him as if he was deaf or something, continuing to bash his toy cars against each other while mimicking explosion noises. He was sat comfortably on the living room carpet with not a care in the world

Toji felt like a vein was about to burst as his brow twitched involuntarily. “I’m talking to you brat”, he spoke sternly, his patience drawing thin

In Toji’s defence, the little boy’s cars were scattered absolutely everywhere, it was hard to walk by without stepping on one. Besides, he was only playing with three out of the millions of toy cars on the floor

“Don’t wanna”.

Toji itched his head and clenched his teeth. Since when did his little boy upgrade from a simple ‘no’ to a ‘don’t wanna’?

Without a doubt, out of all the opponents he had faced in his lifetime, Megumi had to be his biggest challenge yet

“Yeah well I don’t give a fu—”, before Toji could finish his sentence, a hand came over his mouth

“Be nice”, his beloved girlfriend had a frown on her face because of his vulgar language

Toji sighed, relaxing his facial muscles and unfolding his arms. “Yeah yeah”

The woman approached Megumi, crouching down beside him with two of his little toy boxes in her hands after overhearing the whole situation while she was tidying his room.

“Say Megs”, she started with the nickname he loved to hear. “I’m really bored right now, can you play a game with me?”, at the mention of a game, Megumi perked up, turning to face Y/n

“What game?”, he asked, curiosity evident in his big blue eyes

“Whoever can pick up the most cars and put them into these boxes in 30 seconds wins!”, she explained before feigning a sad expression. “Oh but I don’t think you’ll be able to beat me, I am a faster runner than you after all”

Megumi felt challenged. “Liar! I’m the fastest!”, he boasted proudly

She smirked. “We’ll see about that….3, 2, 1, go!”, and the both of them scrambled to pick up as many cars as they could from the ground

Toji watched in amazement how good she was with him without ever having any experience with kids. He definitely chose the right person to date

Later that evening, after Megumi was tucked into bed and the house was quiet (finally), Y/n got comfortable between Toji’s legs as he threw on a random movie.

“Thanks for earlier, I feel like Megumi has a secret vendetta against me at the moment”, he commented

She laughed. “Im sure he doesn’t, you just have to know how to approach him”, she leaned her head against his chest. “He really is a good kid”.

“Mhm”, he hummed against her neck as his head moved to rest on her shoulder, his arms slithering around her waist

“Makes me think we’d do alright with more, y’know?”, his hands moved under her shirt and massaged the flesh around her stomach

She couldn’t resist the smile that creeped onto her lips as she turned around in his arms. “Toji Fushiguro are you asking me to have your kids?”.

“Is that a yes?”.

Well, is it?

a/n: off topic but kinda wanna start writing for bleach now that im caught up with the newest season 🤭 (requests opened btw)

masterlist :)

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aka-indulgence · 1 day ago

Note

Okay, so we know your opinion on Ram and Zen. But how about maximilien?

I am weak for omnics. I would be a happier and more romantically active individual if I lived in a world with omnics like

OMNIC MOB-BOSS TYPA GUY????? HELL YEAH??????

When I watched the storm rising cutscenes I kept rewinding and Looking at how he was playing with the coin in his fingers like my man is dextrous um 👁️ 👁️ 💦

Also he’s in a suit??? aaoushdsfjfgjdkhgd

Me replaying whenever Maximillien talks in the cinematic…

Also in a comic it’s shown Maximillien is hesitant about Talon’s operations so. Redemption arc? Maybe?? At the very least my guy’s helped overwatch by telling on Talon so

Yes. I like him. 😳

#ive seen people talk about having max as a hero and while i would love to see more of his handsome ass #the dude’s an accountant who’s only defense is to run away from the attacking party #he belongs in the office not the battlefield #i want to see him in the game so i can ogle him LMAO #man COULD YOU IMAGINE HIM IN PVE THOUGH #I WOULD STAND THERE AND STARE AT HIM #hes so handsome #omnics are always handsome and pretty. its not fair #like have you seen the omnic from the sombra backstory #i want him to bed me #for real #anyway thanks for listening to me drooling over omnics lol #overwatch #ask

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killerelysia · 1 day ago

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Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader! (Part 3!)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 10000

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

(Reader is G.N)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You're his and he's yours...

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, The relationship presented here between sol and reader is extremely toxic!! In no way, Just because I'm writing doesn't mean I support this kind of toxicity. Note, It's okay to like sol if you know the flaws and don't be a blind eye on them! Again, I don't support his actions etc! If you hate sol ignore this.

Somehow you managed to talk with Sol, Thank Hyugo- THO, He tried to kill you.

Of course, you're gonna complain.

You managed to strike up a normal conversation with Sol, and now he’s explaining the so-called assignment Mr. Professass (Professor) gave.

“Let’s use your face as an example,” he says with a sly grin.

“There, you’re making a cute expression right now—that can be considered expressionism.”

You blinked at his compliment, momentarily stunned. Sol seemed to know a lot about art, effortlessly weaving the concept into the conversation.

“Oh! Expressions! That’s easy! I used to draw a lot of yo—” You stopped mid-sentence, coughing to cover your sudden slip. Sol raised an eyebrow at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. How could he act so normal, like nothing ever fazed him?

“Was your friend good at art?” You asked, smoothly steering the conversation.

“Friend? Oh… you mean Hyugo. He ditched me at the last minute for some family business. He never talks about them, and I don’t pry.”

You nodded, a flicker of endearment softening his sharp features despite the faint annoyance in his tone. “He seems loud.”

“He did say sorry for dragging me into his mess—making me take his place and all.” You waved it off with a small smile. “But honestly, he’s a good guy. The best wingman, really.”

For a brief moment, you observed Sol closely. He rambled on about Hyugo, shaking his head as if exasperated, but there was a lingering warmth in his voice that betrayed his true feelings.

“Our first meeting wasn’t exactly ideal,” you said suddenly, cutting into the moment.

Sol paused mid-thought and tilted his head. “Oh? That’s…” His cheeks reddened slightly.

“I didn’t mean that chair situation,” you teased, leaning back. “I’m talking about your blue Jolly Rancher of a friend. That little menace tried to kill me with a pocket knife.”

The confession spilled out so quickly you almost laughed, but the expression on Sol’s face turned from confusion to shock—and then worry.

“Wait, seriously?” he asked, leaning closer. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, trying to downplay it. “It’s fine, really. I’m sure he won’t do it again.”

But Sol wasn’t convinced. His expression darkened slightly, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his voice. “I’ll talk to him. Thank you for telling me, Y/N. I’ll make sure he doesn’t pull anything like that again.”

“There’s no need for that!” you insisted, waving your hands in reassurance. “I’m sure it’s all water under the bridge now.”

Even so, Sol didn’t look entirely convinced. His determination to address the issue was kind of… cute. Watching him brood over it made your heart skip, a warmth pooling in your chest.

You pulled out your sketchpad on a whim and began doodling Sol’s expressions—the way his brows furrowed when he was deep in thought, the subtle pout tugging at his lips.

“Would you believe me if I told you Hyugo’s one of the top students in the entire class but is always missing in action?” Sol asked suddenly, breaking your focus.

“Probably busy with… uh… family stuff?” you guessed, barely glancing up as your pencil danced across the page.

“Yeah, something like that,” he muttered before noticing your scribbling. His gaze shifted to your sketchpad, and he leaned in curiously.

“Wait, were you drawing me this entire time?” Sol asked, his voice laced with both surprise and suspicion.

“Me? No, of course not!” you lied, trying to shield the sketchpad from view.

“Liar,” he said with a pout that nearly made your heart combust.

“Aww, come on, it’s not a big deal, Sullivan!”

“As in that monster from…?”

“Sorry, Sol.” You grinned sheepishly, attempting to cheer him up, but his exaggerated pout only grew more dramatic.

And for the millionth time that day, your heart had died from his unintentional charm.

You found yourself lost in the moment, staring at your sketchpad and then at Sol. A small, almost creepy smile crept onto your lips as you tilted the page toward him.

“You’re really cute,” you said softly, almost absentmindedly.

Sol blinked, his mouth opening slightly in shock.

You leaned closer, pointing to one of the sketches. “Like, look at this one. That little furrow in your brow when you’re annoyed? Adorable. And here!” You flipped to another. “This one, where you’re mid-smirk? It’s like you’re plotting something, but it’s so soft at the same time. And this one…”

You kept going, your voice trailing into near-obsessive detail about every single expression you’d captured. The way his lips curved when he was amused. The slight tilt of his head when he was curious. The barely-there pout when he was annoyed. Each word only made the lovesickness in your voice more obvious.

You caught yourself—barely—and let out a sheepish laugh, trying to backpedal. “I mean… Sol, you’re just… really cute, okay?” You smiled, hoping to play it cool, but the way your heart pounded in your chest wasn’t helping.

Sol stared at you, his face quickly turning an intense shade of red. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words just… weren’t coming.

Instead, he sat there, completely speechless. His ears burned red as he glanced between you and the sketchpad, frozen in place.

You leaned back, smirking as you tried to hide how flustered you were. “What, no snarky comeback? Cat got your tongue?”

Sol looked away quickly, burying his face in his hands with a muffled groan.

Your heart sank as you realized you might have overdone it. Sol was still red, his hands covering his face, and for a moment, he seemed smaller than his usual confident self.

“Ah, I—” you stammered, your voice softer now. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come off, uh, intense or anything.” You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, looking down at your sketchpad like it was a guilty accomplice. “I just… got carried away. You’re really cool, Sol, and I—”

You cut yourself off, biting your lip. You didn’t want to scare him off. Sol wasn’t like this when he was around other people. It was rare to catch him vulnerable like this—unguarded. And now you were worried you might’ve ruined it by being too much.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” you added quickly, your voice almost a whisper.

Sol finally lowered his hands, his expression unreadable for a second. His gaze flickered to you, then to the sketchpad, and back again. He blinked a few times, his blush still lingering.

“You… didn’t scare me,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

You froze, not entirely sure how to respond.

He glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck this time, mirroring your earlier nervousness. “I mean, it’s not every day someone… notices things like that about me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t pulling away.

“Still,” you said with a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, “I’ll tone it down. Promise. You’re just… interesting to draw, that’s all.” You paused before adding, “And, uh, to talk to. If that wasn’t obvious.”

For a moment, the awkward tension melted away. Sol leaned back slightly, still blushing but less defensive now. “Just… don’t let Hyugo see those sketches, okay? I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Deal,” you said with a laugh, relieved that the moment hadn’t ruined anything. If anything, it felt like you’d taken a step closer to understanding him—the real Sol, beneath all the bravado.

Sol leaned back in his chair, his usual cool demeanor cracking just a bit. "Alright, who's going first? You sketching me, or am I sketching you?"

You grinned, already pulling out your sketchbook and a charcoal pencil. "Guess that answers your question."

He raised a brow. “Want me to pose or something?”

“Nah, just sit however you want. It’s fine.” You waved him off casually, but your focus sharpened as you scanned his face, taking in every detail.

