#thanks to the ones who kept on waiting for it
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wingman paul- c.leclerc
summary: charles leclerc takes a liking to you at your brothers movie premiere... paul makes it happen!
pairing: charles leclerc x fem! mescal! reader
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Did you want to go to the Gladiator 2 premiere? No, not really. Was Paul forcing you to anyways? Yes, very much so.Â
Being his sister (and emotional support person), he always brought you on set, to premieres, and anywhere else. That was usually fine. The rest of his projects' premieres had either been in the Lighthouse (your favourite cinema in Dublin), or small enough that you wouldnât get too overwhelmed. You were famous in your own right, following after your sister and writing music. You didnât go on stage, but youâd garnered over 10 million listeners, and your album had just been nominated for a grammy, though you had no intention of going. Itâs not that you were scared or shy, you were just entirely uninterested in going out in public as a âpublic figureâ. It stressed you out, having people know who you are in such detail, so you just kept to yourself. You had no public social media accounts, you didnât allow your label to post about you unless it was about the music, and you only let Paul or Nell drag you out in public for one of their events. You liked it that way, it was comfortable.Â
âIâm going to go say hi to some people, you just wait here, yeah?â Paul explained as you two entered the theatre. It was huge, and every celebrity or influencer in the world mustâve been there. You nodded as he walked off and allowed yourself to fade into the background, people-watching as time passed. You noticed the beautiful architecture of the building, the way the celebrities around you mingled, the way-
âHello.â
You whipped your head around, startled, only to be met with a face you knew quite well. âJesus, Charles, you scared me,â you chuckled. He blushed slightly as you turned around properly to greet him. âHi.â
âHow are you?â he asked, joining you in your secluded corner.Â
âIâm fine, thank you. How are you?âÂ
âI am very good,â he smiled, showing off his dimples. âI thought you didnât like events.â
âI donât, Paul just asked me to come,â you explained. âMy mam wouldâve killed me if I didnât go, so here I am.âÂ
He nodded, understanding. âI tried to find you online, but⌠you are not a fan of that either?â
You chuckled. âNo, not really. Sorry.âÂ
He shook his head. âNo, it is ok. I just⌠wanted to talk more. You are very interesting to me,â he smiled.Â
âWell, thank you for the glowing review,â you chuckled. âAre you enjoying the evening so far?â
âI am enjoying it a lot more with you here,â he smiled. âBut yes, I only watched the first one a few days ago and I thought it was very good, so I am excited to see how this one compares.â
âYouâre sure a charmer,â you chuckled. âI hope you enjoy the film. Where are you sitting?â
âBeside Carlos?â he shrugged, an awkward smile on his face. âCarlos knows, but I donât know where Carlos is.â
You laughed. âAre you always this disorganised?â
âOnly when Iâm nervous,â he winked at you and the lights started going down, you just offered him to sit next to you, hoping that Nell wouldnât mind.Â
You two sat together, enjoying the movie as the night went on, and after you found yourselves at the bar, still chatting. He walked off to find Carlos at one point, looking back with a smile as he waved, promising to come back soon.Â
âWhen are you going to realise heâs trying to flirt with you?â Paul laughed. Your face was bright red and your jaw dropped.Â
You gently (roughly) hit his chest and scoffed. âShut the fuck up. He is not.âÂ
Paul laughed. âHeâs totally into you! Come on, go out with him, please! I want free tickets to Grand Prixs!âÂ
You rolled your eyes as he giggled, and then startled when you bumped straight back into Charles. âFuck, sorry-â you started apologising but he just shook his head.Â
âAll good,â he smiled.Â
Paul silently slipped away with a wink, and you were faced with Charles, once again.Â
âHi,â you breathed out.Â
âHi,â he chuckled, his dimples on full show. âHe was right, you know.âÂ
âAbout what?â you questioned.Â
âI am flirting with you-or, at least trying to,â he blushed slightly.Â
âOh,â you nodded, unsure what to do in a situation where someone was as brazen and blunt. âRight.â
He laughed. âCan I take you out sometime?â
You stared at him, total deer in headlights, then nodded. âYeah, yeah, sounds grand. Thank you.â
You internally smacked yourself in the face for that. But he just laughed, unfazed by your awkward demeanour.Â
âGreat!â he smiled bashfully. âWhen are you free?â
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#f1 social media au#formula one#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula racing#ferrari#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x female oc#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot
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Sevika is on the council now, GO.
Council member Sevika
thank you for this ask ive been WAITING for this !!! i love council member sevika (the only council member with a lip piercing)
masterlist (comment to be on my taglist)
You fought in that war with Sevika. You had her back, and she had yours.
At the end of that day, you went home together, injured, and exhausted.
The war had ended, but at the cost of so many losses. Peace was finally in sight.
Until enforcers knocked at your door. Sevika snapped at them, telling them to "Fuck off." But they had to be here for a good reason, right? Right.
Sevika was an important figure to Zaun. People believed in her. She is loyal to all Zaunites. that's a trait not many people have. So, of course, the council wanted her. The enforcers were there to deliver that important message
She growled at them, telling them to leave. You knew she needed time to think, even though in the back of your mind, you already knew what her decision was.
You waited an hour or so for her in bed, hearing her grunts of frustration and her pacing around the living room.
It pained you to not go comfort her but you knew this was a decision she needed to make on her own.
Sevika entered the room with a determined expression. She kneeled at your bedside and put a larger hand on yours.
"I know this is going to be a change, and you might be upset butâ"
"Im so proud of you, Sevika." Your eyes glimmered with hope.
Her brows furrow at your words, and you reach up to rub the crease from her expression. "You've made it so far. You're going to do so well." She is the voice of Zaun and speaks for you all.
You know there couldn't be a better person for that position. With Sevikas loyalty, she would never make a move to put the undercity in jeopardy.
Her eyes soften at your encouragement. It's all so new to her. She knew it was going to be a hard start, but not as hard knowing you had her back. You would always be there with open arms at the end of the day.
At that thought, you hold her warm face between your hands, and she closes her eyes at your touch. She's exhausted but still relents. That's one of the things you admired about her.
That night, you held her head to your chest, comfortingly. She deserved no less. Your fingers raked through her hair gently. Her heavy arm was draped over your waist softly, and your sweet voice lulled her to sleep. There was a long day ahead of her.
In the morning, she was more affectionate than usual, kissing your forehead before she got dressed. (And then again after). Laying her head on your shoulder as you finished up your breakfast. Hugging you from behind tightly while you brushed your teeth.
She was nervous, and this was the first time you saw her this way. Albeit not the last. But it was weird seeing Sevika, who was oh-so-big-and-strong get worked up over this.
People eyed you both on your walk there. She didn't make eyecontact with anybody and stared straight ahead with a firm look. Unlike her, you waved and smiled at some curious people, holding onto Sevikas arm.
When you got to the most important building in Piltover, she insisted that you walk her into the council meeting room. At first, you refused, but at her defeated and almost scattered look, you relented.
Even though you knew it would be hard to see with the topsiders, you knew it was for the best. The council members eyed you as you stood in the doorway with Sevika. You gave her an encouraging look, and she put a hand on your shoulder, lovingly, before stepping past you.
Taking a step back, the doors shut, and you waited for her on the other side.
Sevika was a part of the worlds new beginnings. Even though she held an important role amongst the people, she could argue that your role was more important.
You kept her sane through it all.
i absofreakinglutey love council member sevika in all her 5 second screentime glory !! and i will definitely be writing for her so look out for that in the future..
#arcane#sevika#sevika x reader#lesbian#sevika arcane#arcane sevika#sevika arcane x reader#wlw#arcane netflix#arcane act 3#arcane season 2 act 3
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just this once // ln4
still overwhelmed, still can't believe this this is getting to much attention đ â¤ď¸đŤś THANK YOU FOR YOUR FEEDBACK AND YOUR RESPONSES I LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT
also why are my WORDS LIMITED???? I want to write MORE wtf tumblr
word count:Â 3.7k with some extras in the form of social media posts warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes:Â friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary:Â after things cooled down for a little while, you have to face lando and your feelings once again... this time with consequences.
tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop
PART FOUR/2 previous part - next part
The sun dips low over the sky, painting it in shades of amber and rose as you finish getting ready. Youâve been pacing your hotel room for the last twenty minutes, debating whether you should even go to this dinner. Max made it sound casual, just friends and some of Landoâs crew, but the way your stomach twists tells you itâs anything but simple.
Since Monaco, things with Lando have been... complicated. He stayed over after Qualifying, the two of you wrapped in an unspoken agreement to keep things platonic. But nothing about the way he looked at you, the way his presence filled your space, felt friendly. Then there was the raceâhis P4 finishâand the small get-together afterward, where you both acted like nothing had happened. Since then, his scheduleâs relentless pace kept you apart, exchanging only a few texts that danced around anything real. Just keeping in touch.
And now, this dinner.
You change into your favorite outfit, something understated but flattering, and force yourself to take a deep breath. Itâs just a dinner. Youâre friends, you tell yourself.
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The restaurant hums with life as you step inside, trailing Max and Pietra. Warm light glints off polished wood and delicate glassware, and the buzz of conversation wraps around you like a soft blanket. You glance at the private room Max mentioned earlier, feeling your pulse quicken. You know whoâs waiting there.
When you walk in, the first person you see is him. Heâs tipped back in his chair at the head of the table, laughing at something someone said, his grin so easy and familiar it makes your chest ache. Then his eyes land on you, and for a moment, everything else in the room seems to blur.
âAbout time,â he says, standing up in one smooth motion. His voice is light, teasing, but thereâs something in his gaze that sends a spark down your spine. He greets Max with an effortless handshake-hug, Pietra with a peck on the cheek, and then his attention falls to you.
âStranger,â he says. âLando,â you reply, keeping your voice even as you raise an eyebrow. His grin tilts, just a little lopsided, and the look in his eyes feels like a challenge.
The dinner is exactly what you expectedâgood food, great wine, and laughter that fills the space like itâs been waiting for all of you to show up. Max, seated on your right, is in big-brother mode, making sure you try everything and nudging your glass whenever itâs even close to empty. Across from you, Pietra chats animatedly with one of Landoâs friends, and you smile along, but your attention keeps drifting. Lando is at the far end of the table, surrounded by people who hang onto his every word. Heâs effortlessly charismatic, telling some story you canât quite hear, but that has everyone laughing. Except every now and then, his eyes meet yours, just for a second. Itâs like heâs checking in, or maybe daring you to look away first.
You donât.
When he gets up to refill his drink, he passes behind you, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder. The touch is so brief, so casual, that no one else notices. But it sends a shiver through you anyway. âHaving fun?â he murmurs, his voice low and private, meant just for you. âLoads,â you reply, trying to sound unimpressed even as heat rises to your cheeks.
His chuckle is soft, almost affectionate, before he moves away. You tell yourself to focus, to ignore the way your heart is beating just a little too fast.
Later, the table splits into smaller conversations, and somehow, Lando ends up next to you. Max is too busy laughing at something Pietra said to notice when Lando leans in, his shoulder brushing yours. âThis is torture,â he says under his breath, his knee knocking lightly against yours under the table. Your throat goes dry. âWhat is?â âYou. Wearing this dress.â His voice is teasing, but thereâs an edge to it that makes you hold your breath.
You donât know how to respond, and for a moment, you just sit there, the noise of the room fading into the background. Then Max glances over, and Lando straightens, all easy charm again. âWhat are you two whispering about?â Max asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Lando doesnât miss a beat. âJust telling your sister she has terrible taste in wine.â
âHey!â you protest, and the table laughs. Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. âDonât listen to him. He drinks that sparkling stuff like itâs water.â The conversation moves on, and you pretend everything is normal, even as Landoâs knee stays pressed against yours under the table. And you donât move away.
As the laughter around the table flows easily, your own chuckle gets caught in your throat when Lando leans back in his chair, stretching casually, but you donât miss the way his knee once again brushes against yours under the table. Itâs subtle, almost as if heâs testing to see how long he can get away with it without anyone noticing. Your pulse quickens, and you do your best to focus on Pietra, whoâs telling an animated story about a mishap at her last work event.
But Lando is⌠distracting. His words replay in your head on an endless loopââthis is tortureââand you swear you can still feel the ghost of his knee against yours under the table. Itâs maddening, really. The ease with which he teases you under Maxâs nose, how effortlessly he switches back to joking with the group like he didnât just upend your entire sense of composure.
You glance his way and catch him smirking, like he knows exactly what heâs doing. His focus shifts back to his drink, but thereâs a flicker of something in his expressionâplayful yet deliberateâthat makes it impossible to ignore him. You try to shake it off. You tell yourself that itâs just Lando being Lando: cheeky, teasing, good at making people feel... something. Just like always. Except this doesnât feel like always, and thatâs the problem. Youâre trying to focus on the ongoing conversation. Something about summer plans, maybe? Youâre not even sure anymore. Lando is leaning back in his chair again now, one arm draped lazily over the back of his seat, looking every bit like someone who hasnât a care in the world. But he keeps glancing at you when he thinks no one else will notice.
âAlright,â Max announces suddenly, clapping his hands together as if heâs about to make a grand proclamation. âDrinks back at mine?â Thereâs a chorus of agreement around the table as chairs start scraping against the floor and people gather their things. You hesitate, glancing at your phone like you might have an excuse to slip away. But before you can concoct some half-hearted reason to head back to the hotel, Pietra loops an arm through yours, effectively trapping you. âYouâre coming, right?â although she forms it as a question, you know itâs really not.
âI wouldnât want to miss out,â you reply lightly, smiling at Pietra. Who, satisfied with your response, letâs go of you to join Max again. Your stomach twists again when you see Lando standing by the door, your coat in his hands, waiting like he has all the time in the world. His curls are a little messy, his grin lazy, yet sharp as his eyes meet yours in the dim light. Itâs as if he can sense your hesitation and is daring you to pull away. âCome on, stranger,â he says softly, leaning just close enough that his voice feels like itâs wrapping around you. âCanât bail now.â You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the way your heart jumps at the way he towers ever so slightly over you. âI didnât say I was bailing.â âNo?â His gaze drops briefly to your phone in your hand, then flicks back up to catch yours. âGood,â he says, his voice dipping lower, quieter. âBecause I wasnât going to let you.â
Itâs infuriating how easily he gets under your skin. With a huff of mock-annoyanceâbecause genuine annoyance is impossible when heâs looking at you like thatâyou slide your arms into the coat heâs still holding and step away before the spark between you burns any brighter.