The way his jet-black hair fell in a soft cascade over his shoulders, streaked with green that caught the light just right—it was mesmerizing. His bangs framed his face, that one streak cutting down the middle and drawing attention to his eyes. And those eyes, with their burning orange inner ring fading to crimson at the edges, like embers glowing in a dying fire, they were impossible to look away from. His jawline was sharp but not harsh, balanced by the soft curve of his lips, which always seemed to rest in a mix of a pout and a smirk.

He was... handsome. And you couldn’t help but stare.

Too long, apparently.

Sol turned his head suddenly, catching you red-handed. His expression twisted into something flustered, and he turned away,

"Eyes on me!"

Sol blinked, jolted out of his daze. “Oh—sorry. I’m, uh, not used to staring at someone for that long.”

You tried to laugh it off, but your voice came out awkward. "“You know, just your boring face and all.” I got it! My face is boring!"

Sol turned back toward you, his cheeks tinged pink as he gave you a shy glance. “Your face isn’t boring,” he muttered, almost too softly for you to hear. “It’s… more… beautiful.”

Your heart slammed against your chest. Heat flooded your cheeks, and for a moment, you felt like you might combust on the spot. You stared at him, utterly frozen, the charcoal pencil trembling slightly in your hand.

Oh my god, I’m dying. This is it. I’m dying. Again. For the millionth time.

You tried to recover, puffing out your cheeks in mock frustration to defuse the tension. “Nope. Not doing this. You’re not allowed to be cute while I’m trying to work.”

Sol smiled—really smiled—and it was devastating. Soft, genuine, and just shy enough to make your heart stutter.

And then, as if to finish you off completely, you almost missed the way his eyes lingered on you. They were hazy, love-drunk, filled with something dangerously soft and unspoken.

Oh, you sick bastard, Sol, you thought, trying not to let your face give away the chaos in your head. I love you for that.

You started sketching, letting the charcoal glide over the paper with care that bordered on reverence. Each stroke of the pencil became a quiet obsession, capturing the slight arch of his brow, the curve of his jaw, the sharp bridge of his nose that added so much character to his face.

Your fingers moved instinctively, but your mind was a storm.

This won’t be enough.

You paused, glancing up at him again. His face was relaxed, but there was a faint curiosity in his eyes as he tried to stay still for you. That softness in his expression—it was the kind that sent a thrill down your spine. It wasn’t just a face you wanted to draw; it was him.

Your chest tightened. No amount of sketches could ever capture him fully. His little mannerisms, the way his lips twitched slightly when he was lost in thought, how his lashes cast shadows across his cheekbones when he glanced away—how could charcoal and paper ever do justice to that?

No drawing will ever be enough until I get you. All of you.

You swallowed hard, your pencil slowing for a moment as you scanned his face again, letting your gaze linger just a second too long. His expression shifted slightly—was that a flicker of unease? Or maybe curiosity?

You smiled softly, trying to mask the possessive edge in your thoughts. “Sorry. Just trying to get it perfect.”

Sol tilted his head, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “Take your time. Not like I’m going anywhere.”

Oh, you’re not. Not now, not ever.

The thought burned in your chest as you leaned closer, focusing on the details. The dip of his collarbone where it peeked from his shirt, the way his hair caught the faint light from the window, framing his face like a portrait already waiting to be hung. Your pencil moved with an almost feverish precision, each stroke pulling you deeper into your fixation.

And yet, it still wasn’t enough.

You let out a shaky breath, glancing up at him one more time. He caught your gaze this time, and his eyes softened. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” you murmured, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

But in your mind, a different answer screamed: It’s not enough. I need more.

You quickly looked back at your sketchpad, your cheeks burning, hoping the intensity of your thoughts wasn’t plastered all over your face.

The bell rang, slicing through the quiet moment between you and Sol. You startled slightly, realizing how much time had passed, and quickly closed your sketchbook.

"Alright, we’re done for now," you said, tucking the pencil into your bag.

Sol leaned forward, his curiosity practically radiating off him. “Wait—can I at least peek?”

You shook your head firmly. “Nope.”

“Boo,” he said, pouting in a way that almost felt illegal. The exaggerated downturn of his lips, the wide-eyed pleading look—it was devastating.

You sighed heavily, knowing you were no match for that expression. “Fine. Just a peek. But no judging, alright?”

He grinned triumphantly as you opened the sketchbook, angling it toward him. His gaze settled on the page, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared.

“Wow,” he finally breathed, his voice low and almost awed. “You… you drew this? Like, just now?”

You tried to play it off, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal, but your heart raced. “Yeah, it’s just a rough piece. Nothing special.”

His eyes didn’t leave the sketch. “Nothing special? Are you kidding me? It’s—” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly. “It’s perfect. You captured… everything.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you fought to keep your expression neutral. Instead, you just smiled weakly and looked away, your thoughts a whirlwind. Of course, I captured everything. I’ve drawn you so many times, Sol. In my mind, in my journals. You’re practically etched into my soul.

“It’s not that great,” you muttered, trying to dismiss his praise.

He blinked at you, his expression shifting from awe to disbelief. “No. It’s good. Actually, it’s better than good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head, cutting you off. “It’s better than anything I’ve ever drawn.”

Your eyes widened. “Get the fuck out.”

“No, I’m serious!” he said, looking at you earnestly. “It’s amazing, and—wait, you think I’m talented?”

You froze for a split second, and then words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. “I mean, yeah. Your portrait which I st—uh, think!—is really good.”

You coughed mid-sentence, your throat suddenly dry as panic set in. Sol’s eyes widened, and he immediately jumped up, grabbing a bottle of water from his bag. “Hey, you okay? Here, drink this!”

You took the water, your hands brushing briefly as he handed it to you. His concern was palpable, his orange-red eyes scanning your face. You quickly gulped some water and waved a hand to reassure him. “I’m fine! Just… choked on my words. Literally.”

He frowned, clearly not convinced, but let it go.

You cleared your throat and tried to steer the conversation back. “Anyway, we’ve still got two more works to finish for this project. Let’s… exchange numbers so we can plan things out?”

Sol nodded, pulling out his phone. “Yeah, good idea.”

The exchange was quick, and within moments, your phone buzzed with a message.

Sup.

You stared at it, blinking, before a laugh bubbled out of you. “You type so differently than you talk.”

Sol raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

"Nothing."

You glanced at Sol, who was now scrolling lazily on his phone, and a thought hit you like a freight train. He was so intriguing, so magnetic, but also… so misunderstood.

You couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out, “Y’know, I bet a lot of people mistake you for someone you’re not.”

He looked up, tilting his head curiously. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. “I mean… you come off as this super confident, kind of aloof guy, but you’re… more than that. People probably don’t take the time to really get you. To understand you.”

His brows furrowed slightly, and you felt your chest tighten. You hadn’t even planned this conversation, but now you were tumbling forward without brakes.

“And I… I want to be that person,” you said, your voice wavering. “I want to understand you, Sol. I want to know the real you. I want us to…” You paused, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “…to be friends.”

The word friends fell from your lips like a rock, heavy and jagged. It sounded so wrong, so painfully inadequate for how you felt. You wanted to claw it out of the air and burn it before it could reach him. But what else could you say? You couldn’t just ask him to marry you on the first day you’d truly spoken.

Sol blinked, his expression softening. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, but then he smiled.

“So,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “let’s make today the start of something. The start of a wonderful friendship. What do you think, Y/N L/N?”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

Friendship?! FRIENDSHIP?! Your inner voice screamed, but outwardly, you managed a bright, almost too-cheerful nod. “Yeah! Of course!”

The smile on your face didn’t match the agony in your chest. You were happy to be close to him—really—but it wasn’t enough. Not when you wanted so much more.

Sol leaned back, his casual demeanor unchanged, you felt your heart breaking all over again. And yet, as painful as it was, you told yourself it was a start.

I’ll take this. For now.

But deep down, you couldn’t ignore the ache that wouldn’t go away. The way the word “friendship” echoed in your mind like a cruel joke. You wanted more, and the thought of settling for less was unbearable. Still, you smiled at him, masking the pain, determined to be patient.

Even if it killed you.

As you stood up, preparing to leave, a strange weight settled in your chest. Sol’s words echoed in your mind, the promise to see each other tomorrow. It was enough to make your heart ache, to feel something stir inside you that you weren’t sure how to handle. The idea of friendship—just friendship—with him made everything seem so much harder.

You gave him a smile, even though it felt like your insides were twisting in pain. “Will we see each other tomorrow? And… if it’s possible, could we hang out?” Your eyes were a little too soft, a little too vulnerable, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye for fear of what would spill out.

His expression shifted, that familiar lack of emotion, the calm mask he wore all the time. It was hard to read, hard to decipher, but you didn’t need to. You already knew the answer. His expression was now full of...surprise, he answered faster than you expected!

“Ah! Yes, of course! See you tomorrow.” He gave a small nod, his voice reassuring but distant. You were sure he didn’t feel the same urgency, the same burning desire that you did.

You patted his shoulder, your fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. The sensation of his warmth sent a shockwave through you, and you fought to keep your cool. “See you tomorrow, Sol.”

You turned and left.

Your footsteps echoed in the hallway as you walked away, a slight frown pulling at your lips. The walls around you were decorated in some half-hearted Halloween theme—streamers, fake cobwebs, jack-o’-lanterns—but it all felt like a blur. You didn’t care about the decorations or the meaningless chatter around you. Everything felt muted, distant.

Then, as you pulled your phone from your pocket, a text from Crowe appeared, and your stomach twisted.

Crowe: "Waiting for you outside the gate."

It hit you like a punch to the gut. Crowe. Your friend. The one you’d always relied on, the one you cared about deeply. But now… you were torn. Torn between Crowe and Sol, between what had always been familiar and what was now irresistible, unsettling. You couldn’t lie to yourself: having a friendship with Sol was so distracting. Every time you saw him, you couldn’t focus, couldn’t think. It was overwhelming. And it was dangerous.

You cared for Crowe, too, didn’t you? Of course you did. He had always been there for you, your anchor in a sea of chaos. But… when you thought of Sol, when you remembered his gaze, the way he spoke to you, how he looked at you—how he made you feel—you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You stopped in the hallway. Your breath caught in your throat. The truth had become too real.

I’m choosing Sol over Crowe.

The thought was like a blade, cutting deep into your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about Crowe. You did. You always had. But this… what you felt for Sol—this strange, insatiable need to be closer to him, to know him, to feel something more than friendship—was undeniable. Crowe had always been there, but Sol… he was different.

But now, you had a problem. A big problem.

You loved Crowe. Or, at least, you thought you did. And you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, of him hating you, of him finding out about the way your heart raced when Sol was near. It was so unfair to Crowe, but you had to do it. You had to.

It was painful, but there was no other choice.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head as you walked toward the exit, your heart heavy with the weight of what you had to do. You couldn’t think of Sol anymore. You couldn’t let yourself be distracted.

You had to push Crowe away.

And the only way to do that was to make him hate you.

As the thought settled in your mind, you could feel your stomach churn. It hurt. It really hurt. But this was the only way to make sure you wouldn’t be distracted. To make sure you could stop yourself from falling any deeper.

You reached the gate, and Crowe was standing there, leaning casually against the wall. He looked up as he saw you approach, a smile lighting up his face. It made your chest tighten.