The group spills out into the cool night air, laughter echoing down the cobblestone street as everyone makes their way toward Maxâs flat. Pietra loops her arm through yours again, chatting about some new cafĂŠ she wants to try tomorrow for breakfast. The walk to Maxâs place is short, but it feels like an eternity with Lando so close behind you in the group. Every step feels charged, like thereâs an invisible string stretched taut between the two of you. You try not to think about what he said earlierâor how his knee pressed against yours, or how warm his hand had been on your shoulder at dinnerâbut itâs useless. Heâs inescapable, even when he isnât touching you.
When you finally reach Max's apartment, everyone else appears calm and carefree. However, you have come to the realization that you can no longer let Lando do this to you. You donât know if he isnât aware of the drama it would cause if Max found out or if he just doesnât care about the consequencesâyou however do care about the consequences. While never openly spoken about, you know how your brother would feel about this. Heâd hate it. Lando is his best friend and you are his little sister. Two things that, frankly, shouldnât mingle so close. So you make the decision to talk to Lando tonight.
Itâs not like you donât care or that you donât feel things when youâre around him, but is acting on it really worth the pain it could and would cause?
Eventually everyone is spread across the living room, laughing and reminiscing, the buzz of good drinks and great music keeping the energy alive. Youâre perched on the arm of the couch, balancing your drink as Pietra chats animatedly beside you. Across the room, Lando lounges in a chair, looking infuriatingly relaxed, his attention shifting to you every few minutes. Itâs subtle, the way his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, but you feel itâlike a spark skittering across your skin. You pretend not to notice, focusing on Pietra's story about her disastrous attempt at paddleboarding last summer. But when Lando catches your eye mid-sentence, raising his brow in a silent tease, your stomach flips.
Max comes in from the kitchen, holding a fresh beer, his presence immediately commanding attention. âAlright, whose idea was it to leave me in charge of snacks?â he announces. âI could barely find some crisps, let alone figure out this sweets situation.â
Pietra groans. âMax, itâs literally all in the cupboard. You just have to put it in some bowls.â
âBut thatâs where you put them!â Max protests, plopping down beside Pietra. His knee bumps yours, but his focus is on his girlfriend, who shakes her head fondly. Lando seizes the moment to move closer, taking the newly vacated spot on the couch next to you. âYou okay there?â he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. âPerfectly fine,â you shoot back, matching his tone with a pointed glare. But your attempt at indifference falters when his knee brushes yoursâdeliberately, youâre sure. âYouâre really gonna keep your distance tonight, are you?â he asks, his voice light but carrying that edge of challenge that makes your heart race. âI am sitting next to you,â you counter, swirling your drink for effect. âYouâre just mad Iâm busy talking to everyone else tonight.â He chuckles softly, the sound brushing against your skin like velvet. âGive it time.â
Before you can respond, Maxâs voice cuts through the room. âWhat are you two whispering about now?â His tone is joking, but thereâs a hint of suspicion there that makes you stiffen. âJust telling your sister she needs to get some updated LN4 merch for the weekend,â Lando says smoothly, leaning back like he doesnât have a care in the world. âExcuse me?â you retort, feigning outrage. âThat stuff is expensive, genius.â The group erupts into laughter, and Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. âOf course, it is. You should stick to the Quadrant merch anyhow.â
"Hey now," Lando protests with a grin, "I'm hurt, Max. Thought we were friends." The conversation shifts, but you can't shake the tension thrumming beneath your skin. Lando's presence beside you is electric, and you're acutely aware of every subtle movement he makes. You try to focus on the others, laughing at the right moments and nodding along, but your mind keeps drifting back to the man next to you. While Lando's quick thinking may have diffused the situation, it only reinforces your resolve to talk to him. You need to set things straight before they spiral out of control.
As the night wears on, you find yourself growing more and more restless. You've been careful to mingle with everyone, pointedly avoiding extended conversations with Lando. But his presence is a constant, hovering at the edge of your awareness. You catch his eye across the room more than once, and each time, that familiar spark ignites in your chest.
Finally, as the party begins to wind down, you see your chance. Lando slips out onto the balcony, and after a moment's hesitation, you follow. The cool night air is a relief after the warmth of the apartment, and for a moment, you just stand there, letting it wash over you. "Thought you might follow me out here," Lando says softly, not turning around. He's leaning against the railing, his profile illuminated by the city lights below. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Lando, we need to talk."
He turns to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "I was wondering when you'd say that," he says softly, a hint of resignation in his voice. You step closer, careful to keep some distance between you. The city sprawls below, a tapestry of twinkling lights and distant sounds, but your focus narrows to the man in front of you. The air feels thick with unspoken words and simmering tension.
"This... whatever this is," you begin, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, "it needs to stop." Lando's brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he schools his expression. "What exactly are you referring to?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "The touches. The looks. The... the way you've been pushing boundaries tonight. It's not fair, Lando." Your words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's jaw clenches, a muscle twitching as he processes what you've said. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below and the muffled laughter from inside.
"Not fair?" Lando repeats, his voice low but charged with emotion. "What's not fair is pretending there's nothing between us." He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. "Do you really want to ignore this? To act like we don't feel anything when we're around each other?" You bite your lip, trying to ignore the way your heart races at his proximity. "Lando, it's not that simple. Max is your best friend, and he's my brother. We can't justâ"
"Can't what?" he interrupts, his voice rising slightly. "Can't be honest about how we feel? Can't take a chance on something that could be amazing?"â"Shh!" you hiss, glancing nervously at the sliding glass door. "Keep your voice down. Do you want everyone to hear?" Lando runs a hand through his curls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Maybe I do," he says, though he lowers his voice. "Maybe I'm tired of sneaking around, of pretending I don't want to be near you every second we're in the same room."
His words send a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to maintain your composure. "It's not just about us," you argue, your voice rising slightly. "What about Max? He's your best friend, Lando. How do you think he'd react?" Lando's eyes flash with a mix of frustration and determination. "I care about Max, you know I do. But I'm not going to let fear of his reaction dictate my life. Or my feelings." You glance nervously towards the sliding glass door, worried that your raised voices might carry inside. The last thing you need is for someone to come investigate. "Please, keep your voice down," you hiss, even as your own emotions threaten to overwhelm you. "No," Lando says, his tone firm but not unkind. "I'm tired of keeping quiet about this. About us." He takes another step closer, close enough that you can smell his cologne, a mixture of citrus and something woody that makes your head spin. His proximity is intoxicating, and you find yourself swaying towards him almost unconsciously.
"Lando," you breathe, your resolve weakening with every passing second. The city lights dance in his eyes, casting shadows across his face that only enhance his features. You can see the determination there, the longing, and it mirrors the ache in your own chest. But he's not listening. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and intense in the city lights. "I can't keep pretending," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Can you?" And before you can answer, before you can even think, he closes the distance between you.
His lips crash against yours, urgent and desperate. For a heartbeat, you're frozen, caught between shock and desire. Then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands find their way to his curls, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The world narrows to this momentâthe taste of him, the warmth of his body, the way your heart threatens to burst from your chest.
It's everything you've been trying to deny, everything you've been afraid to want, distilled into a single, burning instant.
But reality crashes back in like a bucket of ice water, and you jerk away, your eyes wide with panic, breathing hard, your lips tingling and your mind reeling. "We can't," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Lando, we can't do this." Even as every fiber of your being screams to pull him close again. Lando's eyes are wide, his chest heaving as he stares at you, looking as stunned as you feel.
Before he can respond, the sound of the balcony door sliding open makes you both freeze. You take a hasty step back, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure everyone can hear it. Max steps out onto the balcony, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. You and Lando are standing suspiciously close, both of you looking flushed and slightly disheveled. The air between you crackles with tension, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below.
"What's going on out here?" Max asks, his tone light but laced with suspicion. His gaze flicks between you and Lando, searching for answers in your expressions. Lando, ever quick on his feet, lets out a low whistle and gestures broadly at the cityscape. "Just admiring the view, mate," he says, his voice only slightly strained. "Can't beat a night like this, can you?" You nod enthusiastically, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "It's gorgeous," you agree, willing your racing heart to slow. "I was just telling Lando how I could stay out here all night."
Max leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The look he gives you is one you've known since childhoodâthe one that says he's not quite buying what you're selling. "Really?" he drawls. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you two were having a pretty intense conversation."
You feel your face flush as Max's gaze bores into you, his expression a mixture of concern and growing suspicion. The air on the balcony suddenly feels thick, charged with an uncomfortable tension that even the cool night breeze can't dispel. The city lights twinkle innocently behind you, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat. Lando shifts beside you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a reminder of what just transpired.
"Max," Lando starts, his voice steady despite the circumstances. But Max holds up a hand, silencing him. "Max," Lando repeats, forcing a laugh that sounds hollow even to your ears. "Mate. We were just..."â"No," Max says, his tone sharp. "I want to hear it from my sister." His gaze locks onto you, and suddenly you feel like you're fifteen again, caught sneaking out to a party. Except this is so much worse.
You take a deep breath, willing your voice not to shake. "Max, it's notâ"
"Don't," he interrupts, his eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me. I've seen the way you two have been acting all night. The whispers, the looks. And now I find you out here, alone, looking like..." He gestures vaguely at your disheveled appearance. Your stomach drops as you realize the jig is up. Max's eyes narrow as he looks between you and Lando, taking in your flushed faces, the slight dishevelment of Lando's curls where your fingers had been moments ago.
The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken truths. You can hear the muffled sounds of the party inside, laughter and music that seems to belong to another world entirely. A cool breeze ruffles your hair, carrying with it the scent of the city and the faintest trace of Lando's cologne.
"How long?" Max asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long has this been going on?" You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Lando steps forward, his shoulder brushing yours in a gesture that feels both protective and defiant. "Max," he begins, his voice steady despite the tension thrumming through his body. "It's not what you think."
"Oh really?" Max's laugh is bitter, cutting through the night air like a knife. "Because what I think is that my best friend and my sister have been sneaking around behind my back. Am I wrong?"
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Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"
On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.
Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.
He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.
Tommy.
Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.
Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving
As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.
Tommy: don't know why I texted that
Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you
Tommy: you don't have to reply
Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays
Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.
Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too
Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3
Tommy: you're working today?
Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard
They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.
Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything
Buck: it's better to keep busy
Tommy: I know that feeling
Tommy: I'm sorry
Buck: I'm sorry too
Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together
Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you
Tommy: I would have said that too
Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you
Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?
Buck: I don't think you know me well enough
Tommy: sorry
Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.
He takes a deep breath. Then he types.
Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?
Tommy: is that a good idea
Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.
Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.
Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.
It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.
He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.
Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift
Tommy: are you off on Monday
The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.
Buck: yes
Buck: your place this time
Buck: I'll bring cake
Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door
Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet
Buck: I'm really thankful you texted
Tommy: I'm thankful you replied
Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan
It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.
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ŕ¨ăťââââ TELL ME IâM A LITTLE ANGEL, SWEETHEART OF YOUR CITY ââââăťŕ§
pairing ⸺ satoru gojo x reader
teaser ⸺ as a child, you were taken in by the powerful gojo clan and raised alongside their heir, gojo satoru â but never as his sibling. now, at an elite school, your fragile bond is tested when an actual noble woman enters the picture, bringing in a marriage proposal.
content ⸺ fluff, reader is an academic achiever and has a good handwriting, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, cliff hanger ending, human auctions, implied slavery, jealousy, implied torture, shoko talks about using medical tools for torture (lol), blood, implied abuse, implied grape (not at reader), magic!au, historic!au, the ages of reader and gojo throughout the story: 3, 10, 12, 15, 17
count ⸺ 22k
authorâs note ⸺ thank you to everyone for waiting patiently! this is just the part one, i hope it does well to give me enough motivation to write a part two. i have so soo many ideas iâm hoping to incorporate.
đ§ ao3 wattpad
You sat next to the man, bowing deeply with him at some figure you couldnât care less about. It had to be someone important obviously, and you knew now was the time you were going to get kicked out of a place for the tenth time in your life, unwittingly dragging this poor man with you as well. He had seemed kind enough when he had bought you off at that auction.
He wasnât anything like you had feared. You had met other girls bonding with each other inside the cage; girls older and prettier than you, getting sold off one by one to old and creepy men who looked like they couldnât keep it in their pants. You had dreaded meeting the same fate as them. That was, until the man who kept increasing his offer for you looked younger and stronger.
He was probably like one of those army officers you had seen at your motherâs house, who would stand guard outside your small room each night she and her happy family went out to lavish parties, to make sure you didnât escape. Well, even if you did, you thought that was what they would have wanted, but they kept saying that they didnât want anyone noticing your existence. Not that they didnât have a good reason.
In your mind, you had hoped the man would win, and when he had, the triumphant look on his face made you sigh in relief; at least now you were sure you wouldnât be used as a hole for life. But were you, though? Because the thoughts kept creeping back; the looks on the other girlsâ faces when they were taken away by their new masters. But the mysterious man had made you sit on his pretty horse, taking you somewhere, away from the horrifying auctions that represented the worst atrocities made by humans.
You peered from under your hands, still in your bowing position. The person had now risen. He had dark hair and vivid blue eyes. He seemed to peer at you in as much curiosity as you were at him. That was, until a crisp voice had cut through the silence, knocking you out of your bow when it addressed your saviour to âpack his things and leaveâ.
âI understand, madam,â he said smoothly, getting up to leave, not before giving another curt nod. Then he turned to you. âThis is where my job ends, little one. Youâll be much happier here,â he whispered, nodding at you and standing up. You almost wanted to stop him before you remembered you were told several times that you didnât possess any human emotions. So you watched him leave, wondering how he was so sure this wouldnât be another one of your previous houses.
âAs for the child,â you snapped your head back to the dark-haired man in front of you who seemed to be giving commands, âwe must decide which family keeps her. From the looks of it, she needs to be tended to,â he eyed your wounds from previous struggles you wished to forget about.
You stared at the people he was questioning, and they all looked away. This seemed like a meeting room, and the people were lined up sitting parallel to each other. Some were glaring at you like you had come to raid their houses, fuck their wives and drink their blood. None of them seemed to realize you were only a child of ten. Nervous under all the gazes, you wished to find another person you could bow to, just to avoid all the staring you were receiving.
âWe will,â said the same voice you had heard earlier, and you finally looked at its source.
She had long, white hair that seemed to reach till the floor. Her eyes were light, and she looked pretty. She had a cold look on her face that made her seem frightening, though, and that was probably why you saw that none of the others could even muster enough courage to look at her eyes when she said those words.
âWell, itâs decided then,â the man said in a final tone, as if he had only bargained about the price of a few watermelons from his local vendor. âLove, if you will.â
Love? Oh, maybe they were married.
The woman stood up and everyone bowed at her again. You were about to sink back into the position before she crouched down in front of you, caressing your hair with a touch that made you look back at her.