You hated what you were about to do. But you had no choice.

No one ever said love was easy.

It wasn't just for that.

He's watching, He's always is.

Crowe stood there, radiating his usual easygoing confidence. His bag was neatly placed on the ground, his posture upright and casual, arms held behind his back as he tapped his foot in quiet anticipation.

You felt like you were walking in a dream—or maybe a nightmare. Each step toward him was like dragging yourself through thick, suffocating fog. You were broken. Pieces of your heart scattered, and you didn’t even know how to piece them back together. You didn’t know what you were doing, what you even wanted anymore.

You finally reached him, forcing your voice to sound steady. “Crowe… what’s the work?”

Crowe blinked, clearly surprised. “Work?” His eyebrows furrowed, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “No, Y/N… I just wanted to hang out.”

The words stung like a slap, and a pang of guilt twisted in your chest. Just wanted to hang out.

But the words should’ve been comforting, right? Crowe was always like this—sweet, casual, like he cared. He never made things complicated, never put pressure on you, just wanting to spend time with you. And yet… there was that feeling gnawing at you. A feeling you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

“I was thinking of taking you somewhere,” he continued, his voice lighter now. “There’s a neat park nearby. It’s a bit quieter. I can lead you there if you want.” His face lit up with excitement, and for a split second, you thought you saw something more.

Why was he so… excited?

Do you think…? No, it can’t be right.

You looked down at your feet, the weight of the situation sinking in. Regret gnawed at you, but you still smiled, trying to push the discomfort away. “Yeah… that sounds nice.”

Crowe grinned, his eyes bright with that familiar warmth. “Great! Let’s go then.”

Take his hand

TAKE HIS ARM

HAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

You bit your lip, trying to find an excuse, any excuse to create distance. You didn’t want to be close to him right now—not when your heart was torn between him and someone else. Not when you couldn’t stop thinking about Sol, and the pain of choosing between them was suffocating.

And then, a solution hit you.

“I’ll carry your bag,” you said quickly, as if the words could erase the guilt already creeping in. You didn’t wait for his protest, picking up the bag and holding it in your hands, keeping it between you and Crowe like a barrier.

He frowned, about to say something. “No, Y/N, you really don’t have to—”

“I insist,” you cut him off, your voice firmer than you felt. “It’s fine. Really.”

You couldn’t let yourself touch him, not right now. Not when your thoughts were so clouded with confusion and desire. You couldn’t let the connection between you two grow any deeper. You had to keep distance, even if it was just a simple gesture like this.

Crowe sighed but didn’t argue, following you with that same concerned look in his eyes.

This is the only way to make sure you won’t get distracted.

You tried not to think too much about how wrong it felt to avoid him like this, but every time you looked at Crowe, your heart sank a little more. He was your friend, your best friend, but the truth was, your feelings were too complicated, too mixed up now.

you walked side by side, the silence between you two felt heavy, suffocating. You tried to focus on the road ahead, telling yourself that this was the right thing to do.

Every step felt like you were walking further away from the person you used to be, a person who hadn’t been so consumed by obsession, by him.

How had it gotten this dark?

You couldn’t ignore the ache in your chest, the constant pull toward Sol. You kept thinking about him—his face, the way his eyes met yours with that unreadable expression, the way your heart had thundered when he leaned in closer, the way he seemed perfect. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, not even for a second, and now—now everything else seemed to fade into the background.

You could almost picture it clearly: Sol, leaning down toward you, his lips just inches away, his eyes so intense as if he could feel what you were feeling. You felt your breath quicken, your heartbeat escalating, imagining the moment you would kiss him, desperate for his touch, for something real—something more.

But then, just as you were about to lose yourself in the fantasy, something yanked you back to reality.

Crowe’s hands were suddenly on your arms, pulling you back from the abyss of your thoughts. His grip was firm but gentle, as if afraid you might break under the weight of your own mind.

“Y/N…” he said, voice low, laced with concern. His eyes searched yours, his gaze soft but full of worry. “You’re… you’re making a really concerning expression right now.”

You blinked, feeling a strange, almost drooling sensation, like you were half there and half lost in some other world. You realized you’d been staring into nothing, your mind completely consumed by the image of Sol.

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe what was happening to you.

“Y/N, you…” Crowe hesitated, unsure how to put it into words. “You look… almost…” He trailed off, his voice a little shaky. “Disgusting?”

His words hit you like a bucket of ice water. Disgusting?

You felt a pit form in your stomach. What was wrong with you?

But Crowe didn’t leave it at that. He could see the confusion in your eyes, the hurt behind your forced smile, and he gently squeezed your arms. “No, Y/N. Nothing you do is disgusting, okay? Nothing.”

His words were meant to reassure you, but they only added to the chaos in your mind. It was almost like you wanted to believe him, but the truth was too overwhelming. You were becoming obsessed with Sol.

No shit sherlock!

You looked at Crowe, barely able to meet his gaze.

You kept walking, but something inside you pulled back. You felt like you were drifting away, each step carrying you further from reality. You heard Crowe's footsteps pause behind you, and when you turned around, his worried expression stopped you in your tracks. His brow furrowed, his mouth set in a firm line as he studied you.

Without warning, he grabbed your hand, his grip gentle yet insistent.

“I wanted to talk about you maybe trying out with our new friends,” Crowe began, his voice a little too calm, too measured. But there was something in his eyes—a flicker of concern—that made your stomach twist.

But he didn’t stop there. “But I won’t ignore the fact that you’ve been different for the past couple of months… something’s wrong.”

You froze, your heart racing. The evening sky had turned dark, the sun dipping below the horizon. Shadows stretched across the empty street as the quiet evening began to feel suffocating. You didn’t want to hear this. You didn’t want him to see through you.

“Ichabod,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, as you tried to brush him off. "You’re wasting my time. I told you, I wanted to hang out. I came out for you." Your words sounded cold, distant, like you were trying to push him away. You weren’t sure anymore if you were trying to hide yourself from Crowe or from your own feelings.

Crowe’s eyes hardened, his jaw clenched as anger began to brew beneath the surface. “Tell me what’s really going on.” His voice was tight, almost accusing. “You’ve been acting off for weeks now. Something’s wrong, and you won’t even talk to me about it.”

His words dug deep, and you felt that same uncomfortable pressure in your chest.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out. The thoughts in your head were too chaotic, too tangled.

“You’re just tired, right?” Crowe asked, his tone softening, but there was still an edge to it. “That’s why you’re being so cold, so distant?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to. You were exhausted—mentally, emotionally—but that wasn’t the only reason you were like this. The real truth was something you couldn’t even admit to yourself, let alone him. You couldn’t talk about it. You couldn’t say it aloud.

Without waiting for your response, Crowe let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we’re heading to the same place, but… this isn’t just to hang out. I’m not going to ignore the fact that you’re acting strange.”

Your heart sank. He had already figured it out.

Crowe’s words were sharper now, almost impatient, as if he was done pretending like everything was fine. “We’re going to talk. Not just waste time. We’re going to talk about what’s going on with you.”

Your body tensed. You felt the pressure of the moment building. You didn’t want to face this. You didn’t want to confront what was happening inside you, because the truth was far more complicated than you were ready to admit.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

But Crowe wasn’t buying it. His expression was unreadable, but his grip on your hand remained firm, guiding you forward. You could feel him watching you, analyzing every movement, every word, trying to figure out the truth.

You stood there, staring up at the night sky, your thoughts drifting once again. The stars above were beautiful, too beautiful for what you were feeling. It felt like everything around you was so peaceful, so perfect—but inside, you were falling apart. You couldn’t stop thinking about Sol, the image of him haunting your mind as you pictured him in every corner of your thoughts.

You had to get home. You had to go back. You wondered if he had drugged the food yet, the thought making your stomach churn with an odd mixture of excitement and dread. Sol… you thought.

Why was I always thinking about him?

You chuckled softly to yourself, a laugh that didn’t feel like it belonged to you. The sound was hollow, almost insane in its desperation, and you had no control over it. The more you thought about him, the more you couldn’t stop imagining all the what ifs—what if you could be with him? What if you could make him yours?

You closed your eyes for a moment, the image of Sol’s face appearing before you, his expression warm, inviting, even though it was a fantasy.

You opened your eyes, and it was like you were in a trance. There was Crowe, standing beside you, watching you intently, his gaze sharp and focused. You didn’t notice him at first, lost in your own world, but when you did, you were startled by his expression. He was just standing there, his posture stiff as he watched you with a mixture of confusion and something darker.

His eyes narrowed, almost like he was trying to understand what was going on in your head. It was as if he saw something in you that you didn’t want to admit.

You couldn’t even hide it anymore. You were obsessed. You were lost in thoughts of Sol, and now Crowe could probably see it. He was watching you closely, almost like he was analyzing every move, every flicker of your gaze.

Crowe was silent for a moment, closing his eyes as though trying to calm himself down. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. There was something heavy hanging between you two, something unspoken that made the air feel thick and suffocating.

You felt like you had been caught, but it wasn’t just about your actions anymore—it was about the part of you that was slipping away, the part of you that was losing its grip on reality. The part of you that was getting too close to Sol. Too obsessed.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to explain it. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit that the only thing on your mind right now was him, and you couldn’t lie to Crowe. But you couldn’t stop.

You were spiraling deeper into this madness, and the more you tried to pull yourself out, the further you fell.

Crowe didn’t speak, but his eyes were still on you, studying you with such intensity. The silence between you two was deafening, and it felt like you couldn’t escape from the weight of the moment. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep pretending everything was fine, because inside, everything was breaking apart.

Finally, Crowe sighed, his voice low and heavy. “Y/N…”

But you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear him lecture you about your behavior, about how wrong you were, how obsessive you had become. Because you already knew. You already felt it. And the worst part was that you didn’t care.

You were too far gone.

Crowe coughed, a forced sound that echoed in the silence between you two, and the moment was ruined. The image of Sol, the one you had been fantasizing about just moments before, began to fade as you were pulled back into the present. You clenched your jaw, an unfamiliar anger bubbling up inside of you.

“What?” you snapped, your voice sharper than intended. The irritation was there, raw and unfiltered. He had broken your daydream—your escape.

Crowe, startled by your sudden outburst, looked away, his eyes betraying a hint of confusion and concern. “Y/N… what happened to you?” he asked, his voice softer now, but still laced with that underlying worry.

You immediately shut down, wanting nothing to do with the question. “Nothing’s wrong,” you muttered, your gaze already shifting back toward the stars, seeking refuge in the familiar expanse of the night sky. You sat down on the grass, trying to drown out the noise in your head.

Crowe didn’t stop. He sat beside you, his presence heavy as he continued to ask questions, trying to piece together the puzzle of what was going on with you. But you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to think about it.

You buried yourself in the task of picking at the grass, mindlessly drawing out Sol’s name in the dirt with the tips of your fingers. Sol...

Your eyes softened as you traced the letters, the feeling of love and obsession creeping in once more. You didn’t care if it was unhealthy. You didn’t care that you were losing it. In that moment, Sol was everything.

Then, Crowe’s voice broke through again. “Y/N… I’m talking to you.”