âCome with me, daughter.â
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
âI have a sister now?â âShh, and donât call her that. Iâve already told you, sheâs not your sisterââ
âDoes she know how to ride horses?â âDo you ever do anything else?â
âShe should know how to ride horses.â âYou can teach her.â
âOh, wow, really?â
You scrambled away from the door at the sounds of footsteps returning and sunk back into the expensive bed the woman had had prepared for you. The âwomanâ who asked you to call her âmomâ, somehow losing the twinkle in her eye when commanding maids around, which she seemed to regain every time you spoke something.
You knew it was a trap though. If she really âadoptedâ you and wanted you to call her âmomâ, wouldnât that mean you were the sister to whatever child she already had? Yet here you were, all cleaned up and changed, almost believing the charade before realizing the child was being advised not to consider you as their sister.
You bit your lip, trying not to cry. At least you werenât at your old house thinking of ways to poison your family, or in that cage counting down for when it was your turn, or lying dead in some creepâs backyard. Maybe you could enjoy this while it lasted.
âMay I come in?â A polite, boyish voice rang out from behind your door. A hushed whisper of an older woman seemed to reprimand him for not knocking, and the two started to argue.
âYes?â You didnât quite know how to respond professionally to the request, so your answer came off more as a question. You sure hoped the man wouldnât scold you for your manners as well.
A boy stepped forward, and you immediately knew he was the son of the two clan leaders. Not because of his clothes, but because of his face. He had the same white hair as his mother, and the blue eyes he got from his father. Maybe blue eyes were a thing of the clan?
âHi,â he said awkwardly, and the door closed behind him. âMother sent me here for âbonding timeâ.â You kept staring at him, not realizing you were staring. He looked up at you and flushed. Only then did you realize, chuckling awkwardly and scratching your wrists, trying to get used to the expensive scents the maids had covered you with.
âCan I⌠uh,â he trailed off, staring at you, and you blinked back at him, not knowing what he was going to say.
â...sit on the bed?â You offered, and he raised an eyebrow before climbing on it, sitting in the most formal position you had ever seen.
âDo you like horse riding?â âWhat?â
He flushed even more. âMother said we should ask each other questions to get to know the other better.â
âOh.â âYeah.â
There was another silence.
âSo itâs my turn to ask a question now?â You asked. âYeah.â
âDo you like potatoes?â
âWhat?â He processed your question for a solid five seconds before bursting into laughter. You kept staring at him as if he was stupid. Did you say something stupid?
âI like you!â He said in between giggles, his old formal, uptight position long lost. It was your turn to flush now. No one had ever said they even wanted you alive, let alone say that. Well, no one except for three people in the past few hours, and now this guy. You had a feeling you might prefer this over anything else for now.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The soft hum of celebration still lingered in the air. Lanterns flickered outside glowing warmly across your room. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the wrapped gifts and trinkets the Gojo family had insisted on presenting you earlier. It had been strange, the idea of sharing a birthday with Satoru. You didnât even know your real birthday, so his â no â your mother announced it would be shared.
Satoru had, of course, embraced the attention, dragging you along with him to cut the massive cake. You had never seen anything like this before, and it might have shown on your face, because he had held your wrist tightly as if annoyed you were taking so long, and cut the cake with you. That was what made it impossible to shun the feelings of belongingness.
Now, the house was quiet, and the festivities had faded. But just as you were about to pull the covers over yourself, the faint sound of your door creaking open made you pause.
âHey,â Satoruâs voice whispered, followed by the soft padding of his feet. You turned your head to see him, still in the formal robes mother had fussed over earlier, though they were now slightly askew. His hair was a mess, his face flushed from excitement â or maybe all the sweets heâd devoured.
âShould you not knock?â you asked, folding your arms. You inwardly cringed at the noble accent you had unknowingly adopted from the Gojo family. âAnd what are you doing here?â
âEscaping,â he said, as if that explained everything. He plopped down without invitation beside you on the bed, leaning back on his hands and gazing at the ceiling. âMotherâs got the maids cleaning up. I was bored. Figured youâd be awake.â
You rolled your eyes, but he caught the faint smile tugging at your lips. âYouâre going to get us in trouble. Again.â
âWhatâs the point of having a birthday if you canât even cause some trouble now?â He shot you a grin, then leaned closer to the window. âLetâs go outside.â
âWhat? No.�� âPlease, please, pretty please?â
âI am not letting my first birthday become my death day,â you scoffed at him. Taking one look at the pout on his face, which seemed to stretch all the way down to his neck, you sighed, and he knew he won. âFine. But weâre only looking outside.â
âWhat!? But whatâs the fun in that?â âThen go alone.â
He pouted again, but you merely looked away trying to shield yourself from his cuteness. Soon after though, Satoru relented. He slid the window open and climbed onto the ledge, grumbling for you to follow. You joined him, settling beside him as the smell of night air filled your room. The stars were brilliant tonight, like silver dust across an ink-black canvas.
âTheyâre so bright,â you murmured. âItâs almost⌠too much.â
Satoru snorted. âThatâs the problem with you. You overthink everything. Just look at them â theyâre pretty, thatâs all there is to it.â
You rolled your eyes again but couldnât suppress a small laugh. âFine. Theyâre beautiful. Happy now?â
âVery,â he said, grinning. Then he tilted his head, closing his eyes and mumbling something to himself. He opened his eyes, looking at you expectantly. âNow itâs your turn. Make a wish.â
âWhat?â You frowned.
âA wish! Like for your birthday. I know we already made some during the cake thing, but this oneâs private. Just for us.â
You hesitated, unsure of what to wish for, before finally closing your eyes. Satoru watched you intently as if trying to guess your wish, but when you opened your eyes again, he pretended to be fascinated by the sky.
âOh, done already? What did you wish for?â he asked after a moment.
âYou said it was private,â you shot back. âWhat did you wish for?â
âNot telling,â he replied smugly, crossing his arms. âWhat if you laugh?â
âWhy would I laugh?â you asked, raising an eyebrow.
âBecause youâre you.â âAnd youâre stupid.â
The two of you fell into another argument, but when it finally died down, it was followed by a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of distant crickets. Then, out of nowhere, Satoru blurted out, âDo you think the stars can hear us?â
âWhat?â You stared at him.
âThe stars,â he said seriously, pointing upward. âDo you think they grant wishes, like gods or something?â
âThatâs stupid,â you muttered, but you couldnât hide the faint curl of amusement on your lips. âTheyâre just balls of gas.â
âWell, maybe those gas balls are listening,â he said, sticking his tongue out. âYou donât know everything. Maybe they are hearing us right now.â
You opened your mouth to retort but froze. A memory seemed to resurfaceâŚ
âI still donât know why you decided to keep the child!â a deep voice was screeching at another, soft one.
âI donât know what came over me, I swear!ââIt is the spawn of Satan himself! I respect you for what you have been through, but it is time to dispose of her.â
âDispose? You donât meanââ
Large hands came your way to muffle the screams from your mouth.
Your fingers clenched the windowsill.
âThey didnât hear me before,â you said quietly, almost to yourself.
âWhat?â Satoru noticed the change in your tone, and turned to look at you, his brow furrowing. âWho? The balls?â
You shook your head quickly. âNever mind. Forget I said anything.â
But Satoru wasnât one to let things go. âHey,â he said softly. âYou can tell me. I mean, if you want.â
His sincerity made your chest tighten. Normally, after the word âballsâ, he would have made a bad joke about male anatomy. But he seemed to have read the room enough to shut up. You looked at him, his bright blue eyes watching you with genuine concern. For a moment, you thought about telling him. But then, the weight of it all felt too heavy to share. He was too young, too shielded from the horrors of the world to be able to handle any of it anyway.
âItâs nothing,â you muttered. âJust something dumb I used to believe.â
Satoru opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he smiled gently and nudged your shoulder. âOkay. But if you ever want to talk about dumb things, Iâm here. You know, Iâm dumb, soâŚâ he tried making the joke you always did.
You didnât know how to respond to that, so you simply nodded. The two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, watching the stars. Finally, Satoru stretched and hopped down from the ledge.
âGoodnight,â he said, giving you a lopsided grin. âAnd happy birthday.â
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the warmth in his voice. âYou too,â you said softly.
As he closed the door as softly as he could behind him, you stared out at the stars, wondering if maybe, just maybe, they had started listening after all.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The sound of hooves clattering against the cobblestone path filled the air as the royal carriage swayed gently on its way to the prestigious School of Royalty. The morning sun cast a golden glow on the lush green fields outside, but inside, the atmosphere was both tense and excited.
âYou know,â Satoru began, leaning lazily against the plush velvet seat, âI heard thereâs a whole batch of new exchange students joining today. Rumor is, one of themâs from the Silver Crescent Kingdom. Ever seen anyone from there? Theyâre supposed to have that, uh⌠âethereal glow.â You think thatâs real, or just something people say?â
You barely glanced up from the notebook in your lap, furrowing your brows as you paused your incoherent babbling of equations. âIf you spent half as much time studying for the exam as you do gossiping, maybe you wouldnât need to cheat off me later.â
He smirked, unbothered. âCheat? Me? Iâm offended. Iâm just naturally brilliant.â
âAnd naturally annoying,â you muttered, flipping to another page of hastily scribbled notes.
Satoru ignored the jab, his grin widening. At fifteen, heâd grown into someone who couldnât step into a room without people swooning for his attention. You guessed it was just a Gojo thing he inherited from his mother. The girls adored him â some from afar, others more boldly (you still cringe remembering that one time a girl with a sorry excuse of a top was taken away by your guards for trying to get a kiss from him last year) â and the boys either envied or wanted to be him. The name âSatoru Gojoâ seemed to be whispered wherever he went, and he couldnât be happier.
You, on the other hand, had decided that the attention you receive at your house was enough to satisfy you for a lifetime, and you would rather spend your time learning something new â at least, thatâs what you told your mother; that you would rather cry over your grades than guys, to which Satoru had cleverly remarked, âWhy not both?â earning a glare from his mother. While you did have friends, and you did seem to be friendly with everyone around you, you would watch in dismay when most of these friends would recite their love stories, and you had nothing to share. The boys barely noticed you, too busy being gay over Satoru. But you had your books, your achievements, and the satisfaction of knowing you didnât need anyoneâs approval.
âAnd get this,â Satoru continued, his excitement growing. âI heard one of themâs some kind of prodigy. Like, they mastered advanced magic when they were ten. Can you imagine? Finally, someone who might be able to keep up with me. Theyâre a senior too, so I want to see the look on their face when they realize Iâm better than them.â
âMhm,â you replied distractedly, not bothering to look up. You were too busy with the definition of archaic spellcasting principles and the formulas for mana stabilization to muster a reply of more than a single syllable. The exam was in less than an hour, and the thought of failing even one question sent a jolt of anxiety through you.
Satoru leaned forward, peering at your notes upside down. âWhatâs that? Something about magic circles? Youâre still on those? I mastered those ages ago.â
You snapped your notebook shut and shot him a glare. âYou didnât âmasterâ anything. You just wing it and hope for the best.â
âHey, it works, doesnât it?â He shrugged. âBesides, youâll cover for me if I mess up. Thatâs what partners are for.â
âWeâre not partners.â
âSure we are,â he said breezily. âPartners in crime. Mischief-makers extraordinaire. The unbeatable duo.â He winked, and you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didnât fall out of your head.
The carriage hit a bump, causing you to clutch your notes tighter. Satoru, unfazed, lounged back in his seat and stared out of the window. âYou know, you should relax a little. Exams arenât life or death.â
âFor you, maybe. Some of us donât have a safety net made of charm and raw talent.â
He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. âWow, you really think Iâm charming and talented? Thanks, baby.â
You didnât dignify that dumb statement with a response. Instead, you turned your attention back to your notes, determined to make use of every second you had left.
The carriage began to slow, signaling their arrival at the school gates. Satoru straightened, his excitement palpable. âHere we go. Time to make an impression. Think the exchange students are going to swoon over me?â
âOnly if they have no taste,â you muttered, gathering your things.
He grinned, standing and offering you a hand as the carriage came to a stop. âCome on, donât be such a poopy.â
You cringed again before taking his hand, letting him help you down. The moment your feet touched the ground, the buzz of the school grounds surrounded you. Students swarmed the entrance, chattering excitedly about everything from the new arrivals to last-minute cramming for the exam.
Satoru strode ahead confidently, while you lingered a step behind, clutching your notes tightly. He glanced at you, running back to catch up with you. âWhereâs Kuro? Heâs supposed to be part of the dramatic entrance I had planned.â
âI sent him away. He was annoying me with the confetti.â âYouâ WHAT?â
You ignored him, continuing to walk up the stairs leading to your exam hall without looking up at anyone. Satoru jogged beside you.
âWe havenât met with any of the exchange students yet!â âSatoru, if you want to, then leave.â
He pouted, planting your face in front of yours above your notes. âYou know I wonât leave you.â
âThen stay quiet and let me study.â âAlright, alright,â he said, sighing. He stared at you for a few moments, pacing around the hall with you while you muttered curses under your breath. He smiled. You always hated this one subject but felt the need to excel in it anyway. âHey,â he said softly. âYouâll do great, you know.â
The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, but you masked it with a scoff. âYouâd better hope so. If I fail, youâll fail too.â
He laughed again, a sound as effortless as everything else about him. âThatâs true. Canât impress anyone with an F on the paper, can I?â The loud bell rang, and Satoru moved to cover your ears with the palms of his hands. âIâve got you covered, princess. In return, you must guarantee that I pass.â
You smiled a genuine smile at him, something you had gotten quite used to doing in the past four years you had spent with your new family. âI canât guarantee that. Letâs go, Iâm done now.â
His eyes widened comically, âWhat do you mean you canât guarantee that?â You laughed at him, and he snatched your notebook from your hands. âGive me that! Oh god. Iâm doomed, arenât I?â
âYup, letâs go now.â
The exam hall echoed with the sound of faint murmurs and the occasional nervous coughs. While theory had been nerve-wracking, at least you had been able to cram for it. But the practicals? They were a whole different beast. No amount of late-night revisions could prepare you for actual spellwork.
You clutched your wand tightly, its polished surface cold and smooth against your clammy palms. The examiner called your name, and your stomach flipped. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. What were the steps again? Swing your wand, say the words, and hope for the best.
You stood before the enchanted apparatus. It was a simple magical round glass that would respond to the accuracy of your spell, changing its colour accordingly. The orb pulsed softly, steams of gas floating stilly in its interior, waiting. You were supposed to transfigure a cactus into a goblet full of water. The room was silent, dozens of eyes boring into your back.Â
Why did they have to make everyone do the practicals individually, and on stage?
You closed your eyes briefly, mustering every ounce of focus. With a flick of your wand and the carefully practiced words spilling from your lips, you executed the spell. Wand still in the air, you waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened. Then, the orb glowed a brilliant gold.