You snapped your head toward him, your patience thinning. “Shut up,” you muttered, the words slipping from your mouth before you could even register them. He had ruined it again. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand.

Crowe went silent, and when you looked at him, you saw that his expression had shifted. He looked hurt—surprised, even. But that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the way he was looking at you, as if he had just realized how different you had become.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew. You saw it in his eyes, in the way he now regarded you. You were scary.

You suddenly felt that weight pressing down on your chest—the guilt, the realization of what you had just become. Your eyes, the same ones that hadn’t slept properly in days, were dark and haunted. You could feel the darkness inside you swirling, pulling you deeper into this obsession.

You felt the regret hit you like a wave, and without thinking, you..

Crowe’s eyes softened, and there was a painful hesitation in his voice. He looked at you, trying to piece together the person in front of him—the person you used to be. “What happened to you...?” His voice was tinged with sadness, something you had never heard from him before. It was like he was watching a stranger before him, and it made you feel... uncomfortable, uneasy.

You cocked your head slightly, feigning confusion, though deep down you knew exactly what he was getting at. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice quieter now, as you tried to keep your emotions under wraps.

Crowe ran a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips before he spoke again. “It’s just! Look at you! You’re... nowadays sleep-deprived, always walking away... One of the students even complained to the council that you were... laughing a lot in the restroom. You threatened them to be silent... This isn’t like you...” His voice faltered at the end, as if he were afraid to say too much, afraid of pushing you further.

You shrugged, trying to dismiss it. “Ah, so what?” You could feel the coldness creeping into your tone, but you couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t like you cared anymore.

“I’m not sure who you are anymore...” Crowe's words were heavy, like each one was a weight being pressed onto you. “You used to be a quiet, caring, bookworm artist who liked to listen... and a good child who cared about their father getting their land back. But now...” He trailed off, his voice thick with concern.

You stared at him, your expression hardening. “Ichabod, stop it... Crowe, what’s with you? What are you trying to say?” Your voice cracked slightly with frustration, but you didn’t let it show too much. You weren’t going to let him make you feel guilty, not when everything inside you was already breaking apart.

“You’re not yourself anymore,” he said, his voice quiet now, almost pleading. “Is there a reason...? You’ve become so... cold. Toward me too... You used to...”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you refused to show any sign of weakness. You didn’t want to hear it. “You only know me for what you think,” you said through clenched teeth. “You don’t know me as a person. You don’t have the right to complain.”

Crowe’s face twisted, the hurt evident in his eyes as he took a step closer, his voice trembling. “Complain?! Y/N! I’m someone who cares about you! I’m worried about you!”

You couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped your lips. “Cared?” you spat, the word leaving a bad taste in your mouth. “Don’t make me laugh, Crowe. Didn’t I just say? Friend... friend... friend...” The word felt like a poison on your tongue. You hated it, but you said it anyway.

He was taken aback, the raw emotion in his face faltering as he blinked at you, unsure how to respond. “Then... What am I to you?” His voice was shaky, desperate for an answer.

You looked at him, almost broken, as the answer came to you, something so twisted and bitter you couldn’t help but say it. “You WERE MY savior,” you said, your voice hollow. “A friend.” You looked away quickly, trying to hide the sinking feeling inside you. What have I become?

Crowe stood there for a moment, processing your words, before he shook his head slightly. “Then I guess... I don’t really know who you are anymore, Y/N. What you are...” His voice cracked. "I’m sorry for ruining your day.”

You didn’t know how to feel anymore. His words had hit you harder than anything, but you couldn’t bring yourself to show it. “Yeah, you don’t,” you whispered. Crowe was about to..leave but he held your arm.

Crowe’s grip on your arm tightened, his voice sharp and laced with panic. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, his face flushed with a mix of confusion and frustration. “Why are you acting like this? What happened to you?!”

His desperate eyes were searching yours, but all you could feel was anger and suffocating tension. You had enough of his questions, enough of his concern. You had too much of him in your life, and it was beginning to tear you apart. You couldn’t breathe in the face of it anymore.

"Shut up!" you screamed, the words ripping through the silence. "Shut up, Crowe! Just... shut up!"

You yanked your arm away from him, the fire in your chest growing. This wasn’t you, not the person he thought you were. Not anymore. You had changed, and he needed to accept it.

Crowe’s eyes widened in shock, but you couldn’t care less. He didn’t understand. He wouldn’t. You were done trying to explain yourself to someone who couldn’t see the chaos inside your mind.

Suddenly, you grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer with force, your body trembling with the anger you could no longer suppress. “YOU’RE THE PROBLEM!” you screamed at him, your voice cracking. "YOU distract me, away from my life. You make everything so damn complicated! I want to focus on something, but you keep getting in my way! You make everything harder!"

Tears welled in your eyes, but you fought them back, gritting your teeth. “I DON’T WANT FRIENDS! LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!”

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you shoved him away, forcing yourself to take a step back. You grabbed your bag, clutching it tightly as if it were the last thing keeping you grounded.

Crowe stood frozen, his face pale, looking as if your words had physically struck him. But his voice was quiet, almost resigned. “Have fun with the group of people you’re trying to fix,” you spat bitterly. “But stay the hell away from me. I’m done.”

You turned sharply, your heart hammering in your chest as you walked away, the cold night air hitting your face, but you barely felt it. Your legs carried you without thought, away from Crowe, away from the situation you had created.

“Have fun with your new friends. I’m telling you this now... if you want to live happily... Stay with them. I’m done for.”

And with that, you walked away, your heart torn in two but your mind resolute. You didn’t look back. You couldn’t afford to.

You made it home, the door slamming shut behind you as you staggered into the dimly lit living room. The emptiness felt like it was swallowing you whole, but it was the kind of emptiness you had grown used to. The kind that didn't scream for attention, just quietly gnawed at your soul.

You collapsed to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as your body shook. The tears came like a dam breaking open—heavy, hot, and relentless. It wasn’t just from the fight with Crowe, not just because of the raw pain in your chest. No, it was because you had to do it. You had to push him away, had to convince yourself that you hated him. You had to protect him.

It wasn’t like you didn’t care about Crowe; it was the opposite. You cared too much. And that kind of care was dangerous when you had someone like Sol watching you from the shadows, his jealousy like a burning fuse ready to snap at any moment. You had seen it, the way he watched Crowe, the way his eyes hardened whenever his name was mentioned.

Sol could never find out about Crowe. If Sol knew, he would kill him—you were sure of it. And that couldn’t happen. Not while you still had this insane, twisted obsession with Sol. The last thing you wanted was to lose the only person who made you feel something in this chaotic mess of emotions.

and to be peaceful with sol.

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, taking a shuddering breath as you reached for the small pile of things you had been hiding in your bag. It was a strange collection: a piece of bandage you had stolen from the nurse’s office, a pencil Sol had left on his desk, a scrap of paper with a doodle of his—just things, little things. But to you, they were treasures. They were all you had left of him.

Hugging them to your chest, you buried your face in the soft bandage. His scent lingered faintly on it, something sharp and comforting. The smell of Sol. The smell of everything you wanted. It calmed the storm inside your head, at least for a moment.

Your mind wandered, thoughts growing hazy as the delusions crept in. You imagined Sol with you, imagined him loving you, imagined a life where he saw you as something more than just an object of desire. But that was all it would ever be—delusion. And yet, it felt so real, so comforting in that moment of weakness.

You clung to the bandage tighter, your tears soaking into the fabric. You couldn’t stop it. You wanted to scream, to let it all out, but the sensation of holding onto something—anything—was a distraction. It kept you from falling apart completely.

And in that moment, despite the overwhelming sadness, you felt a twisted sense of gratitude. “Thank God…” you whispered, your voice cracking. You didn’t even know what you were thankful for...

You sat there in the darkness of your room, the weight of the bandage pressing against your chest as you clutched it tighter, your fingers trembling with a twisted sense of ownership. The smell of Sol was still faint on the fabric, but to you, it was everything. It was him, in your hands, in your arms, in your mind.

A sick, deranged smile stretched across your lips, creeping its way into your expression as you hugged the bandages closer. The soft, comforting scent of Sol's presence made your heart race, and every thought felt like a desperate plea to keep him to yourself, to make him yours. It didn’t matter that you knew how wrong it all was; it didn’t matter that you were sinking deeper into this madness. In this moment, you were consumed, body and soul, by the idea of him.

You could almost see him—feel him—right next to you. The way his eyes would soften when he looked at you, how his voice would whisper your name in that quiet, gentle way, if only he knew how much you loved him. The fantasies played in your mind like a twisted film reel, each scene more vivid, more real than the last.

“Sol...” you whispered, barely able to keep the name from slipping off your tongue. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your voice was soft, almost reverent, but there was a madness in your eyes. Your pupils dilated as your smile deepened, the corners of your mouth stretching until it felt like your face couldn’t contain the longing and obsession.

The bandage in your hands was no longer just a piece of cloth. It was a symbol. A symbol of the twisted bond you had with him, the bond you were building, even if he didn’t know it. You felt your chest tighten, your breath hitching in your throat. You imagined what it would be like when he finally realized—when he finally saw you, truly saw you, not just as a fleeting moment in his life, but as the one who loved him the most, the one who would never let him go.

Your mind raced, wild and untamed, thoughts spiraling in a whirlpool of desperation. What would you do if he knew? Would he ever love you back, or would he push you away like everyone else had? No. You wouldn’t let that happen.

You could feel a twinge of possessiveness, something dark and primal clawing at your insides, as you pressed the bandage to your face, inhaling deeply.

I need him. I need him so much…

A bitter laugh bubbled up from deep within your throat, a hollow sound that echoed around the room, dark and twisted. “I’ll make sure no one takes you from me. Not anyone. You’ll be mine, Sol. Forever...”

You closed your eyes, your fingers clutching the bandage as if it were the most precious thing in the world. A tear slipped down your cheek, though it wasn’t from sadness. It was from the overwhelming need, the obsessive desire that consumed every corner of your heart.

You smiled again, slower this time, as you whispered to the empty room, “You’ll see... You’ll see, Sol. We’re meant to be. You have me in your order already.."

The sudden buzz of your phone broke through the fog of obsession, pulling you back to reality with a jolt. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Crowe’s name flash on the screen. You felt a rush of panic that surged through your chest like ice-water.

Shit.

You quickly unlocked your phone, your fingers trembling as you read his message. "Hey, can I add you to the group chat with the others? Just thought it’d be fun to hang out more!"

You stared at the words, each syllable clawing at you.every interaction with Crowe felt like another chain around your neck, pulling you further away from Sol, from the delusion of him.

Your heart raced, a sick, suffocating feeling creeping up your throat. You couldn't afford to keep Crowe close. He was a distraction. The more you interacted with him, the more dangerous it became. Sol was always watching, always simmering in the background, and you couldn’t risk him finding out about Crowe. No more distractions.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers moved faster than your mind. You typed the word “no” before deleting the message, quickly following up by erasing his contact entirely.

Done. That’s it. No more Crowe.

You breathed a sigh of relief—for now. You thought you could relax. You thought you could get back to your twisted little world with Sol, without anyone else interfering.