âPerfect!â The elderly professor cried, clasping her hands together. She really liked you. âNext, please.â
Relief washed over you, and you felt a disbelieving smile creep onto your face. Scooting off the stage, you climbed down the stairs to your seat. You caught Satoruâs eye and mouthed, Good luck. He was slouching on his chair, winking at you and giving you a lazy thumbs-up.
Just as you sat down, you noticed your gaze didnât leave him. You kept looking at him, how effortlessly good he looked in his outfit, sunglasses perched languidly on his nose. He was looking straight ahead at the stage above, and you glanced at the front too. Shoko got a pale yellow glow from the orb, an easy B.
Your eyes wandered to the girl in line ahead of Satoru. You recognized her instantly, how could you not? Wavy chestnut hair that caught the light just so, impeccable posture, an air of confidence that bordered on smug, and her pink lips upright looking behind her. She was from one of the distant kingdomsâbrilliant in class, annoyingly charming, and unfortunately, quite pretty. And right now, she seemed pretty happy about being positioned so close to Satoru.
It was the way she was smiling at Satoru that irritated you. Not the polite, fleeting kind of smile youâd give a classmate. No, this was different. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curved in a way that made even you highly uncomfortable. You saw her fingers brush a strand of hair behind her ear â twice, because apparently once wasnât enough â and she leaned just a fraction closer to him.
You squinted. Was she flirting? She was flirting. Yuck. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but your jaw tightened. Getting up sneakily from your seat, you joined the crowd they stood with to spy on the two.
âI hear the examiners this year are super strict,â she said, her voice soft and lilting. âNot that you need to worry. Iâve seen you in dueling practice â youâre incredible,â she sighed at him dramatically, eyes turned to hearts.
Satoru blinked at her, then scratched the back of his neck. âUh, thanks? I guess?â
She laughed â too loud for a casual compliment. âYouâre so modest! Thatâs so rare, you know.â Her eyes sparkled as she stared up at him, clearly hoping heâd reciprocate the energy.
He didnât. âModest? Me?â Satoruâs tone was laced with genuine confusion, his brow furrowing slightly. âYou sure youâre talking about the right guy?â
You saw Geto, his best friend, stifle a laugh at that, but you didnât find any of this funny. Geto caught your eye and immediately stopped laughing, trying to inch closer to Satoru to warn him of your incoming wrath.
But the girl kept blocking his way.
âOh, absolutely,â she said smoothly, leaning in even closer. âI bet youâll get top marks, as always. You must have so many admirers.â
Your grip on your wand tightened. You might not be as violent as Satoru when it came to dueling, but you couldnât care less about that at the moment. Nor did you seem to notice the sheer number of students surrounding you.
Satoru, as usual, was utterly oblivious. âAdmirers? I sure hope so,â he said with a shrug. âBut thanks, I guess?â
You wanted to shake him. How could he not see what she was doing? The way her voice softened whenever she said his name, how her lashes fluttered just a bit too much when she looked at him â it was painfully obvious. And yet, Satoru treated her like he treated everyone else: polite, casual, and just detached enough to make it clear he wasnât interested.
âNext!â called the examiner, and the girlâs name echoed through the hall.
She turned to Satoru with a dazzling smile. âWish me luck?â
âUh, good luck?â he said, scratching his head.
You were half a second away from gagging, Geto slipping from beside Satoru to join you, both of you dissing the situation in hushed whispers.
As she walked away, you muttered under your breath, âUnbelievable.â
Geto muttered, equally frustrated, but this was pointed towards Satoru, âUnbelievable indeed.â
Your eyes followed the movements of her wand, and you tried to calculate the exact angle by which she tilted her wand too high, the length by which her hand movement went wrong and the distance between her wrist and the cactus assigned to her. Geto shook his head at your overly focused expression.
A loud pop filled the air, followed by startled squeaks. Your eyes widened. The examiners scrambled around, now very much turned into rats! The girl froze, her wand dangling uselessly at her side as laughter rippled through the room.
You bit your lip. What were you supposed to be feeling right now? Secondhand embarrassment or vindication? Serves her right, you thought, though a small part of you almost pitied her. Almost.
The headmaster, who had been watching the whole ordeal with an amused expression, quickly restored order, probably glad he wasnât turned into a mouse or something. He dismissed the rest of the students and awarded automatic Aâs to those who hadnât gone yet.
You groaned and Geto laughed at you, a grimacing Shoko dangling from his arm. Together, the three of you were about to leave the hall when Satoru caught up with you, grinning like heâd just won the lottery. âWild. Best exam ever. I didnât even have to do anything!â
You shot him a sideways glance, your mood souring again. âYeah, lucky you.â
âWait, are you mad?â he asked, peering at you. âYouâre mad. Why are you mad?â
âIâm not mad,â you said shortly, walking faster, waving goodbye to Geto, who was now left alone to deal with a hungry kitten, Shoko.
âYouâre definitely mad,â he teased, catching up. âWhat, is it because I got an A without lifting a finger? Donât worry, youâll get to cheat off my usual genius self next time. Maybe youâll even get an A+++++++ because of me⌠or whatever the highest grade is.â
âRight,â you said, rolling your eyes. âYouâre so modest,â you mimicked the girl from earlier, but he didnât get the reference.
At break, you sat under the shade of a tree, quietly eating your snack and watching the courtyard buzz with post-exam chatter. Across the lawn, the girl was crying into her boyfriendâs shoulder, her wails loud enough to carry. You frowned, unsure whether to feel sorry for or annoyed at her.
Her boyfriend, a tall, broad-shouldered guy from her kingdom, seemed to be comforting her, rubbing her back and murmuring reassurances. Weird, you thought. He doesnât even know heâs worse than Satoru in her eyes.
The suspension had been swift: four months for reckless and dangerous spellcasting. Watching her now, you couldnât muster much sympathy. It was one thing to fail; it was another to fail so dramatically. Itâs what she deserves.
Satoru plopped down beside you, unwrapping a burger heâd somehow acquired (probably chased after Shoko to steal her food). âHey, isnât that, uh... Britney? No, wait, Bridget? Or... Burger?â
You raised an eyebrow. âBurger?â
âYeah, burger,â he said, taking a huge bite and gesturing vaguely in her direction. âSheâs got layers, yâknow? Like a burger.â
âYouâre ridiculous,â you said, shaking your head.
âCâmon, you gotta admit itâs funny,â he said, his grin widening. âShe tries to turn on the charm, and bam! Instant ratification.â
You groaned at the pun, but laughter bubbled up anyway. Satoruâs dumb humor always had a way of disarming you.
âHeyyyyyyyy!â A voice dragged out, and you were met with a flash of dark blue hair before you were hugged tightly. âI heard your exam went great, but then, of course it did.â She patted your head. âWell done.â
âThanks, Utahime.â
âNo need to thank me,â Utahime pulled out your favourite chips from her bag and handed them to you.
âHey, nothing for me?â Satoru wailed.
âWho the fuck are you?â âRude.â
She ignored him and turned back to you. âAnyway, did you see any of the new exchange students? Theyâre good-looking.â
âSo?â You munched on your chips.
âSo,â she said loudly, shooing Satoru off to sit in his place next to you, âwe can finally get you a boyfriend.â
Satoru snorted. âBoyfriend? Why does she need a boyfriend?â
âAnd,â she stepped on his foot with her heel and he skipped away across the courtyard, foot in his hand and muttering curses under his breath. âThereâs that prodigy guy. You two could have been academic rivals if he was in your grade. Ugh, this is so annoying. Couldnât he repeat a few classes? Dumbass.â
âUh, Iâm not interesââ âYes, you are,â she looked at you with a wide, crazy smile as if daring you to disagree, and you gulped.âNo wasting time watching couples break up,â she pointed at the girl in front of you, whose boyfriend seemed to have heard of the real reason she messed up her spell. Utahime lifted you by one arm and practically flew the yards to reach the main hall, where your assembly would take place to welcome the exchange students.
The assembly hall buzzed with anticipation, the crowd of students shifting restlessly as they filled the rows of wooden benches. Your arm still ached from Utahime dragging you all the way here. You, on the other hand, couldnât help but feel drainedâphysically and emotionally.
The morningâs drama was still fresh in your mind, particularly the girlâs humiliating display. The idea of someone so brazenly cozying up to Satoru still gnawed at you. And now, you had to sit through an assembly to greet some mysterious prodigies who probably thought they were better than everyone else. Perfect.
âSit here,â Utahime ordered, pointing to a spot near the front. âI need a good view.â
âOf what?â you asked, dropping onto the bench with a huff.
âDuh, the new guys. Maybe one of them will be your destined academic rival-slash-love interest,â she said dramatically, clasping her hands like a cheesy romance novel heroine.
You rolled your eyes. âIâm fine without one, thanks.â
âOh, donât be boring,â she said, plopping down beside you. âYou need some excitement in your life. Besides, I heard some of the new guys are supposed to be really good-looking,â she whispered, leaning in as if discussing a conspiracy theory involving the Monarchy of Mars. âLike, model good-looking.â
You let out a noncommittal hum, tracing the edge of the seat in front of you with a finger. Utahime nudged you. âDonât you care? Come on, arenât you curious?â
âNot really,â you lied.
Utahime rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. âSure, sure. But if someone walks in here looking like a movie star, donât say I didnât warn you.â
Your gaze wandered to the double doors at the front of the hall, where the new students were supposed to enter. You didnât care much about the guys. But what if there were girls? Pretty girls. The kind with perfect skin and perfect hair and that effortless grace you always seemed to lack.
Your stomach churned. Why were you even thinking about that?
You glanced at Utahime, still chattering away about rumors sheâd heard excitedly. She was bouncing slightly in her seat, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. But you couldnât shake the thought â what if everyone thought the other girls were prettier? You could almost smell the break up stories your dozen friends would fetch for you because the new girls seemed hotter to the dung-nosed guys of your school.
âFor the next few months, I will be stuck amidst boy troubles,â you muttered, glancing across the hall. Satoru had finally joined the crowd, sauntering in late as usual. He spotted you almost immediately and shot you a wink before sliding into a seat with Geto and Shoko.
Your stomach did an involuntary flip, but you shoved the feeling down. He was just being Satoru like always. Thatâs all it was.
Right?
The headmasterâs booming voice filled the hall. âWelcome, students, to this yearâs exchange program orientation!â
The crowd settled as the headmaster launched into a long-winded speech about tradition, excellence, and the importance of collaboration between kingdoms. You zoned out almost immediately, your eyes drifting back to Satoru.
He was whispering something to Geto, who smirked and nudged him in the ribs. Shoko looked utterly disinterested, flipping through a medical journal sheâd smuggled in. Typical.
You pulled your eyes away from them. The last time you had zoned out in class because of him, your mood had been soured for the whole following hour. The sound of applause gave you an excuse out of your reverie. The exchange students were being introduced now, stepping onto the stage one by one. They were all polished, confident, and, admittedly, quite impressive.
Utahime elbowed you sharply. âLook at that one!â she hissed, nodding toward a tall boy with striking blond hair and piercing brown eyes.
You blinked. âLooks like he walked out of a painting.â
âExactly,â she said, smirking. âHeâs perfect for you.â
You groaned. âCan we not do this right now?â
Utahime ignored you entirely, listing off reasons why heâd make a great boyfriend: âSmart, handsome, probably good at magicââ
âDefinitely better at cactus transfiguration,â you muttered, earning a snort of laughter from her.
Meanwhile, Satoru had twisted around in his seat, craning his neck to see what the commotion was about. When his eyes landed on you and Utahime, his expression soured slightly. He didnât like being left out, and it was written all over his face.
âWhoâs better at cactus transfiguration?â He suddenly appeared behind you.
âNone of your business,â Utahime shot back, sticking her tongue out.
âWow, mature,â Satoru deadpanned.
The assembly droned on, with each exchange student introducing themselves in turn. You tried to pay attention, really, but your mind kept wandering. Utahimeâs ridiculous matchmaking schemes. Satoruâs infuriatingly perfect smile. The girlâs earlier meltdown. It was all swirling together into a chaotic mess of emotions you didnât have the energy to untangle.
Finally, the headmaster wrapped up his speech with a flourish. âLetâs give our guests a warm welcome!â he declared, prompting another round of applause.
As the crowd began to disperse, Utahime grabbed your arm again. âCome on, letâs go talk to him!â
âTo who?â you asked, bewildered. âThe blond-haired guy, obviously!â
âAbsolutely not,â you said, digging your heels into the ground.
But before you could argue further, a familiar voice interrupted.
âLeaving without saying hi? Rude.â
You turned to find Satoru standing behind you still, his trademark grin firmly in place.
Utahime groaned. âGo away, Gojo.â
âCanât. Iâm here to rescue my friend from your matchmaking madness,â he said, draping an arm over your shoulder.
You tried to shrug him off, but he held on tight, his presence annoyingly comforting.
âWhy do you care?â Utahime shot back.
Satoruâs grin widened, but his tone was surprisingly serious. âBecause she doesnât need some random guy when sheâs got me.â
He tugged you away, leaving Utahime fuming in his wake.
âThanks for the save,â you mumbled once you were out of earshot.
âAnytime,â Satoru said lightly, though there was an edge to his voice you couldnât quite place. âAnd besides, didnât want you to end up with an annoying motherââ
You raised an eyebrow at him. Did he forget he was in a royal school where all the students and teachers were high-class nobles and the mere mention of vocabulary outside of the poshed-up ones exclusively for the rich would make him an infamous wreck in everyoneâs eyes?
He caught your eye and continued, ââtrucker.â
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The dining table was as extravagant as ever, its polished surface reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier overhead. Plates were neatly arranged, and bowls of steaming food were placed in a perfect line down the centre. Mother sat at the head of the table, her posture so upright it made your back ache just looking at her. Across from her sat Father, whose stern expression was an almost permanent fixture at meals.
You occupied your usual spot, tucked between Satoru and his mother, a position that felt both safe and stifling. Satoru, of course, lounged in his chair as if it were a throne, pushing peas around his plate with one chopstick, clearly uninterested in the discussion at hand. It was peaceful and calm. But as soon as Satoruâs father set down his chopsticks, you knew this tranquillity wouldnât last.
âSatoru,â his father began.
Satoru didnât even look up, lazily poking at his food. âUh oh. Here we go.â
âDonât start,â his mother said sharply, and Satoru sighed dramatically, dropping his chopsticks like they were too heavy to hold.
âFine. What is it this time? Did someone see me napping in class? Because, for the record, I was listening with my eyes closed.â
âYour instructor tells me your theoretical scores are excellent, as expected,â Satoruâs mother began, her sharp gaze sweeping across the table to land on him. âBut your duel with Suguru during last weekâs practice was... undisciplined.â
Satoru shrugged, not bothering to look up. âItâs not my fault Suguru got cocky.â
His fatherâs goblet hit the plate with a sharp clink. âAnd whose fault is it that you refuse to follow proper form? Youâre not dueling for fun, Satoru. These exercises are meant to sharpen your skills for real combat.â
You could feel the tension grow, so you instinctively focused on the rice in your bowl. Satoru, however, leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.
âReal combat isnât about sticking to the rulebook,â he said lazily, resting an arm on the back of your chair. âItâs about adaptability.â
âThat is not an excuse to showboat,â his mother snapped. âYou might think youâre untouchable, but arrogance will get you killed one day.â
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes â irritation, maybe, or defiance â but he masked it with a grin. âNot likely.â
âOnly because youâre naturally talented,â his mother interjected coldly. âTalent will only carry you so far, Satoru. You lack discipline, respect, andââ
âManners,â his father finished, glaring at him.
His mother pinched the bridge of her nose. âAll weâre trying to make you understand is, this isnât a joke, Satoru. Youâre supposed to be the strongest, and yet youâre constantly underperforming. Meanwhile, look at her.â She gestured to you, and your heart sank.
âOh no,â you muttered under your breath.
âLook at her,â his mother repeated. âTop marks in every subject, excellent dueling reports, and the teachers canât stop praising. Why canât you be more like her?â
Satoru threw up his hands. âBecause sheâs a robot! Have you seen her handwriting? Itâs terrifying!â
âI just have neat handwriting,â you mumbled defensively.
âNeat? Itâs like a calligraphy competition on every page,â Satoru said, jabbing a chopstick at you. âShe probably practices writing spells for fun.â
âSheâs perfect,â his father said firmly, as if it were an unshakable fact of the universe.
âExactly my point!â Satoru exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. âHow am I supposed to compete with that?!â
âYouâve been doing wonderfully,â his mother interrupted warmly, and you almost choked on your water. She reached to kiss your forehead and you felt fuzzy all over.
âReally?â you said hopefully.
âYes,â his father agreed, nodding. âWeâre very impressed with your progress. And your last dueling performance was flawless. Keep it up.â
Satoruâs jaw dropped. âWhat? Thatâs it? No lecture about being even better? No existential guilt trip?â
âShe doesnât need one,â his mother said simply.
âSheâs already self-motivated,â his father added.
Satoru gawked at them, then at you. âWait, are you seriously not going to roast her? Not even a little?â
His mother held up a hand to silence the banter. âEnough. Weâre not here to discuss her. Weâre here to discuss you and your inability to take anything seriously.â
âI take plenty of things seriously!â Satoru protested.
âName one,â his father challenged.
Satoru opened his mouth, paused, then pointed to you. âHer.â
You nearly choked on your rice. âWhat?!â
âSee? I take her academic success very seriously,â he continued smoothly. âSheâs basically my tutor at this point. Without her, Iâd probably be failing food transfiguration.â
âFood transfiguration is not the metric for success,â his father said dryly, but his lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
âAnd yet, itâs a class!â Satoru shot back. âA class I pass, thanks to her.â
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. âPlease stop talking.â
âNever,â Satoru said cheerfully, ruffling your hair like you were a pet.
The room went silent for a beat, and then his father muttered, âPass the rice.â
You couldnât help but snort, quickly covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. Satoruâs grin widened, clearly taking your reaction as a victory.
âIâm serious about the food transfiguration, though,â he whispered to you as the conversation shifted. âYou saved me from flunking that one.â
âBy telling you to stop turning the chicken into a dinosaur?â you whispered back, rolling your eyes.
âExactly. Genius advice.â Satoru sighed, slumping dramatically. "I swear, if I werenât so charming, Iâd be useless."
âYou are,â you replied, teasing him with a grin.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The foreign exchange students filed into the classroom. You hadnât met any of them yet, but the instant you saw a giggling pack of girls, dressed in a way that clearly screamed âIâm a tourist, please give me attention,â take seats scattered around the room, you knew this would be a long class. They were chatting loudly, condescending smiles on their faces and prissy postures to back it up. One of them locked eyes with you and stood up.
The girl scanned the room, perhaps trying to find something to shift the attention of the bustling and noisy class to her. Sitting beside you, Geto didnât even flinch as the girl cleared her throat loudly. You could feel it. She was about to open her mouth.
And open it she did.
âDo you guys feel,â she addressed her fellow exchange people, âthat the culture here is a bit⌠Well, I donât know what you'd call it. Primitive, I guess? Itâs like they just dug it up from some ancient ruins," she said, waving a hand dismissively, as if she were talking about a dusty artefact. âThis wholeâ uhmâ âhonourâ thing? So outdated. I didnât find any such codes on how to behave in the culture of the South, or the West, or the South-West. Maybe it is because the people here still need to be taught manners, I suppose.â
The other students, contrary to what she had hoped, didnât pay any attention to her. They didnât seem to have heard her, because if they had⌠well, all of them were from noble clans, of course they would have a problem with it.
The girl didnât seem to notice. Or care.
âYou there!â She screeched at you, coming to a halt in front of your desk after pacing around like she was delivering an important lecture. âI heard youâre the top student. Representative, or something, they told me. Likeââ she turned to face you more directly, suddenly noticing the lack of a surname on your badge ââwow, you donât even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you donât even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?â
You flushed. Most of the students were tactful enough to not point that out to you, and if they did, they would return with a bruise soon after, credit to Satoru. But Satoru was in the hospital wing right now, and thankfully so, because you didnât want him making a scene here in the middle of your Charms class. Getoâs fingers brushed lightly against your arm; he was trying to calm you down. He didnât need to say anything; you already knew what he was thinking.
Shoko, sitting in front of you, shifted in her seat. Her fingers twitched toward her coat pocket, and you could swear you felt a chill run down your spine at the look she had on her face. Shokoâs glare was murderous, and her hand slowly moved to her doctorâs tools â just a few inches away from hurling them at the girlâs smug face.
âDonât bother,â Geto murmured under his breath. âLet her go on. Sheâs not worth the energy.â His eyes never left you as he spoke, a detached smile tugging at the corners of his lips. âIgnore her, Shoko.â
The girl leaned on your desk as you continued to determinedly stare at a spot on your notebook
âOh, but wait,â she continued haughtily, âyou mustâve been a mistake. I mean, the Gojo clan leaders, right? They couldnât possibly have any sense of judgement, could they? Considering who their son is, who heâs raised by. They probably just took in anyone, huh? Just to fill the numbers. I bet they didnât even care to see if you had any real worth.â
âYou donât know what youâre talking about,â Geto interrupted her calmly, his smile widening, a maddenned look in his eyes. âIf you donât stop right now, you might have to deal with a curse or two, because Iâm not exactly one to be afraid of duelling in front of teachers.â
Alina was unfazed, leaning back in her chair with a smirk plastered across her face. âOh, I so do. You canât silence me. The Gojo clan is only famous because they have money and influence â nothing more.â She leaned forward again, her eyes narrowing. âAnd the leaders? Theyâre a joke. All that power, and they still let their precious son â whatâs his name? Satoru? âplay around like the child he is. Tell me, do you ever wonder if heâs actually good for anything besides being the âchosen one?â Or is it just another piece of their precious familyâs empire?â
No.
That was it.
You snapped. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. Pulling out your wand from your pocket, you let the cold tip touch her throat. The girl immediately shut up, caught off guard and not having the time to reach her own wand, which was kept on the table her friends were sitting at.
âWhatâs wrong? Canât speak? Iâd love to hear more from that croak of a voice you possess. Please, go on with your pathetic guesses about my lineage.â
âDonât,â Geto warned, but you were too blinded by the ringing echo of her words about your family. Shoko was already gripping the side of her desk, looking like she wanted to step in.
âYou want me to speak more?â The girl said. âI can speak more. Because I know what you are. I would have felt sorry for you if you werenât so stuck up though. As they say, no power, no future.â
Before you could retort, or even say a quick charm to freeze her throat so it snapped in half, the door flew open, and a voice interrupted your anger.
"Both of you, in my office. Now."
It was the teacher, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, clearly fed up. Without missing a beat, you spun on your heel, flicking a glance at Geto and Shoko.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
It was oddly quiet in the headmasterâs office. You sat alone at the desk, gloves pulled snug over your hands, a rag in one and a half-polished trophy in the other. The cleaning did little to distract you from the frustration you felt.
The headmasterâs words still rang in your ears: âDetention builds character, and perhaps a lesson in self-control will serve you well.â
Self-control. As if it was your fault someone had insulted your family.
The soft creak of the door interrupted your thoughts. You stilled, expecting the headmaster to return and scold you for slacking off. Instead, a familiar white head of hair peeked around the doorframe.
"What theâ" you hissed. "Are you insane? If someone catches you hereâ"
âWow. You, of all people, getting detention?â
Satoru leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a lazy smirk on his face.
âWhat are you doing here?â you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
âCame to pick you up,â he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. âKuro was freaking out because he didnât know why we werenât at the gates, so I told him to head home without us.â
âYou didnât have toââ
âRelax. Heâs used to me pulling stuff like this.â Satoru strolled into the room, glancing around with mild interest before his eyes landed on the pile of trophies waiting to be polished. âSo... whatâs the story? Did you finally snap and hex someone?â
You rolled your eyes, turning back to the trophy in front of you. âShouldnât you be hiding somewhere? I mean, youâre not supposed to be here after school.â
âOh, Iâm cutting it. I figured detention with you would be more fun.â
You ignored him, hoping heâd get bored and leave, but Satoru was never one to take a hint. He perched on the edge of the desk beside you.
âCome on,â he said, nudging your arm lightly. âTell me what happened.â
You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to look at him. âNothing. Just... a disagreement.â
âA disagreement?â he repeated, raising an eyebrow. âThatâs all youâre giving me?â
You stayed silent, scrubbing furiously at a nonexistent smudge on the trophy. But your hands were shaking slightly, and he noticed.
His teasing expression softened. âHey,â he said quietly, leaning closer and nuzzling your hair. âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothingâs wrong,â you said quickly, but the crack in your voice betrayed you. You cursed under your breath, setting the trophy down harder than you intended.
âRight,â Satoru said dryly. âYou know lying is a sin, right?â
Before you could stop him, he reached out and plucked the rag from your hand. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a firm look.
âEnough,â he said, tossing the rag onto the desk. He grabbed your hands, tugging the gloves off gently, his touch warm and steady against your cold fingers.
âSatoru, what are youââ
âHelping,â he said simply.
You stared at him, your breath hitching slightly as he held your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles.
âYou shouldnât have done it,â he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. âGotten detention, I mean.â
Your throat tightened, and you looked away. âI didnât even do much. I just threatened her, âs allââ
âI know,â he said. âBut you didnât have to stand up for me like that.â
âYes, I did.â The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didnât care. âShe had no right to talk about your family like that. Or mine,â you added quietly.
Satoruâs expression softened, and he sighed, letting go of your hands only to pull you into a hug. Your breath stopped. It was so sudden and unexpected, but his arms around you were so warm and secure, and for a moment, you forgot just how cold the office was.
âThank you,â he murmured against your hair. âFor putting us first.â
You swallowed hard, your face pressed against his shoulder. You could feel his heartbeat. His vanilla scent filled your nostrils, and you couldnât help but sigh at the sensation.
Just what were you feeling?
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. The gesture was so gentle, so unexpected, that it sent a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps prickled along your arms, and your breath caught in your throat. Eyes widening on his chest.
Satoru pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. He studied your face for a moment, his gaze searching, before giving you a small, crooked smile.
âAlright there?â he asked softly.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. His smile widened, and he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze before stepping back.
âGood,â he said, picking up your gloves and the rag you had abandoned. âBecause I think itâs my turn to polish these things. Youâve done enough.â
You blinked at him, confused. âYou canât justââ
âToo late.â He waved the rag dramatically, grinning. âGo sit down and relax. Perfect students need to take a break to be imperfect once in a while.â
Despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âYeah, yeah.â He waved you off, already humming to himself as he began scrubbing.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
You sat with your detention homework in your garden after the headmaster had insisted on giving you some more âpunishmentsâ for letting Satoru in his office. On the stone bench, you glared at the crumpled detention slip in your hands. The words from earlier still rang in your ears.
Wow, you donât even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you donât even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?
You must've been a mistake
The nerve of that girl, whatever her name was. She had no right to talk like that. But as much as you hated to admit it, her words dug deep. Why didnât you have the surname? Why were you even here?
You sighed, staring down at your hands, throwing the slip away and watching it skid between bushes. The gate creaked, pulling you from your thoughts. Satoruâs mother stepped into the garden. She always seemed to know when something was wrong.
She smiled warmly as she approached. âTrouble at school?â
You let out a small huff, tossing the detention homework onto the bench. âSome girl decided to remind me I donât belong here,â you muttered. âSheâs not wrong. I mean, I donât even have your family name. Iâm just... here.â
Her expression softened, and she sat down beside you. âSuguru told me it was someone from the Kamo clan. She said that, did she?â
You nodded. âShe made it sound like Iâm just some random stray you all picked up out of pity.â
A shadow flickered across her face, but she stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully. Then she sighed softly and folded her hands neatly in her lap. âYou donât carry the Gojo surname yet because... you arenât meant to. One day, you will.â
You were confused. âOne day? What are you talking about?â
Her gaze softened further, and she reached for your hand. âYouâre not here because of pity. Youâre here because I care for you deeply. Youâre family to me. And... well, youâre engaged, my dear. To Satoru.â
The words hit you like a thunderclap. âEngaged?â you whispered.
She nodded gently. âIt was my decision. Not to strengthen ties or fulfill some tradition â I couldnât bear the thought of marrying you off to anyone else. Youâre important to me, and to this family. No one else would cherish you the way you deserve. No one else would love you the way I know he can.â
Your head was spinning. Engaged? To Satoru? The same Satoru who stole your dessert, teased you relentlessly, and drove you up the wall with his arrogance?
âDoes he know?â you managed to ask.
A small, amused smile tugged at her lips. âNot yet. Iâm waiting for the right time to tell him. You know how he is â heâd probably react with some ridiculous joke or dismiss it entirely without thinking it through.â
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. âYou mean Iâm supposed to sit on this bombshell while heâs running around like an overgrown child?â
She chuckled softly, reaching over to pat your shoulder. âItâs not so bad. Youâve already grown close to him, havenât you?â
Close. You couldnât deny it. In the past few years, you had gone from tolerating his antics to â well, something. The butterflies in your stomach betrayed you every time he smiled or stood too close.
But this? This was too much.
âWhy didnât you tell me sooner?â you asked weakly, peeking through your fingers.