But then it happened.

The sickening realization hit you like a brick to the chest.

SHIT.

Crowe had added you to the group chat before you deleted his contact.

Your heart sank. You cursed under your breath, panic bubbling up inside you. You immediately opened the group chat, only to be greeted by a flood of messages. His name was there, right at the top of the list, and your chest tightened as you saw a few of the others already chatting away.

The chat was buzzing with messages about the Halloween party at school this Friday. The excitement was palpable, everyone discussing costumes, plans, and what to expect. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anticipation in the air as you scrolled through the messages, catching bits and pieces of the conversation.

Your mind drifted, and a thought struck you suddenly—maybe I should ask him to come with me.

Without a second thought, you quickly snapped a screenshot of the party announcement that Deryl had sent earlier, one with all the details. You attached it to the message and sent it in the group chat, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you weren’t just sharing the information with the others.

Almost immediately, your phone buzzed with a response from Sol.

“A Halloween Party hosted by the school?” he asked, his message clear and direct, as always.

You felt a small spark of hope rise within you. Maybe this could be the perfect chance.

You sent another message, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you typed, asking if Sol had eaten yet. It felt like a random question, but your mind was racing, eager for some kind of connection.

You kept sending little questions, almost aimlessly—anything to keep the conversation going. It felt like you were trying to fill the silence, but deep down, you knew what you were really doing.

You were craving his attention, his responses. You couldn’t help it.

"I'm not quite into parties," Sol replied after a moment, his words calm but distant.

"Oh... Well, that's alright, just asking, that's all," you quickly typed back, trying not to sound disappointed, though a part of you was.

Then, to your surprise, another message came in almost immediately.

"Wait."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"If you're coming, then I'm coming as well."

The words sent a wave of excitement through you. He’s coming?!

"Really?!" you typed, almost too quickly, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Really," he replied, and for a moment, you felt your stomach flip.

"Do you plan on dressing up?" you asked, the curiosity getting the best of you.

"I don't know. Do you?" he responded.

"I mean, it's a costume party. Why not?" you replied, enthusiasm creeping into your tone.

"I'll think of something then," he said, and you could almost hear the slight smile in his words.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure whether to push Sol into the idea of going to the party. It felt like too much pressure, so you decided to soften your approach.

"It’s fine if you don’t want to come..." you typed, trying to make it sound casual. You didn’t want to make him feel obligated, but you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest at the thought of being alone at the party.

"Pardon?" he responded quickly, a bit confused. You could almost picture the raised eyebrow from him, a slight shift in tone.

"I mean, it’s Friday, so it’s the weekend, right?" You continued, trying to hide the vulnerability behind your words. "We could still hang out without going to the party. I just... didn’t want to be lonely."

There it was, the truth spilling out, but also a part of you knowing it was a perfect excuse for your real intentions. You needed Sol close. You needed him to understand that Crowe was out of the picture, that no one else could get in the way.

He was quiet for a moment, then typed: "Do you want to hang out with me?"

Your heart skipped. You didn't even hesitate.

"Yes," you typed, without a second thought. It was like you were dropping the last of your guard, exposing the raw, desperate need for his presence.

But deep down, you also knew you were playing the game just right. You were making sure to look like you were alone, like you didn’t have anyone else in your life. Crowe was out, and now Sol could see how easy it would be for him to sweep in. He’ll understand, you thought to yourself. I’m the fresh rabbit, and he’s always watching.

Your thoughts wandered to your conversation. You knew Sol liked horror films, he’d mentioned it before. You felt a surge of inspiration.

"What about a horror movie?" you asked casually. "You know, something fun, something we can watch while hanging out?"

There was a slight pause before he replied. And then it came.

"I guess I could do that...," he typed, and for the first time, there was something different in his words. It was as if he wasn’t just dry and indifferent anymore. He sounded... slightly interested.

It made your heart flutter. He’s cute, you thought to yourself, smiling as you typed.

You slipped into the kitchen, eyes scanning the food you had prepared earlier. You opened the containers, one after another, heart thudding in your chest. But it wasn’t touched. Not a single bite.

Your chest tightened as you checked another batch, and then another. The seals were intact. Nothing had been opened.

He’s not coming tonight.

You felt the realization hit you like a wave. The silence of the empty space was deafening, and you wanted to scream, to cry, to lash out at the crushing disappointment. But instead, you swallowed it all, letting the heaviness settle deep within.

Grabbing something quick to eat, you barely tasted it. The food turned to ash in your mouth as you moved to your room. The quiet was unbearable. You needed to do something—anything to distract yourself from the longing, the ache that refused to go away.

You sank to the floor, pulling your sketchbook and supplies toward you. The charcoal pencil felt familiar in your fingers, a lifeline. You began to draw, the lines forming without thought, your hands moving like a machine. Stroke after stroke, his face emerged on the paper. Sol.

His soft, yet piercing eyes. The way his lips held a hint of mystery, the curve of his jawline—strong but refined. Every detail you etched felt like worship, your devotion spilling onto the page. You poured yourself into the drawing, the room around you fading away until there was only him.

When it was done, a small, trembling smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You stared at the portrait, your sleepless eyes red and raw, but filled with an almost manic satisfaction.

Slowly, you hugged the portrait to your chest, clutching it as though it were him. The paper crinkled slightly under your grip, but you didn’t care. You kissed the charcoal lips on the drawing, your own trembling, tears sliding down your cheeks.

"Please... just be mine already," you whispered brokenly, your voice trembling with desperation. "I can’t wait anymore, Sol. I... I’ll do anything, just tell me what you want. Tell me, Please."

You stared into the lifeless eyes of the portrait, waiting for it to answer, to give you some sign. But of course, it was silent. You begged again, your tears smudging the edges of the drawing.

"Say something... please," you choked out.

But the portrait didn’t speak. It remained still, just like the real Sol—always so close, yet so far.

Curling around the paper, you let out a soft, pained sob. The ache in your heart felt unbearable, but you couldn’t stop. This obsession, this need—it had consumed you entirely. And no matter how much it hurt, you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to push yourself with work.

The laundry room was quiet, the steady hum of the machine and the rhythmic sloshing of water the only sounds accompanying your thoughts. You moved mechanically, pulling clothes from the hamper, sorting them into piles, trying to ignore the lingering haze of obsession that clouded your mind.

I can’t keep going like this... you thought to yourself, folding one of your shirts. I need to focus on normal things. Normal people do laundry. Normal people don’t... don’t...

Your train of thought derailed as your hands brushed the fabric of a familiar piece of clothing. You frowned slightly, realizing something was missing. The set wasn’t complete. You glanced at the piles, searching, your hands moving faster, more frantic. Something wasn’t right.

Quickly, you abandoned the laundry, heading to your cupboard to double-check. You rifled through your drawers, tossing clothes aside until you found what you were looking for—or rather, what you weren’t finding. One of your shirts—your favorite, the one you wore at home—was gone.

At first, you froze, confusion flashing through you. Then, slowly, your lips parted into a soft giggle. Your face flushed as the realization dawned on you.

Oh, Sol...

A hand flew to your mouth as a giddy, almost delirious laugh escaped your lips. Your knees buckled, and you sat down in front of the cupboard, staring at the empty space where that clothing should’ve been.

He took it again. He stole it. That adorable little thief... How cute.

Your blush deepened as you thought about it. He can’t help himself, can he? It’s unfair... You glanced toward your bed, where the collection of his things was hidden away. He gets to take my clothes, and I only have his bandages and a pencil. It’s not enough.

You hugged your knees, staring dreamily at the laundry pile. The fabric, the scent, the soft feeling—it all reminded you of him. You let out a small, love-struck sigh, the flush on your face deepening.

"Oh, Sol," you murmured to yourself, your voice barely above a whisper. "When will you realize you already have me entirely like this? And yet, you still sneak and steal like a kid... You’re so cute."

For a moment, the world outside of Sol ceased to exist. Crowe, the laundry, your day-to-day life—it all faded into nothingness. There was only Sol. Your heart raced as you stood, your movements purposeful now. You opened the cupboard and pulled out the box where you kept his things—your most precious treasures. The bandages, his pencil, a tiny doodle of his you’d swiped from class. All of it.

You sat on the ground and opened your journal. The familiar pages greeted you, filled with sketches, notes, little scraps of his life that you’d painstakingly collected. Each page was a testament to your obsession, your devotion.

But this journal was full now, the last page crammed with your thoughts about him. There was no more room to document the all-encompassing love you felt. You smiled softly, running your fingers over the cover before carefully placing it into the box with the rest of the treasures.

"Time for a fresh start," you whispered to yourself.

You pulled out a new journal, the pages pristine and blank, waiting to be filled. You grabbed a pen and carefully wrote "Sol" on the first page in your neatest handwriting.

"Yay!" you said aloud, a childlike excitement bubbling up as you hugged the new journal to your chest. You tucked the box away in the cupboard and stood, a sense of accomplishment warming you. This is perfect. It’s all for you, Sol.

The day’s events had left you feeling drained, but for the first time in what felt like months, it wasn’t a bad kind of exhaustion. It was the sort that pulled you to the ground with a soft, irresistible weight. You lay down, clutching the sketch of Sol you’d finished earlier, holding it close like a lifeline.

You stared at it for a moment, tracing the lines with your fingers. His eyes, his lips, his hair—it was all there, captured perfectly. You pressed a kiss to the paper, your eyes fluttering closed.

"I love you," you whispered to the drawing, your voice barely audible. "One day, it’ll be real..."

The tears that slipped down your cheeks weren’t sad this time. They were soft, almost sweet, as you hugged the drawing closer and allowed your exhaustion to take over.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you drifted into sleep, clutching Sol’s likeness to your chest. Your dreams were filled with him, his presence warm and consuming, just like always. But this time, there was a strange comfort in it. The kind that made you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

#the kid at the back vn #tkatb #tkatb sol #tkatb x reader #visual novel #solivan brugmansia #solvian x reader #sol x reader #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back x reader #tkatb crowe #tkatb vn #sol brugmansia #the kid at the back

134 notes · View notes

baocean · 14 hours ago

Text

starting over - rafe cameron [four]

smau! rafecameron x youtuber!reader

summary: you’ve moved back to the obx after 4 years of growing your career in california. your friendships stayed afloat during your time away, you can’t say the same about your relationship. but rafe hears your back in town, and it set on not letting you go this time.

masterlist | three | four | five |

rafecam: 👶🏼🐕‍🦺🍾🏎️

kelcee: So aesthetic king!

↳ ruthieslife: so sassy

sarahcam: awww the pic of the three of us 🥹🥹

tthorton: Loving this sign of life bro!

↳ kelcee: Gets left on read ONCE and immediately goes MIA

↳ rafecam: That’s enough thank you! 🤗

barryrusso: We get it u drive a Porsche and go to parties

↳ rafecam: Did you not see that I also hang out with dogs?

wheeziecameron: THE PIC OF US THATS SO CUTE

↳ wheeziecameron: I didn’t know you liked me 🥹

↳ rafecam: I don’t ❤️

sighing, you looked over at jj. he turned to look back at you, giving you a questioning glance.