âI wanted you to have time to figure out your feelings without the weight of this hanging over you,â she admitted. âAnd... I wasnât entirely sure when youâd be ready to hear it. But seeing you upset, questioning your place here, I couldnât keep it from you any longer. Forgive me, darling.â She stood then. âYouâre exactly where youâre meant to be,â she said gently. âNever let anyone make you doubt that.â
And with that, she disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone with the truth.
Engaged. To Satoru.
The butterflies in your stomach werenât just fluttering nowâthey were staging a full-on rebellion. You let out a groan, slumping back against the bench.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
Over a year had passed. The two of you were turning seventeen the next year, and with the increase in your age, the load of schoolwork increased too. The School of Royalty had seen so many changes. They were rebuilding the duelling grounds and organising even more clubs than before. Girls were mysteriously beginning to drop out of school, and you didnât want to know why. There were less than ten girls in your class of fifty, and you figured this number would reduce even more as women in nobility were hurriedly married off to distant kingdoms, forced to give up their education to serve as a showpiece for the men to flaunt.
You were thankful the Gojo clan saw you as more than that, or you wouldnât have been in the same class as your friends this year. You couldnât bear not seeing Utahime, Shoko, Suguru and of course, Satoru.
Satoru.
The one you had realized you didnât want if he wasnât looking at you at all times, if he wasnât talking to you at all times, or cracking jokes to you at all times. The one you had realized you wanted more of, more than what the two of you are now, more than what you two have ever been, more than friends, more than best friends; you wanted him more than anything in the world. Him, him, him, him. You wanted his eyes on you, his hands on you. You wanted everything about him. Everything. Every single thingâ
âHey, you alive?â His voice snapped you back to reality.
âHuh? Oh yeah.â
âI was saying,â he pulled a girl towards him by her hands and she landed on his chest with a dull thump. âThis is Alina.â
You stared at her. Triumphant looking face, lips giggling into the broad layer of his front.
Wait.Wasnât sheâ?
âYou might remember her,â Satoru pressed. You did. Vividly.
Oh.
âShe needs some duelling practice apparently, so sheâs gonna be watching us from there,â he points at the stands. âHope you donât mind.â
âOh, yeah, itâs okay,â you said in a voice you didnât know you owned. The words felt so heavy on your tongue, as if it was an entirely different person speaking them.Â
âGreat, thanks,â he ushered the girl back to the stands and leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead again. You blinked.
Oh, no, he didnât see it like that at all.To him, it was just a gesture he had grown used to doing. Yeah.
You stood across from him on the training field, your stance ready and tense. The sunlight was bright today, almost too bright, and you didnât know if it was the heat or the sudden emptiness you felt. Satoru smiled at you, but it didnât quite reach his eyes.
âYou ready?â he asked, voice nonchalant. It wasnât the usual teasing edge. The spark was missing.
You nodded.
âIâve got you today, Gojo,â you tried making the dumb jokes he used to make. You werenât sure if it was working, but you tried anyway.
The sparring session started, but something felt wrong. Satoruâs movements were slower than usual, his focus elsewhere. He kept glancing at the stands from time to time, as if trying to see if she was watching him. He didnât block your attack in time, letting you knock him down with ease.
âYou alright?â You bent down to help him up, but he just waved you off, a tight smile on his face.
âYeah, yeah. Just⌠tired, I guess,â he shrugged, avoiding your eyes.
Alina came running down the stands, her hands clutched on her chest, fussing over him while he waved her off too, getting up.
âAnother one?â âNo, thank you.â
That was the first time you had ever said no to him.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
Later that week, you walked into the cafeteria, hoping to find Utahime and grab a quick meal before your History class. You were halfway into the queue before you realized Utahime had Charms class right now. After all, she was a senior of yours; she would have more schoolwork than you. So you were about to take the tray you got to one of the empty tables alone, hoping to find someone else.
And you did find someone. Satoru sat across from Alina as comfortable as ever. They looked like they were on a date. Was this why he had skipped a class he had with you?
âOh, hey,â he greeted you when you approached, but his voice lacked its usual warmth. There was a coolness in it, like he wasnât really there.
The girlâs voice broke into the silence, bright and too eager. âI was just telling Satoru about how Iâm finally starting to get the hang of wand control now. I know heâs been busy with other stuff, but heâs still managed to help me out.â
You felt the hairs on your neck prickle.
âThat's great,â you said, keeping your tone neutral. âI'm sure Satoru is happy to help.â
You tried to keep your expression even as you sat down on their table. Wrong choice. Satoru, oblivious or indifferent, didnât seem to notice any sort of tension in the air. He smiled, nodding along to whatever the girl was saying, while you forced a smile and picked at your food.
You felt like an outsider.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
That same week, after a banquet of the noble families held at the Gojo clanâs immaculate residence, you were walking alone towards the girlsâ dorms when you overheard two voices seemingly arguing calmly. You pressed an ear onto the door hiding the people.
âYou donât seem to realize your Alina is the same girl who was insulting your own family,â Suguru was saying. âShe got us into trouble too. You werenât there so you donât know how bad she talked aboutââ
âI know sheâs not like how she was before,â Satoru interrupted loudly. âAnd I know you guys still have a problem with her, but youâve got to trust me, okay? Sheâs changed.â
Your heart sank. âChanged?â Suguru repeated bitterly. âReally? After everything she said about the Gojo clan?â
He didnât reply right away, but when he finally spoke, it was with that soft, almost apologetic tone.
âI get it. I really do. But sheâs⌠trying, okay? Sheâs not the same person.â
You clenched your jaw, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. You felt numb all over. Uprooting one leg from your position, you walked backwards, away from your heartbreak.
âI donât know if I can believe that, Satoru. Not after everything she did.â âI know, but please. Try, for me?â
Your back hit the pillar and you stopped. Slowly lifting feet one after the other, you walked. You didnât know where you were walking to, but you just walked. You didnât know what hurt more: the fact that he was asking you to trust her, or the fact that you wanted to â because you trusted him so much.
âThere you are!â Utahime caught up to you. âWhere did you go? How can you get lost in your own houseââ You lifted your face up to her, and she looked taken aback. She inhaled, wiping tears you never realized started falling after stinging your eyes so bad, and she asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice. âBaby, whatâs wrong?â
âUtahimeââ your voice broke.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
You were walking down the school halls, your mind preoccupied with your own thoughts as you made your way to the classroom. The noise of chatter and the shuffle of students faded into the background, making you realize you were starting to zone out again. You seemed to do that a lot these days.
âAnd I just know it will be you!â Alinaâs voice cut through, syrupy, too sweet to be sincere. You froze, stopping behind a pillar. They were standing conveniently near the same path you had to cross to get to your class. Great. Now you had to bite back any snide remarks you had because poor Satoru would be upset if you didnât.
You peeked out. Alina was leaning against the wall, her laughter light and airy as she spoke to Satoru, who was right beside her, looking at her with that familiar, careless smile he used to reserve for you, one that you had now grown to hate.
You could hear her complimenting him, the way she laughed too loudly at every word of his. âOh, Satoru, your technique today was amazing, as always! I honestly donât know just how you do it.â Her tone was sugary, and you cringed. You wanted to look away, but something held you in place, as if some invisible force was gripping you to that spot, making you watch the scene in front of you with red eyes and darkness underneath them.
Then you heard his voice. âCome on, Alina, youâre making me blush,â he chuckled playfully. He was oblivious, as usual (or maybe he wasnât, and he truly trusted this woman more than his friends). But you werenât. You noticed how her hands lingered on his arm a little too long, how her fingers curled around his sleeve possessively.
You couldnât breathe.
You turned, hoping to slip past unnoticed, but of course, she caught sight of you. There was a flicker of something dark in her eyes before she forced a smile onto her face, calling out in that voice that made your skin crawl.
âOh, hey!â she chirped, calling out your name. âYou donât mind sharing, do you?â
The words hit you like a slap. You were caught between disbelief and anger. How dare she speak to you like that? You glanced at Satoru, hoping he would interject, but he didnât. He was too busy focusing his attention on her like a complete idiot.
You looked down at the floor, clenching your teeth. âYou can have him,â you muttered. You didnât want to show her how much it hurt, but it was all too clear in your voice and actions.
Alinaâs smile faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing. âOh, are you sure?â she said, âIâm sure Satoru wouldnât mind at all. Heâs such a generous guy.â
You could hear her subtle challenge, the way she was almost daring you to react. But you didnât give her the satisfaction. Instead, you straightened up, forcing the words out with a calmness you didnât feel.
âIâm sure,â you said simply. Not waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked away as quickly as you could, your heart pounding in your chest.
Behind you, you could feel her eyes on your back, but you refused to turn around.
You hated her. You hated the way she acted so confident. You hated how she was so entitled. And you hated how Satoru, in all his charm and glory, refused to hear a word against her; how he couldnât see the way she was trying to wedge herself between not only the two of you but also your entire friend group.
It was always this way, wasnât it? The more you wanted him, the farther he seemed to slip out of reach.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
After a three hour long soak in your bathtub, you decided it was time to go back into your room without anyone noticing. You spent most of your time hiding away from everyone; your parents, your servants, and him anyway, so you doubted anyone would miss you. With a sigh, you wore your nightdress and pushed your bedroom door open.
Satoru was sitting on your bed, his chin in his palms as he stared at the floor, clearly deep in thought and waiting for you to return. The moment you walked in, his gaze snapped to you, and the tension in the room tripled.
âYouâre back,â he said. There was something in his voice â you couldnât point out what exactly it was, but you didnât like how it made you feel.
âWhat are you doing in my room?â The words came out harsher than you had intended them to be.
He didnât answer right away; just sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face before standing up and facing you fully. âWhy are you always so mean to her?â His voice was quieter now, more frustrated than usual.
You blinked, taken aback. "Mean to whom?" you asked, trying to play dumb.
âAlina,â he said. âWhy do you always treat her like that?â
You controlled the urge to roll your eyes, though you knew Satoru expected you to. You wanted to scream, but you held it back, just barely. âOh, you mean the girl whoâs been constantly hovering around you? The one who acts like she owns you?â You crossed your arms defensively. âSorry, I didnât realize I was supposed to cheer her on and clap for every little thing she does.â
Satoru scoffed, taking his face in his hands before looking up again. âYou donât have to be so cold all the time! Canât you just try to get along with her? Sheâs changed. Why canât you just see that?â
âChanged?â You couldnât stop yourself from laughing at his innocence. âSheâs the same girl who insulted your family. She insulted everything you stand for, everything you care about, and you think sheâs changed? Are you seriously that blind?â
His eyes darkened, and he gritted his teeth. âYouâre always so hung up on the past! Why canât you just move on?â
You shot him a look, disbelief swirling in your chest. âMove on?â Your voice was shaking with the effort of holding back everything you wanted to say. âWhy is it that youâre the only person who sees that she has changed? Why is it that everyone else around you swears she hasnât?â
Satoru didnât respond right away. Then, he took a deep breath in, as if it was taking every bone in his body to control his emotions to hit you at that very moment. âWhy do you care so much? Why canât you just give her a chance?â he asked, almost pleading with you.
You stared at him for a moment too long. âBecause,â you bit back, âSheâs using you. And youâre too caught up in your own world to even see it.â
He took a step toward you, voice rising now. âThatâs not true! Sheâs not using me! Sheââ
You threw your hands up in frustration. âYou donât get it, do you?â You were shouting now. âShe is using you, Satoru! And Iâm the one whoâs supposed to stand here and watch while you defend her? While you act like sheâs some saint whoâs done nothing wrong?â
Satoruâs patience snapped, and his expression hardened. He couldnât stand anymore of you making assumptions about her anymore. âYou donât even belong in this house! Why do you think you have a say in anything Iâm doing? Youâre not even part of this!â He took a step toward you, his eyes dark with anger, a final insult.
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldnât breathe. The blood drained from your face as everything came crashing down around you.
âOh,â was all you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper as your eyes filled with tears. You couldnât speak. You couldnât even look at him. You felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces in your chest.
Satoruâs expression faltered, but it was too late now.
âLeave,â you whispered through gritted teeth.
He hesitated for a second, looking like he wanted to say something more. But he didnât. With a sharp breath, he turned and walked toward the door.
The second the door slammed shut behind him, you collapsed onto your bed, your hands clutching at the sheets as sobs wracked your body. You cried harder than you ever had before â louder, deeper, until you felt like you couldnât breathe. Your chest ached with every gasp, every sob, the pain of his words echoing in your mind.
You donât even belong in this house!
He was right.
You donât even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch?
She was right.
It is the spawn of Satan himself!
They were all right, all absolutely right, werenât they?
Come with me, daughter.
It was a lie.
You know I wonât leave you.
Lie.
She doesnât need some random guy when sheâs got me.
Lie, lie, lie!
You know lying is a sin, right?
You clutched your chest hard. You didnât know how long you cried, but when the tears finally stopped, all that remained was emptiness. A hollow space where something you had always held onto seemed to disappear.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
âWhat are you doing here?â you asked coldly.
He shrugged, his usual smirk flickering to life. âJust passing by.â
âPassing by my room?â you shot back, though your voice was devoid of any emotion.
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. âMaybe⌠I wanted to talk.â
âWhat do you want?â
He hesitated, just for a moment, before forcing a laugh. âI donât know. How are the studies? Still out to prove youâre the best in the room?â
Your expression didnât change, and the awkwardness between you grew even more.
âAlso,â he chuckled nervously, âwhat did you say to Utahime? I was almost killed thrice in the last two days.â
âIf you donât have anything important to say, Gojo, move.â You stepped past him, unlocking your door. You had begun locking it since the incident that night, to avoid him sneaking in when you were away and to avoid anyone walking in on you bawling your eyes out, trying to drown the repetitive voices in your head with theories about spells and charms.
âWhy are you being like this?â His voice stopped you. He paused, watching you fiddle with the lock, clearly taking the hesitating actions as a cue to continue. âLike⌠like you donât care.â His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, they werenât the Satoru you knew. There was no smugness, no teasing â just guilt.
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep your voice steady. âYouâre imagining things,â you said, pushing the door open.
âAm I?â His tone sharpened, and he took a step closer. âYouâve been avoiding me for weeks. You wonât even look at me.â
âMaybe I have nothing to say to you,â you replied, turning to him to see his expression one last time before sorrow overtook your senses again.
His shoulders were stiffened, and for the first time this night, he couldnât meet your gaze.
âThatâs what I thought,â you said, your voice quieter now. âYou know exactly why, Satoru. You just donât want to admit it.â
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. âI didnât mean it,â he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
âGoodnight, Satoru,â you said, slamming the door in his face before he could say anything else.
The silence that followed was deafening, and on the other side of the door, he lingered. You waited, holding your breath as you leaned against the wood, but no sound came.
And just like that, the distance between you grew wider.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
Your school year was nearing the end, and summer was around the corner. The days before that had been a blur. You had avoided Satoru like the plague, throwing yourself deeper into your books and classes. Even your classmates had noticed the change, though none dared to bring it up to your face.
Except for Shoko.
âAre you okay?â she asked one afternoon, cornering you in the library.
âIâm fine,â you lied, not looking up from your Curses: A Guide to Identify the Weakness book.
âNo, youâre not.â She pulled up a chair, crossing her arms as she stared at you. âYouâre avoiding him, heâs avoiding everyone, and the rest of us are stuck in the middle of whatever this is.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about,â you said flatly.
She groaned, leaning back in her chair. âYouâre lucky this is me and not Utahime. Just so you know, he sent a message.â
That caught your attention. Slowly, you closed your book and looked at her. âWhat message?â
âHe said heâs done with Alina,â Shoko said softly. âSaid he wouldnât talk to her anymore.â
âWhy are you telling me this?â you asked quietly.
âBecause,â Shoko said, standing up, âyouâre both being stupid. And Iâm sick of watching my friends tear themselves apart over something that could be fixed with one honest conversation.â
âHonest conversation?â you repeated bitterly. âWhatâs there to say? He made his priorities clear, Shoko.â
âDid he?â She raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. âOr did you just decide that for him because youâre too scared to hear what he actually thinks?â
Your jaw tightened. âYou werenât there, Shoko. You didnât hear the things he said.â
âYouâre right, I wasnât. But Iâve seen how miserable heâs been these past few weeks,â she countered. âHe wonât say it, but heâs been beating himself up about it. He knows he messed up.â
âAnd what about me?!â you snapped, your voice harsher than you intended. âIâm supposed to just forget everything? Pretend like I wasnât the one he hurt?â
Shoko sighed, her expression softening. âNo. But youâre not giving him a chance to make it right. Heâs been trying to talk to you â hell, he even took all the hits heroically when Utahime nearly ripped him apart.â
You blinked, caught off guard. âUtahime â what?â
âOh, yeah,â Shoko said. âShe had a few choice words for him. Mightâve included running him over by her carriage horses. Not my place to repeat them, but letâs just say she wasnât thrilled with how he handled things.â
Despite yourself, a small, bitter smile tugged at your lips. âGood for her.â
âLook,â Shoko said, softening her tone again, âyou donât have to forgive him right away. But at least talk to him. Heâs done with Alina, and itâs obvious youâre not over him. Donât let this thing between you two fester any longer.â
You stared at her for a long moment, her words sinking in despite the stubborn walls youâd built around yourself. âIâll think about it,â you said finally.
âGood,â Shoko said with a satisfied nod. âJust⌠donât take too long. Weâre not kids forever, you know.â
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The knock on Satoruâs bedroom door felt louder than you intended. You had rehearsed this moment in your mind a dozen times already. What were you supposed to say again?
Hey. Itâs me. Haha.
No no no. Hey, how have you been?
No, ugh. Hey, nice weather?
Still, when the door opened and his bright blue eyes met yours, every word you had prepared seemed to vanish. The two of you only stared at each other, he in surprise and you in embarrassment.
âHey,â he said, trying to break the silence.
âHey,â you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
The silence stretched between you for a moment before he stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. You did, though your fingers fidgeted nervously at your sides.
The room looked messy. The bedsheets were sprawled around as if he had been tossing and turning all night earlier. The curtains were closed so the room was in utter darkness. Yet, you needed no amount of light to see the look of sleep-deprivation he carried on his face.
Was it because of you? Because you had acted this way? Was it because he was regretting what he said to you earlier (he should, a voice in your head said, but you pushed it away)? Or was he failing his classes again? His stream was different from yours so you couldnât meet him in school either. Or was it perhaps because ofâ
âI wasââ you both started at the same time, cutting each other off awkwardly.
You let out a breathy laugh, and for the first time in weeks, his lips pulled upward, a glimmer of the boy you knew. âYou first,â he offered, stepping closer.
âI was going to say that IâŚâ Your words faltered as he reached for your hand. His fingers, warm and tentative, brushed yours before interlocking gently. âOh. Wow.â He smiled at you, pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head. âI missed this,â you admitted finally, your voice breaking slightly.
âIâm sorry,â he said immediately, softer than you had expected him to be. âFor everything. For being such aââ
A sudden knock interrupted him, and a servantâs voice called from the hall. âYoung Master, Miss â Madam requests your presence in the meeting room immediately.â
Satoru groaned under his breath, but you let go of his hand, smiling as well now. âWeâll talk later,â you murmured, turning to leave.
The Gojo clanâs meeting room was one thing, but the Gojo familyâs meeting room felt even more imposing. High ceilings, ornate woodwork, and an air of superiority â that was the only way anyone could describe it. Mother and Father sat at the head of the low table, their expressions unreadable.
âYouâre here,â his father said. He gestured for you and Satoru to sit, and you did, sitting in a formal position with your hands on your knees, feet touching the soft pillow under you. His mother only nodded at both of you. âWeâve received an invitation from the Kamo Clan.â
Kamo Clan? You had read about a legend of theirs in your history class. A man who had dropped himself to the bottom of the hells indulging with curses to create powerful heirs. The Kamo Clan had an awful reputation â ancient, powerful, and, if rumours were to be believed, sinister.
Beside you, you felt Satoru stiffen, and whisper only one word.
âAlina?â
Of course! How could you have forgotten that? The girl who had been plaguing your school ever since she set foot in it was Kamo Alina. Suddenly, what his father said didnât matter anymore. The way his mother was staring between you and him didnât matter anymore. What was about to happen in his room that time didnât matter.
âThe banquet,â Satoruâs father continued, and it took a lot of effort from you to keep listening, âis an exclusive gathering of noble families from across the globe. It will take place in the south, and attendance is mandatory for representatives of our house.â
You gathered the courage to steal a glance at Satoruâs expression. The look on his face was enough to tell you he wasnât surprised by the connection. He knew. He had known it all this time. Your hands curled into fists under the table, your nails biting into your palms, probably leaving marks too.
His motherâs voice said coolly. âPrepare yourselves. Youâll leave at the end of the week. Dismissed.â
You didnât wait for Satoru as you stood abruptly, your pillow gliding across the floor. You made your way back to your room, trying not to look back at his face, but you didnât make it far before he caught up with you.
âWait!â He grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him. âItâs not what you think.â
You yanked your arm free, glaring at him. âItâs not what I think? Really, Gojo? Because I think you lied to me.â
âI didnâtââ
âYou said you werenât in contact with her!â you snapped.
âIâm not! This isnât me â itâs her family. Theyâre the onesââ
âOh, so her family conveniently sends in an invitation to us to attend their stupid gathering at somehow the right time?â
âI donât know? Look,â He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, not at you, no, but at that darn family. âI told you, Iâm not in contact with her. That is the truth. I havenât spoken to her sinceââ
âSince when?â you interrupted, stepping closer. âSince you told Shoko you were done? Or since you got caught? Because it feels like right now, Iâm finding out the actual truth.â
âThat is not the truth, please just listââ
âStop,â you cut him off. You had had enough. âItâs okay. I donât know why you think I even care. I âdonât belong hereâ, remember?â
âThatâs not what I meant!â he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.
You stepped back, shaking your head with a sigh. âDonât follow me.â
âPlease,â he pleaded, his voice softer now, desperate. But you didnât look back as you turned and headed for the courtyard, away from him and his stupid, stupid noble traditions.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The journey to the Southern estate was agonisingly long, but then again, you were from the East, and crossing entire landmarks took more than weeks by unruly waters. After the travel on the Gojo estateâs huge ship, your family was met with a stout, snotty man representing the Kamo clan, in charge of dropping you to their estate by comfortable carriages. The carriage rocked back and forth, and the countryside unfolded before you, but you couldnât bring yourself to appreciate any of it. Your focus remained on the window, your reflection glaring back at you. Anything to avoid looking at him.
Satoru sat beside you, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently against the carriage floor. The silence was so oppressive it practically screamed at both of you to make up already. His mother sat across from you, but her usual composed expression faltered slightly as she glanced between you and her son.
After what felt like an eternity, Satoru let out an exaggerated sigh, his head lolling back against the seat. "Are you seriously going to do this the whole trip?"
You didnât move. âDo what?â
âThis,â he said, waving a hand vaguely in your direction. âActing like I donât exist.â
âIâm not acting,â you replied coldly. âYouâre still breathing, arenât you?â
He bristled at your tone, his foot tapping faster. âWow. Real mature.â
You didnât dignify that with a response, instead shifting slightly in your seat to angle yourself even farther away from him. The silence returned, heavier now, and his mother finally cleared her throat, breaking it.
âIs everything all right?â she asked delicately, her eyes lingering on you longer.
âYes,â you answered quickly, too quickly. âEverythingâs fine.â
Her brow lifted slightly, but she said nothing, her gaze darting to her son. He sat rigid, his jaw clenched as he poked his head out of his own window, refusing to meet her eyes.
âFine,â Satoru muttered after a beat, as if to echo you. His tone was harsh, though he didnât look at either of you.
His motherâs lips pressed into a thin line, but she didnât press further. The realisation seemed to dawn on her that her carefully curated plans for her sonâs life â whatever they might be â were starting to crack at the seams.
Satoruâs foot finally stilled, but his irritation hadnât seemed to disappear yet. After another stretch of unbearable silence, he tried again, his voice softer this time. "Look, Iâm not going to apologize for something I didnât do.â
âGood thing Iâm not expecting one, then.â
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. âCan you at least try to meet me halfway here? This is ridiculous.â
You finally turned to look at him. âWhatâs ridiculous is pretending any of this matters. I shouldnât even be here, right? So why donât you justââ
âThatâs enough,â his mother cut in, her tone sharper than you had ever heard it. Her gaze pinned you both in place. âWeâre almost there. I suggest you both compose yourselves before we arrive.â
You bit the inside of your cheek, retreating back into silence, but not before catching the slight smirk on Satoruâs face. It wasnât amusement, though â it was frustration barely held in check. He didnât say another word, leaning back against the seat and staring resolutely at the ceiling as the carriage rocked along. You pressed your lips together and turned back to the window.
That was when you saw it.
The estate loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette framed against the dusky sky. It wasnât grand in the way the Gojo mansion was. No, this place had an oddly familiar air of foreboding. Its high walls and shadowed towers looked like they were whispering secrets and things long forgotten in history. The closer you got, the more a strange chill settled over you, prickling the back of your neck.
Goosebumps ran down your arms as the carriage rolled closer. The gates opened with an almost eerie slowness. There was billowing mist surrounding the entire area, and it made the scene even more creepy. You couldnât explain it, but something about this place just felt⌠wrong. It wasnât just the estateâs imposing presence or the way the evening light seemed to bend around it â it was something you couldnât place at all.
You felt like something bad, really bad was going to happen here, or perhaps had already happened. A chill ran down your spine when you recalled the pages of absolute horror you had seen attached to the restricted books in your library, and their vibes seemed to match that of this place.
Beside you, Satoru shifted uncomfortably. You glanced at him for a moment and saw that his confident facade had slipped. His eyes lingered on the estate, as if trying to figure out just what it was that made the place seem so uncanny and unreal, like it was something straight out of a horror novel.
As the carriage came to a stop, his mother stepped out first, poised as ever. She didnât seem fazed by the oppressive air of the place, but then again, she rarely showed any cracks in her demeanour.
You followed, your legs unsteady as they hit the gravel path. The chill hadnât left you, clung to your skin. Satoru came last, his usual swagger dimmed.
âRemember,â his mother murmured as the servants approached, her voice low and pointed, âappearances are everything. Do try not to embarrass the family.â
You nodded stiffly, but deep down, all you could think about was how much you wanted to leave this place. Sighing and ignoring the tremble of your gut, you held your own hands and entered the estate.
The estateâs grand entrance hall was vast, its high ceilings decorated with intricate wooden carvings that spiralled into ominous shapes. A line of servants stood on either side, their heads bowed low in synchronised precision. âWelcome to the Kamo estate,â they chanted together, their voices echoing.
A servant stepped forward, addressing Satoruâs father (and not batting an eye to his mother) with an apologetic tone. âWe regret to inform you that our â that is, the Kamo clanâs â leaders could not greet you in person. Urgent matters required their immediate attention, but they send their sincerest apologies and look forward to meeting you tomorrow.â
Satoruâs father met his wifeâs eyes, and she nodded curtly, and the servant's eyes widened as if he realised the error he made by ignoring her and addressing only the male leader in your group. âIt is of no consequence,â she replied coolly.
As the servants moved to escort you all further inside, you couldnât help but glance around. The estate was undeniably grand, but there was something cold and uninviting about it. The polished marble floors gleamed under flickering chandeliers, and the thick, musty air clung to your skin. It felt more like a mausoleum than a home.
The servants led you through endless corridors, the silence broken only by the sound of footsteps on stone. Every now and then, you passed ornate doors or shadowy alcoves, each one looking more foreboding than the last. You tried to shake the feeling of being watched, but the creeping sensation never left.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a door, and the servant gestured to it with a bow. âThis will be your room,â he said before retreating with the others.
You stepped inside hesitantly. The room was smaller, far removed from where they were escorting Satoru now, and you had a feeling his would be uncomfortably close to Alinaâs. The room was smaller, colder, and had an air of neglect, as if it hadnât been opened in years. Dust coated the surfaces, and the faint scent of damp wood lingered in the air. There were faint scratches on the walls as if someone had clawed at them long ago. The wallpaper had started peeling in places, and the furniture looked untouched, as though someone had decided only yesterday to disturb the fifteen year old cobwebs. The architecture, the layout, even the faint smell of mildew â it was unsettlingly familiar, though you couldnât quite place why.
Satoruâs mother appeared behind you. She took one look around the room, and her eyebrows twitched into a carefully concealed scowl. âWell,â she said. âThis is... quaint, to say the least.â
You turned to face her, unsure of how to respond. She gestured vaguely at the room, the bare walls, the dull, muted colours. âIf you find this unsuitable, arrangements can be made. Iâm sure a clan as proud as Kamo wouldnât want their guests to feel...â She paused, her lips curling in distaste, âuncomfortable.â
You swallowed hard, shaking your head. âNo, mother,â you said, forcing a polite smile. âThis is fine.â
Her brow arched, as though she didnât quite believe you, but she didnât press. âAs you wish,â she said softly, turning on her heel and leaving without another word.
The door closed behind her with a heavy thud, and the silence of the room enveloped you. You exhaled slowly, taking in the sparse furnishings, the musty air. You hated the idea of being a burden, but now, as you sat on the bed, watching it creak loudly, you wondered if you had made a mistake.
Late that night, you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to get yourself to sleep.
âOne sheep, two sheep, three sheepââ
What would he be doing right now? Was he still upset?