“rafe.” that was all you had to say, he nodded knowingly.

“as your friend, i say give it some time. you just got here.” jj shrugged his shoulders and you smiled.

jj had been your friend for a few years now. he’d been the #1 person for boy advice for, like, 5 years.

“yea, you’re probably right. alright, i’ve got to go edit some videos.” you sat up from the bean back chair, placed in the corner of jj’s room.

“what videos did you film?” he asked you, standing up with you.

“a get ready with me, and i talked about weird things my family did growing up. and i did a baking video with cleo that i’ll probably put out tomorrow morning.”

“that sounds fun, can’t wait to watch them,” jj smiled at you, “whatever you end up doing with rafe, we’ll be there for you. it might hurt for a while, but you will be okay.”

“thanks j.” you pulled him into a hug, letting yourself relax into your friend.

you said your goodbyes, drove the ten minute distance back to your house. everyone was home, all five of your siblings and your parents.

you found talking about your childhood with your siblings so easy, that’s why you had made a video about them a few days ago.

it was loud in your house, just the way you liked it. ethan and mikey playing video games in the living room, willa was coloring at the table, humming her own little tune, liv and asa were off in the workout room, asa’s rap playlist blasting in the distance.

it was completely calming, in all its chaos. something comforting and familiar, exactly what you needed right now.

63 notes · View notes

azen13 · 22 hours ago

Note

[Not really sure if this counts as a request but here we go] Who’s your favourite male yandere(s) from genshin? And could you talk about why?

Ah I love this question! Thank you so much for asking. I've been really busy with college lately so I haven't gotten a chance to write recently, but after this week I should be finished with a lot of tests until finals. Just to clear things up, I absolutely accept questions like this! I feel like I haven't really shared a lot about myself as a person so I'm hoping to do more of that in the future.

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CW: Yandere Themes, Spoilers for Wriothesley's Story Quest

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I'd say I have four yanderes who I really like, and then a few who I like but I'm not obsessed with. Those four being Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Zhongli. Beyond the fact that I just like them as characters (and I'm gay asf lol) they're the most interesting yanderes to me, in part because of how much power they have in their societies.

Alhaitham is really interesting to me because there's this personal conflict between his values and beliefs and the idea of falling in an obsessive love. Alhaitham is inherently self-centered, not narcissistically so, but to the point where he prioritizes and values his time alone. In doing so though, he's also extremely lonely. I think a lot on how Alhaitham would react to someone who's able to match his sharpened blade of wit with one of their own, how he might exchange parries and blows with that person and find himself needing to understand the nature of their mind. I also think about how he'd react to someone who struggles with taking care of themself, or overworking: how he'd try to get you to stop doing so much and trying to please everyone. If his lover can keep up with his intelligence, he treats the romance like a game of chess, lining up his pieces to topple over the defenses surrounding your heart. His possession of you is slow and methodical, like vines growing on walls, slowly creeping over every inch. If his lover's wisdom is spent in other areas, then he's quick to snatch them up and take them home. While I think he's quick to get you under his control, it's harder for him to make them fall in love and surrender to his calculating embrace.

Neuvillette brings a really interesting element that I like to think about when I'm writing for him: immortality. He's a dragon who's lived for centuries, and that element of the slow passage of time is really fun to both write and think about. I really like to think of Neuvillette as a really, really soft yandere; he's seen humanity at its worst, and doesn't want you, the beautiful thing you are, to be tainted by all of its ugliness. Besides, he just can't help himself, what with his draconic instincts.

Out of the four, Wriothesley is the character I'd say I have the hardest time writing for because it's harder for me to explain why he feels the way he does. The working justification I have is that being betrayed by his adoptive family and living his whole life in Meropide made him incredibly lonely and developed a lot of abandonment issues that remained unearthed for years, as he didn't really make many close friends in Meropide. Then you come along though, and for once, Wriothesley has something good, something he doesn't want to give up. He's definitely one of the hardest yanderes to escape, what with Meropide being a literal prison. I think he definitely takes extra precautions when it comes to you, though, because he's so scared of losing them. Beneath his gruff exterior, there's a heart of gold, a man who only craves your complete affection and attention.

And then there's Zhongli, who was actually the character who got me into writing Yanderes. The thing about Zhongli is that as a yandere, you're practically powerless, unless you're on a similar or higher level of power/divinity to him. Even if you exceed his power, you're still going to have a very difficult time escaping his control. With how long he's lived and how much he's seen, he knows the only way to guarantee your safety is to isolate you from Teyvat entirely. Zhongli has no qualms about doing this, regardless of how much you might protest. Because when you've lost everything but Zhongli, you'll eventually—and inevitably—crumble into his arms. Only then will Zhongli put you back together, shaping you to be his perfect lover. Zhongli's greatest power as a yandere is his patience.

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saras-almanac · 3 days ago

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So I wrote this post the other day about my feelings on the handling of the BuckTommy breakup (which you can read here if you want). And @parrishjeanna reblogged with a link to an article from Tim. I wrote out a reply to it but it became so long I needed to put it in a separate post because it’s over 3k and I need to put it until a readmore.

Okay so I did read that article thank you @kawaiifacesong for linking the not generating revenue clicks because I don’t like reading any articles for 9-1-1 because it’s literally all buddies who can’t ask anything about the show. (Case in point, in this particular interview, the interviewer brings up “The Couch Theory” because Buck and Eddie sit on a couch.)

So this interview was trash for many reasons but I’ll narrow it down to three for the sake of this response: Biphobic nature of the breakup and aftermath, what’s being said in interviews isn’t what we’re seeing, and Tim writes as he goes so there’s no actual plan going forward.

First: The Biphobic Nature of this breakup is still moving full swing.

The idea that Buck is “still figuring himself out” and needs to explore is insulting in so many ways—especially to myself as a bisexual lady in my 30s. Firstly, being in my 30s, the idea that you need to figure yourself out still is absolute bullshit. Yes, you can still find new things out about yourself and make some changes, but usually by this point in your life, you have a pretty decent handle on who you are as a person. Which Buck does have… and we’ve seen that? So it has to be a reference to his newly discovered and realized sexuality.

Which, AGAIN is so biphobic and plays into incredibly harmful bisexual stereotypes that bisexuals need to “explore” to figure out what or who they want. This means either they need to fuck around and make sure they’re really bisexual. OR they need to get enough experience with their same gender to then be able to have a same-gendered relationship. Both of which are insulting and harmful. This idea that Tommy couldn’t possibly be a lasting relationship because Buck just came out as bisexual is wrong. It’s fine if they didn’t want Tommy to be a long-term love interest or even an end-game love interest, but why couldn’t they have done it differently, to hopefully not play into these harmful stereotypes that are still incredibly prevalent today.

Now do I think they fully intended it to play out as biphobic as it is? Not really, but I do think that the heart of what they wanted—Buck exploring his sexuality—is inherently biphobic because of the way they have chosen to go about it. There’s a world of difference between having Tommy break up with Buck so Buck can go exploring and having OS and TM saying similar things in interviews and Tommy and Buck breaking up and Buck getting back out there and dating around. Which if they had given it just a smidge of thought, I have to hope they would have come to that same conclusion and maybe gone about it in a different way.

Second: What Tim’s saying in interviews about what’s happening on the show and in these storylines doesn’t match up to what we’re seeing

I’m going to paste the few paragraphs related to BuckTommy break up here, just to read. I have bolded what I thought was important and what I’m going to talk about after it.

“Look, I think the breakup was premature, but that was by design. For me, the story that I was trying to tell was here’s a guy, Tommy. He’s not a main character on the show. We haven’t done ‘Tommy Begins’ or something. But you do see him in the ‘Begins’ episodes, in flashbacks, and by the time he leaves in ‘Bobby Begins Again,’ he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s feeling more comfortable. He’s hanging out with the new people at the 118 once Bobby takes over, and they throw him a party and bake him a cake when he goes off to his new post. There was even a reference in Broken when Chimney calls him to do the water drop,” Minear explained. “But Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is. And I think what Tommy realizes is exactly what he said, which is, ‘I’m not your last. I’m your first.'” Minear referenced the coffee shop scene in Season 7, where Buck asked Tommy to give them another shot and come to his sister’s wedding, as a point when Tommy thought, “Alright, this guy’s kind of great. He’s super hot and he’s sweet. And this will be nice. And I’m going to be vulnerable for this.” As the relationship grew stronger and the stakes grew higher, however, Tommy reevaluated things. “I think Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out. And even if Tommy doesn’t know it, he might sense the fact that Buck likes to jump in with both feet a little bit precipitously,” Minear mused. “So was the breakup premature? Yes. Because Tommy was put in a position where he had to be honest. And once he speaks the truth, which is, ‘I think I know where this ends, and I can’t move in with you,’ he’s kind of breaking the spell — the spell of that honeymoon. Tommy even says, ‘I didn’t see this coming either.’ I don’t think either one of them did.”

Okay, lots of things happening in this quote but ultimately there’s a massive disconnect in what TM thinks is happening or what he’s saying is happening and what is actually on screen—and that’s a huge problem. You can’t rely on interviews to explain things, it needs to be in the actual text of the episode.

I think the real crux of the issue is this: “Tommy’s a guy who’s in a different place in his life than Buck is… Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever… he’s kind of breaking the spell—the spell of that honeymoon.”

Let’s break this down a bit. Tommy being in a different place in his life than Buck… How? Buck has, since the pilot episode, been looking and searching for a stable romantic relationship—he’s always craved that and wanted that. Even in the breakup, he was thinking about their future and marriage and moving in with Tommy. Is that not what the next logical step of a relationship might be? So doesn’t that—regardless of whether it was premature or not—prove that Buck and Tommy are in the same place of clearly wanting a long-term, committed relationship? So if this wasn’t the case, why didn’t you show that? Show them having that disconnect or make it clear that Tommy’s dropping hints about their future and Buck is not in the same place so he’s not picking up on them at all. Because what we saw was Buck wanting and seeing a future with Tommy and Tommy basically telling him that the doesn’t actually.

“Tommy, in the end, understood that this was not forever — that Buck is exploring himself. He’s still figuring himself out.” This is my villain origin point—for real. Because this is also not what we saw! What we saw, was a Buck who was so secure in himself and his relationship, arguably for the first time on this show, that he didn’t panic or second-guess anything really. He was all-in with Tommy and enjoying himself and being with Tommy. He even said that being with Tommy makes him more comfortable with himself—aka what a lot of couples say when they’re in committed and reciprocal, healthy romantic relationships—that being with you makes me happy being me. (Paraphrasing here, but hopefully my point gets across.)

Because what is there for Buck to figure out yet? He knows he’s bisexual and incredibly into Tommy. He’s happy and content with his work life and seems pretty happy with where he’s living. His relationships with his friends and family are all as good as they usually are. So what is there for Buck to still figure out? I’m left to assume that this is again only about his sexuality, which just keeps adding more to the pile of shit that makes me feel crappy and uncomfortable with this storyline.

Also, why couldn’t Buck and Tommy last? Why is that assumed to be the correct conclusion to come to? How many high school sweethearts get together and last? How many people who don’t date until they’re in their 20s-30s find someone right away and stay together? How many people come out as queer later in life because they have found someone they click with and it just makes them see more of themselves and they stay together? Sure, this is not the case with every single person in these situations, but it’s not unheard of. To me, this just feels like the show and Tim are acting like Buck is a young, 20-year-old child and now a grown man in his 30s…

What we actually saw on our screens, was two people who genuinely seemed to enjoy each other and spending time together. That had an easy and sweet relationship, where they both felt settled and comfortable together. It’s why the weird change in 806 felt so abrupt—what do you mean these two people who had amazing communication up until that point, have not talked about their past relationships at all? I think that was done as a shortcut for the writers and TM to say, “Look, see, they’re not compatible, they can’t last because they’re not talking about anything serious.” But again, my point is: then you should have showed us that beforehand, given some foreshadow or lead up to it. Instead, they chose to blindside the audience for the “shock value” and it didn’t work. Shock value for shock value’s sake never works for the audience. They don’t want the rug to be pulled out from under them, they want to see you building something and only after it’s built can they see what you were doing the whole time.

Now, I understand that they just wanted to break them up for “story” reasons (which I have no faith is going to be anything good). While I personally hate that because I feel like there would have been much more storylines and things for Buck to be involved in and it would have opened up a lot more potential stories for the future, I get that it’s not my decision to make. But why couldn’t they actually make this make sense in the actual context of what we’d seen already? If you wanted to break them up because they’re in different places, then having Buck ask Tommy to move in could have caused more of an argument of Tommy saying that Buck doesn’t really see him and doesn’t seem to understand that Tommy has a whole life outside of Buck. O Tommy could have been the one to propose moving in together and Buck freaks out because it’s too soon—which leaves Tommy to come to the conclusion that they want different things right now and he can’t just sit around and hoping Buck will catch up because it would be too hard for him to let go of Buck later. Or have Tommy literally going to a different place—whether temporarily or permanently—and so they have to break up because Buck has a whole life here and Tommy wasn’t about to ask Buck to uproot himself for Tommy…

There’s so many other ways this breakup could have gone instead of the route they went—and they would have made much more sense contextually. Instead, they went this cheapest way possible and have Buck now acting like a child about calling Tommy, when in reality and with the growth we’d seen of Buck in the past 8 years, he would have reached out to Tommy already. At least to talk things through. The baking thing was cute for an episode and it would have been okay for longer, but I’m just sitting here wondering exactly why Buck can’t call Tommy… If it’s because he’s hurt, then they needed to say that because right now, it just seems like Buck is literally being forced to not call him but the audience isn’t really sure why.

All this brings me to my biggest point. Third: I don’t trust anything that’s being said in interviews or by TM because he doesn’t write in advance and that’s a major problem

Before we get into it let me make a disclaimer: I’m gonna need every single network and studio to start requiring all the white men who write for them to actually be getting them scripts. We cannot rely on their “genius” to make sense because these scripts—especially season 8—should have had a few more passes before what we’ve seen. The only episode so far that actually felt like a complete episode was the Halloween episode.

And if this season has taught us anything, it’s that Tim not having any real plans or anything written is actually a massive problem for this show.

Now me not believing TM is not me saying that I 100% believe Tommy is coming back (though I feel like the chances are higher now with the reaction from the GA for ABC to suggest some things or at least give a closure beat to this character and relationship) This is more, nothing that TM has said in interviews up until this point for season 8 has really actually happened on screen except for Eddie shaving his moustache… Granted, I don’t read every single article with him so I might have missed something, but I just feel like he’s got no interest in setting anything up and actually paying it off in any real way.

So many people were so excited for season 8 because it was the first season in years where we actually knew so many storylines going into 8—that weren’t told to us in interviews; they were introduced in the actual show! We had Bobby/Athena’s house hunting, HenRen fighting Ortiz and trying to get Mara back, Madney fostering Mara in HenRen’s place, Eddie dealing with Christopher leaving, and Gerrard back at the 118. Any one of those storylines would have been so amazing to really see explored and fleshed out. Instead, everything was basically settled and done by episode 4—apart from Christopher and Eddie resolution and Bobby/Athena actually moving in / building. To me, as a writer myself, that decision to rush though those other stories was a massive massive misstep. There was so much there to explore and delve into that could have been so satisfying to watch and really reap the emotional payoff.

Instead, we had like 2-4 minutes max of processing HenRen not being able to see Mara again before they were all reunited. Not that I wanted to see HenRen struggling again in this way, but it would have been different and they could have put some humor into it with Karen suggesting they tail Ortiz and try to find things out about her—or Hen comes back from a shift to find Karen has stayed up for 38 hours tracking every single facebook post from Ortiz and her family to try and find something they could use and she’s the one who uncovered the link between Ortiz and Gerrard, which then promts Hen to ask Buck as Gerrard’s specialist boy to ask for a favor or try to convince Gerrard to help them deal with Ortiz.

And Maddie and Chimney having Mara would have been so interesting to see them actually having conversations about what they want for their family going forward—do they want more kids, do they not? Are they wanting to try naturally or adoption? And then Mara being with Chimeny could have also added another layer of tension between Hen and Chimney with Hen being jealous that Chimney is raising her daughter.

I mean Eddie… the fact that it took 8 episodes (basically) for him to actually acknowledge that he needs to do something to be a part of his son’s life is a major problem as well. It makes me not want to root for Eddie to reconcile with Chris because he has shown hardly any initiative in actually confronting what he did and the actual reason why Chris is so upset and feels betrayed. There was a little in 6, but that’s sort of it.

Bobby and Athena, they just don’t seem to know what to do with them anymore. And that’s a shame because there are so many things they could do—namely my favorite thing which is give them more comedy to do! They are so funny together (cruise ship is one of my favorite things). Or they could have had the first few episodes be them sort of couch surfing through the firefam and be a fun little runner of “we really need to figure out what we’re doing.” Even their storyline of their house burning just doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore.

Buck, it would have been so amazing to see him dealing with the work stuff more and having Tommy to lean on, to see Buck who’s been pretty secure in his work for the past few seasons now dealing with Bobby being gone and Gerrard there, just really gets him thinking about the future. Or even the comment about budget cuts, why was that never brought up again? That would have been so interesting to lead up to the midseason finale, which of the 118 is going to get laid off? And Buck being in such a secure spot maybe he volunteers because he wants to explore something outside of firefighting and/or because everyone else has kids and a family and he knows it’s easier for him to not have a job? And then he’s saying his goodbyes and the midseason act out is Bobby announcing that Eddie is going to be leaving them instead.

Instead of really exploring any of that, it’s all been rushed through to move on to the next thing, but the honest truth is: I don’t trust what TM’s great next thing is because he absolutely squandered all the potential he had going into season 8. So all these “amazing things” he has going forward I just don’t trust they’re going to happen or even be slightly interesting. Instead, I assume they’re going to be something that’s like an episode opening and then never mentioned again if they do happen.

I just don’t understand what is going on in his head other than ego right now and I’m just… I deal with too many egos in my life to deal with another one like this.

#didn't expect this to end up as long as it is but i guess i had a lot to say and honestly still have a lot to say but mentally need a break #but this has just made me want to get back into actually writing and maybe writing my own version of season 8 #one day I'll move on but it took me months to get over magicians and this is bringing those feelings back a bit #bucktommy #911 critical #911 season 8

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kooksvspogues · 2 days ago

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Happy 1st Birthday Lilian!! 🥳

Part 3 -

Authors note: I am so touched at the love and support I have gotten from every single one of you. Hope you enjoy part 3 just as much, thank you for being here! ❤️ and don’t forget that every bit of feedback is greatly appreciated!

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“Okay okay, put it back, let it do it’s magic” she laughed grabbing the bottle from me as I give her a look. “Nope, I don’t like that look, I know what it means. Like I said earlier, just keep an open mind about it, okay?” She whispered

“Yeah, totally” I answer back before she smiles and pulls me towards the patio. I look around trying to find Liliana only to find her still in Drew’s arms, “can I have her?” I walk over to him sitting at the table.

“Yeah..” he starts, handing her over to me, “you look great, by the way” he whispers to me when I lean down to grab her

“Thanks, you too.” I say, immediately feeling myself cringe on the inside as I stand back up straight.

“You ready?” Mack asks walking up to me with Lil’s floaty.

“Lils, you ready to go swiiiim?” I say to her tapping her chest with my pointer finger making her smile and kick her legs around, “well I’ll take that as a yes” I laugh following Mack down the steps of the pool, feeling chill bumps go all over my body as soon as my feet touch the cool water.

Once my body starts to adjust to the cool water, I go in more and slowly let Lil’s feet go in the water, bringing them up quickly allowing her to adjust too, a little at a time until she was completely good. I sat her in her floaty and pushed her around talking to Mack.

“Y’all want a drink?” Logan hollers to us

“Yeah, hand me two of those wine coolers” Mack tells him, “I’ve been wanting you to try one of these” she tells me as she goes over the side to wait on Logan to bring them to her.

I grab one of Liliana’s pool toys and hand it to her, keeping my focus on her completely. Who wouldn’t? She’s adorable. But when I glance up to grab the wine cooler out of Mack’s hands, I see two sets of blue eyes on me.

“Don’t ever grow up Liliana” I whisper to her in a silly voice causing her to smile up at me. I glance back up for a second, catching the one set of eyes still looking at me, Drew. Manspreading, leaned back, both of his hands interlocked against the back of his head, watching me, slowly starting to smirk at me once he realizes I’m staring too, but water being splashed on me quickly grabs my attention, I look over to see Logan underwater swimming up next to me

“Y’all stop being boring and get in!” Mack yells at the boys still up on the deck.

“That any good?” Logan asked splashing me again

“Huh? What do you mean?” I ask

“The drink?” He asked looking at me confused

“Oh um…” I say looking down, realizing I haven’t even opened it. I pull the tab quickly and take a sip, “it’s alright, wanna try?” I answer quickly as he just laughs.

“Mhmm” he chuckles taking the cab from me

“What?” I ask quickly

“Nothing at all Mads” he smiled making me look at him confused.

“Stop being weird” I said pushing him lightly

“Who’s being weird?” Austin asks walking up to us, smiling at me.

“Logan, per usual” I laugh as Mack and Chase both join us.

“You love it” Logan says as I reach up and pat his cheek

“So much” I say giving him a sarcastic smile as he rolls his eyes.

“Drew, bring your ass!” Logan yells as we all glance up at him still sitting in the chair. He looks unsure at first but I quickly give him a small smile and he quickly gets up, walking towards the steps to get in before walking over towards us.

“Anybody want to play a game?” Austin asks

“Like what?” Chase asks

“Uhh, Mack, don’t you have that inflatable beer pong table?” He asks

“Ooo yeah, it’s in the closet, let me go get it, Maddie, come help with the drinks” she says grabbing my hand dragging me towards the steps before drying ourselves off and heading inside to find the beer pong table.

“What are we putting in the solo cups?” I ask her

“Vodka?” She asks and I start laughing

“Really? Vodka?” I laugh

“I think it’ll be fine” she smiled

“Me and vodka don’t mix, you know that” I tell her crossing my arms

“Then you better hope nobody makes it in your cup” she smiled at me as she pulled out the box with the table in it, “got it, gonna take this to the boys, be right back to help with the drinks.” I walked into the kitchen to find the solo cups and the bottle of vodka.

“Need any help?” Austin smiled coming around the corner

“I might could use your help with carrying everything out” I smiled

“I can do that, Mack is trying to find the air pump, so she asked me to come help” he said

“Of course she did” I chuckled shaking my head slightly

“So uh, how’d you and Mack meet?” He asked

“College, freshman year, we were 2 dorms down from each other and ended up becoming good friends and after first semester, we were roommates till we graduated” I explained

“She’s pretty awesome” he says

“The best” I agree

“You from here or?” He asked

“Born and raised, what about you?” I ask looking up at him

“Ohio actually” he smiled

“I’ve never met anybody from Ohio before” I chuckle

“Well now ya have” he smiled, “and what an honor it is to be your first” he said before scrunching his nose and eyes, his cheeks going tomato red “that sounded a lot better in my head”

“You’re good, it happens” I laugh, “but I do think we should just take the cups and vodka out fill them up outside instead of in here” I point out

“I agree, here, I’ll take it” he said reaching over to grab the cups and bottle. “Whose idea was vodka?” He raised an eyebrow as I cocked my head up at him, raising my eyebrows. “Nevermind” he said making me laugh as I lead the way out towards the back, closing the door behind him.

They have the beer pong table aired up and waiting in the water for the cups. I hop in the water before reaching up for Austin to hand me the cups before sliding into the water after me. I walk over to the table where Drew is, holding it still for me as I start putting cups in the slot.

“Thanks for holding it” I smile at him

“Oh it’s no big deal” he smiled at me as I finished up putting the cups in, turning to look for Austin, reaching out for the bottle as he quickly handed it over. I turn back around and start filling up the cups.

“Who’s on what team?” Mack asks

“I’ll take Maddie” Austin says and I immediately notice Drew’s shoulders drop.

“I’m really not that good, you sure you don’t want somebody else?” I ask Austin

“I can teach you a few tricks if I need to” he smiles sweetly down at me

“Um yea.. okay” I said smiling back at him slightly

“Drew, me and you against Maddie and Austin?” Logan asks

“Yea. Sure bro” Drew says looking me in my eyes before turning to walk to the other side of the table.

“Your going down Mads” Logan says

“In your dreams Logan” I tease back

“Like I said earlier, done and done” he winked and I faked gagging making all the boys laugh, “yeah, you did that in the dream too” Logan laughed

“Oh my God, stop!” I yell laughing covering my eyes making the boys laugh harder, “somebody throw” I laugh pointing at Drew and Logan

“What we doing? We land, whoever want to, drinks, or do y’all want to have a chosen person for each person?” Logan asks

“If I land it, Mads drinks mine” Drew says looking at me very intently

“Right back at ya Starkey” I sass as he raises an eyebrow at me before smirking

“You’re on” he says before getting situated before throwing his ping pong ball and of course making it into one.

“Get to drinking” he winked as I rolled my eyes as I waited on Logan to throw his, him making it into a cup to. Both, me and Austin rolling our eyes laughing, pulling the ball out of each cup and bringing the cup to our lips and downing it quickly. We both shake our heads as the burning feeling goes down our throat before getting ready to take our shots. Austin went first, making it into the front cup as I give him a high five.

“You wanna try first or want a little help?” Austin asked placing his hand at the base of my back, immediately making me more nervous.

“Let me try” I smile up at him and try to get myself in the right position and that’s when I feel Drew’s eyes on me too. I glance up to meet his eyes and raise my eyebrows, making him do it right back before smirking too.

“You nervous Mads?” Drew asked

“Shut up” I say laughing

“You got it Maddie!” Mack yells from the side of the pool with Liliana so I just go for it and take a shot. Which lands right between 2 cups making me groan and throw my head back.

“It’s okay! We’ll get em next time” Austin says wrapping an arm around me and patting my waist lightly as I wrapped an arm around his waist as we watch Logan chug his drink before it’s their turn to throw again.

Logan throws first and misses putting his hands on the top of his head watching as Drew throws his ball…. Right into their third cup. My eyes rolling immediately before grabbing the cup and pulling the ball out before drinking the contents.

Austin steps away to grab his ball and make a toss and smoothly lands into a cup. “You got this, just breathe” he whispers to me as I smile up at him stepping up to the middle of the board, taking a deep breath before making a toss that ended up in our third cup.

“Hell yeah! Drink Starkey’s” I yell before laughing as we happily watch them drink.

Eventually we’re both down to our last cup, all of us feeling the alcohol and adrenaline of beating each other. “Person that has gotten most cups from each team goes for the last cup?” Logan offers

“Yeah, Maddie, go” Austin says pushing me forward as Drew steps up to the other side, “you get two tries.”

“Burgers are ready!” Garrett yells

“2 minutes!” Mack yells back as she’s watching us intensely.

“You go” I tell Drew

“Ladies first” he says

“That’s why I told you to go” I sass and he cocks his head smirking at me as everyone else is saying “ooooo”and “daaaaang” as Drew starts to nod before getting ready to take his shot. First shot… missed… he grabbed the second ball and kissed it quickly before getting ready to take his throw and when he does, the ball hits the rim of the cup and bounces off onto the table making me jump up.

“You’ll do great, you got this” Austin says grabbing both of my shoulders from behind shaking me slightly making me laugh before I get ready to take my first shot. Missed. I grab the second ball and toss it, going straight into the last cup.

“OHHHHH!” Austin yells picking me up as we both raise an arm in victory before he puts me back down, Drew watching me closely as I step closer to him grabbing the final cup and lifting it up to him.

“Drink up Starkey” I wink as he smirks, keeping eye contact with me as he pulls the ball out of the cup and downs the liquid.

“Good game beautiful” he winks before walking towards the side of the pool pulling himself up and out of the pool as we all follow behind him to go get a burger.

Since there wasn’t enough room for everyone to take a seat, Mack went and sat in Garrett’s lap since he already made her burger while the rest of us got in line to make our own. Austin and Drew were on the short bench while Logan and a chase got the other two chairs available.

“Here, come sit with us” Austin said standing up and scooting over to give me enough room between him and Drew. I smile and step over the seat and take a seat, crossing my legs as Austin sat back down giving me a smile before taking a bite.

After eating, we all just sat around, joking and laughing. Truly allowing the full buzz to take effect. At some point while we were all joking, Austin’s hand found his way right above my knee and has been there since, caressing his thumb against my skin while the set of eyes on the other side of me was shooting daggers into his hand and burning a hole through me every time we caught each others eyes.

As it got darker, Mack asked me if I wanted to help with Liliana’s bath and getting her to go to sleep, which I happily jumped up to help.

Sitting between two very attractive men, one side of you feeling like a knife couldn’t even touch the tension while the other side was so carefree felt really weird so any excuse to get away from that, I was gonna take it.

“Well Austin seems to be enjoying you” Mack says as we walked into the bathroom.

“Yeah he’s nice” I state

“Nice? What’s ‘nice’ mean?” She asked looking at me

“That he’s nice?” I say raising an eyebrow

“Like he’s nice as in you’ll give him a shot or he’s nice but no?” She asked turning the water on for the bath

“Nice and I’m okay with him being a friend” I explain

“Who was this guy?” She asked as she pulled off Lil’s swimsuit and placed her into her tub in the tub.

“What guy?” I ask

“The guy that has had you so hung up forever about him, it feels like” she says

“It’s really not important Mack” I tell her

“Well I think it is, cause because of whoever this guy was, you haven’t been able to get past him and we’re not getting any younger” she tells me

“I know” I say looking down, wishing I could tell her.

“You know we’ve told each other everything, what is so different about this?” She asks

“It just is Mack, I’ll get over eventually, maybe that will be with Austin, maybe it’ll be in months or maybe even years, but I’ll figure it out” I tell her

“Why can’t you figure it out with that guy?” She asks as she rinses Lilian off

“It’s complicated” I say

“You’re complicated” she laughed

“Trust me, I know” I laughed

“Well, just so you know for the millionth time, I’m always here, no judgment, about anything and everything” she smiles

“Yea, I know” I smile back just as Liliana yawns real big and starts to cry

“I know you’re tired, I’m almost done baby” Mack talks to her rinsing the soap off of her bow before letting the water out.

“You want to try putting her down?” Mack asks me

“I’d love too” I smile widely

“Awesome, she has pjs, diaper, and lotion on her changing table, I’ll go and get a bottle ready for her” Mack says as she hands Liliana over to me before taking her to her room.

I go over to her changing table and dry her off, brush her hair, put on a diaper, then lotion, then her onesie. As she kept on wiping her eyes and yawning, I grabbed a book off of her shelf and went and sat in the rocker chair. I started to read to her, her eyes slowly starting to give in to the rest she so desperately wanted, but was woken up once Mack walked back in with her bottle, her hand’s immediately reaching out for it.

“You’re so good with her” Mack smiled down at me

“She’s just a great baby” I say

“I’m so ready for you to be a momma” she pouts at me

“Go back outside” I laugh pointing at the door as she rolls her eyes before walking out to the door, dimming the light on her way out.

Not too long after, Liliana was out, sleeping like the adorable baby she is. I slowly stood up and rocked her in my arms slowly while I walked over to her bed, slowly putting her down onto the mattress. I walk out of her room and slowly close the door, when I turn around, I’m face to face with Drew.

“Hey” I whisper putting my finger over my mouth, telling him to be quiet as he nods. I start to head to the stairs but that plan is changed when I feel his hand grab my wrist and pull me towards the guest room that I am staying in.

“What are you doing? Let go!” I whisper yell at him as he closes the door and turns to look at me

“What are you doing? Austin? Really?” He asks throwing his hand up

“What are you talking about?” I ask

“Are you trying to make me jealous or something?” He asks and I laugh

“Really? No, there is no part of me that is trying to make you jealous, what is so wrong with Austin?” I ask

“Because it’s Austin and it’s you” he says stepping closer to me

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask

“He doesn’t deserve you” he says

“There’s nothing going on between us Drew” I point out

“His hands are on you every chance they get, he obviously thinks there is something” Drew says, “you know what, if you can stand there and tell me that there is nothing towards me, at all, then I’ll leave it alone”

“Drew..” I say as I watch him step closer to me, putting one of his hands on my waist while the other is placed on my jaw, my hand landing on his bicep, while our eyes stay locked.

“Just tell me, tell me you don’t feel anything right now” he says leaning in closer, our nose’s touching. “And I’ll leave it alone” he says leaning in even closer to where our lips are touching lightly, both of our eyes shut.

“Drew we can’t do this” I tell him

“Tell me you don’t feel anything” he says, feeling every word off his lips against mine, just before pressing his lips against mine, now to kiss me. His lips felt so soft and right against mine, I couldn’t help but kiss him back, that is, until I hear Mack’s voice in the back of my head.

“We can’t do this” I push myself away from him quickly, “we made a deal, stick to it” I say turning to walk out of the room and rushing downstairs.

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Tag list: @percysley @dilfs-4life

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