âFuck, lost count again.â You sighed loudly. This was probably the sixth time you had tried but failed to sleep. All because of him. You closed your eyes tightly to try again.
âOne sheep, two shââ
Shit. Natureâs call.
You widened your eyes and glanced at the door, dreading the thought of stepping out into the pitch-black halls of the manor. Your room didnât even have a washroom, which seemed absurd for a house of this size and considering who it belonged to. Clenching your jaw, you tried to distract yourself from the pressure in your bladder by examining the room, but there was nothing to look at. No paintings, no books, no trinkets â just plain walls and dull furniture.
With a sigh, you finally pushed yourself up, deciding to find a maid to help you find the washroom. You lit a candelabrum sitting next to your bed to help you navigate the area. The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the walls. You tried to stay calm, but every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet made you jump.Â
You walked, and walked, and walked. The layout of the house was like a maze in itself, and every turn seemed to lead to another identical hallway. Within the span of minutes, you found yourself descending a set of stairs you didnât remember seeing before.
The air grew colder. The scent of damp stone and decay was thick in your nostrils. You paused at the bottom of the staircase, realizing with a jolt of horror that you were in what looked like the basement of the manor. The little light coming from your candles barely illuminated the space.
A wave of nausea hit you. The place smelled like dead rats, but somehow, despite your lack of sight in the room, a lot of scenes seemed to cross your mind. Shadows in the halls. Muffled screams. The overwhelming fear of being dragged into this very basement to be punished for something you couldnât understand. Your eyes caught on the walls, and you lifted your candelabrum up and stepped closer. There were faint marks carved into the stone. Tally marks. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.
Your hand reached out, trembling, brushing against the ridges. A flash of a memory hit you â your hand gripping a piece of stone fully covered in blood, dragging it across a surface, one line after another. But where had it been? In a classroom, on the board? No â this was something else, something darker. Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, the nausea overwhelming.
âMiss?â A voice shattered the silence, and you whipped around to see a maid standing at the top of the staircase. Her face was pale, her brows furrowed, as if you had offended every fibre of her body by stepping down into this basement. âWhat are you doing down here?â
You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. The smell of the basement, the tally marks, the scenes â they clung to you, and you could only shake your head.
âLet me escort you back to your room. You shouldnât ever be hereâ
You nodded mutely, following her up the stairs. She led you back through the winding halls. By the time you reached your room, the trembling in your legs had mostly subsided, though the chill of the basement still remained. She opened the door for you, offering a rigid nod before disappearing back into the dark hallways. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and exhaled shakily.
Your hands were still trembling slightly as you sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady your breathing. The scenes â fragmented, disjointed â played on a loop in your mind. What were they? Forgotten memories? Flashbacks? The tally marks, the muffled screams. They were just like something out of your worst nightmares. You buried your face in your hands, feeling the sting of tears prickling at your eyes.
A soft knock at the door startled you. You hastily wiped your eyes, rising to your feet. When you opened it, Satoruâs mother stood there. Her expression softened slightly when she saw you.
âYouâve been crying,â she said matter-of-factly.
âIâm fine,â you said quickly, stepping aside to let her in.
She swept into the room, her gaze flickering briefly to the empty, barren space. âThis room is unacceptable,â she said bluntly. But then, as she turned to face you, something in her eyes looked gentler, almost human â something she had always carried around you. âYou should have asked for it to be changed, darling.â
You shook your head. âI didnât want to be a bother. Itâs fine, really.â
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she studied you. Then, to your surprise, she stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. âYouâre far too used to accepting the minimal,â she said quietly. âThatâs not what you deserve.â
You blinked, startled by the tenderness in her tone. Before you could respond, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her cool hand lingering briefly against your cheek. The gesture was so unexpected, so maternal, that your throat tightened with emotion.
âI will speak to the servants in the morning,â she said, straightening but not pulling away. âAnd if you ever feel uncomfortable â ever â you will tell me. Do you understand?â
You nodded wordlessly, unable to trust your voice.
âGood.â She adjusted the edge of your sleeve with a small, practised motion, as if tidying you was a second nature for her. âGet some rest. You look exhausted.â
She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over her shoulder. âAnd whatever it is that has you so unsettled tonight... I will see to it. Do not let it weigh on your mind. The past has a way of creeping into the present, but you are stronger than it.â
The door closed softly behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room.
For the first time since you had arrived at the estate, you felt a sliver of comfort.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
Over the next week, your efforts to blend in with the household paid off in more ways than one. Most of the maids, initially wary of you as a noble guest, had warmed up to your presence. They appreciated your willingness to help with menial tasks and often joked that you were more reliable than some of their own peers. Soon enough, their dislike for the Kamo family began to slip into their conversations.
It started one evening when you were helping two maids, Haru and Tomoko, carry water from the wells. They spoke in hushed voices, glancing around nervously as though the courtyardâs walls themselves might eavesdrop.
âIâve always said the Kamo family has skeletons in their closet,â Haru muttered. âWell, in this case, theyâre probably in the basement. Youâve seen it, havenât you?â
You nodded. âI have. Itâs disturbing. What were those tally marks on the walls?â
Tomoko sighed, setting her bucket down with a huff. âNo one really knows for sure. Some say itâs the number of people tortured down there. Others think itâs the number of people who died. Either way, nothing good ever happened in that place.â
Before you could press further, another maid, Aoi, cut in sharply. She was older, sharper, and rigid. Yet you had watched her pull the buckets back up from the walls with such brute force that it was no wonder she was still working for the clan despite her age. âEnough! You shouldnât fill her head with stories. Sheâs a noblewoman; this isnât her concern.â Her eyes avoided yours, fixed firmly on the stone path.
Haru rolled her eyes dramatically. âOh, relax, Ms Aoi. Sheâs not like the rest of them. Sheâs helped us more than half the family ever has. Why shouldnât she know whatâs really going on?â
Tomoko nodded enthusiastically. âExactly! And sheâs already seen the basement. Itâs not like weâre revealing some great hidden treasure. Besides, itâs about time someone outside this house knew what the Kamo family is really like.â
Aoi crossed her arms, her frown deepening. âAnd what good will it do her to know? The Kamo family isnât to be trifled with. Youâre putting her in danger â and yourselves, too, for that matter.â
You cut in gently, trying to defuse the tension. âI appreciate the concern, Ms Aoi, truly. But if the Kamo family has nothing to hide, then why should talking about it be dangerous?â
Haru smirked. âSee? She gets it.â
Tomoko leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. âDo you want to know what I heard? Years ago, when the punishments in the basement were still happening, the head of the house would personally oversee them. And sometimesâŚâ she trembled visibly. âSometimes, they werenât even punishing people who broke the law. Just anyone they didnât like. Servants who fell out of favour. Merchants who got on their bad side.â
Haru shuddered. âThey say the screams would echo up through the floorboards. Thatâs why most of the older staff refuse to even talk about it. Too many bad memories. There is also the ghost of that little girlââ
âThatâs enough!â Aoi snapped. âThe girl doesnât need every grisly detail.â
âOh, come on, Aoi. You hate them as much as we do. Donât act like youâre above this.â
âWhether I hate them or not is irrelevant,â Aoi huffed. âYouâre still being reckless. If anyone hears about this...â
Tomoko grinned mischievously. âAnd whoâs going to tell them? You?â
Aoi gave an exasperated sigh but said nothing.
That night, you wrote letters to Shoko and Utahime, recounting the strange conversation and the haunting basement. You might have mentioned a glimpse of Satoru, too, though your thoughts on him were far more conflicted.
Shokoâs reply was predictably blunt.
Sounds grim. Torture rooms, tally marks, mysterious deaths â real classic Kamo vibes. Maybe theyâre compensating for their familyâs lack of charm. But, you know, not my circus, not my corpses. Still, were they tortured with surgical precision? If so, let me know which tools were involved. Iâve got a scalpel set if you want to reenact it. Besides, Iâve always wanted to see how far someone could go with a bone saw and no anaesthetic. For science, of course. Stay alive. Bye.
PS: If you find any good booze down there, bring some back for me.
Utahimeâs letter was far less chill.
That two-timing bastard is probably off doing handstands to impress some girl who can't tell her right from left. Honestly, Iâm waiting for your mother to tell him the truth already. If he doesnât start acting like your fiance, Iâm going to come over there and bury him in that damn basement myself. If I had to spend more than two breaths in his company, Iâd kill him. Actually, Iâd kill him for free. Just say the word.
PS: If I didnât love you, I wouldâve told you to go into that basement again just for fun. But I do love you, so stay safe.
The Kamo clan leaders remained an enigma. Somehow, their presence was so secretive that their portraits were absent from every book and document in the library. You wondered if even the servants themselves had seen these people. âMaybe theyâre so ugly theyâre too ashamed to show their faces?â Shoko had suggested in one letter, and you still snorted remembering that.
From all your time in the estateâs library, you could only find their names â Kamo Daijiro and Kamo Akane. Creepy. You also learned they had two daughters: Alina, the eldest, and her twin who had married into another prestigious family and no longer lived at the estate.
You still hadnât caught so much as a glimpse of Daijiro or Akane, but that would change soon. A grand gathering was scheduled for the following night, and the maids were already preparing for their arrival in the estate.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The Kamo maids worked on you, dabbing floral scents to your neck and pulling a corsage on your hands. Behind you, Aoiâs hands deftly pulled at the laces of the corset you were reluctantly being tied into. Earlier, an unexpected scuffle had broken out between the Gojo clan maids and the Kamo maids when the latter had shown up, intending to tend to you.
âSheâs our priority,â one of the Gojo maids had sniffed, her arms crossed.
âNot anymore,â retorted Tomoko. âShe is living in the Kamo residence right now. Your loyalty isnât required here.â
âWell, sheâs from the Gojo clan!â snapped another maid, her tone haughty.
âYes, and?â Haru shot back. The Gojo maids had given up after a reassuring smile from you, muttering about how they are only leaving because âthe Lady asked soâ.Â
Now, Aoi was tugging the corset strings tighter. The conversation had shifted from the petty bickering of maids to something far darker.
âYou wouldnât believe the stories this house holds,â one of the younger maids murmured, a shiver in her voice. âDo you know about the little girl?â
âWhat girl?â you asked. You hadnât seen the story of any little girl mentioned in the books you had read, but you had distinctly remember a mention of her story in an earlier conversation with these maids.
âMs Aoi knows about it best!â Haru exclaimed.
Aoiâs face darkened as she let out a long sigh. âIt happened about a decade ago,â she began. âA child had appeared on the doorstep, barely an year old, mind you. The family had taken her in, but of course, they did not treat her like a daughter. They had left her in the care of us servants. I was like her mother,â she said proudly. âShe had turned three, I still remember, it was her birthday that night. She spilled a glass of expensive red wine on Lady Akaneâs dress. It wasnât even the girlâs fault. She was just a baby, carrying a tray too big for her tiny hands. But Sir Daijiro⌠he doesnât forgive mistakes.â
The other maids exchanged uneasy glances as Aoi huffed loudly, pausing her hands on your laces to wipe stray tears. âThe girl was dragged to the basement, where they lock away the disobedient. She⌠she never came out.â
Your breath caught in your throat. âShe was⌠killed?â
âYes,â whispered one of the younger maids, her voice trembling. âItâs said her ghost still lingers. Sometimes we hear her cries late at night. And the mist that hangs over the estate? They say itâs her curse â her anger at the clan.â
Aoi nodded grimly. âI was here. I wasnât much younger than I am now, but I couldnât do anything to save her. All I could do was sneak her scraps of food and try to mend her torn dresses after⌠after the punishments.â
You were horrified. âPunishments? For a child?â
Aoiâs tears couldnât be held back anymore. âShe was just a baby,â she croaked thickly. âIâd hear her cry at night, calling for her mother. And when⌠whenâŚâ Haru handed Aoi a cloth to wipe her face. âWhen she died⌠it was the moment I stopped believing the Kamo family had any humanity left.â
The room fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of Aoiâs sniffling and your shallow breathing. âHow can someone be so cruel?â you murmured.
âThatâs why weâre all so terrified,â Tomoko confessed. âIf they could do that to a child, what chance do we have? Everyone here walks on eggshells, afraid to make even the smallest mistake. The leaders havenât changed. Theyâre still the same people who let that little girl die.â
Aoiâs hands resumed their work, tying the last knot on the corset. The maids stepped back. You glanced at the mirror, seeing not just your reflection but the haunted expressions of the women around you.
The little girlâs story stuck with you, her cries echoing in your mind. If the Kamo clan could be so ruthless to a defenceless child, what horrors could they unleash on those who dared to cross them?
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The grand gathering was suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of incense and expensive perfumes, the soft hum of conversation occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter. You had probably sent about fifty letters in all to Shoko, Utahime and even Geto asking them if they would come to the South, and they all had replied with repetitive noâs. You had tried to keep your head down, avoiding the heavy gazes of the Kamo guests. But you were glad to see that Satoru, for once, was sticking close to you, uncharacteristically quiet. He hadnât so much as glanced at Alina all evening, and perhaps even all this time during the visit if you were lucky. Not that you cared, of course.
Earlier, when you had overheard his mother asking him to keep his distance from âthat Kamo girlâ, and you remembered how he had rolled his eyes so hard you thought they would have gotten stuck.
âFine,â he had said with mock drama. âBut only because Iâm such an understanding guy. And because I want you to stop looking like youâre ready to shank me with a chopstick.â
Now, true to his word, his focus was entirely on you. Every time you caught him looking elsewhere, it was never in her direction. He had even waved off her attempts to engage him, subtly turning his back to her as though she didnât exist.
âSee?â he murmured, leaning down to your ear. âHavenât even looked her way. You believe me now, right?â
You arched a brow, unimpressed. âYou donât get points for doing the bare minimum, Gojo.â
âBare minimum?â he gasped, and you smiled a little. His response reminded you of the âold timesâ, as they were now. âThis is maximum effort for me! Have you met me?â
âHush now, both of you,â his father interrupted. âTheyâre here.â
The Kamo clan heads arrived, and the air shifted. The room quieted, all eyes turning to the doors as Daijiro and Akane Kamo entered. Their presence was magnetic, commanding. As they moved through the crowd, the guests bowed slightly, parting to make way. You moved your eyes to the carpeted floor. You didnât want to introduce yourself to someone who would torture a little girl to death, for Godâs sake.
But then curiosity overtook your senses. You had been thinking of what they would look like for ages. They were like a mystery you had been picking apart ever since you stepped foot into that basement. Now was finally the moment you would get to see the leaders who hid from newspapers, books and even their own servants. You finally looked up. And the moment you saw their faces, the world seemed to tilt.
Sharp cheekbones. Piercing eyes. Their very presence struck a chord you hadnât felt in years. Distantly, hauntingly familiarâŚ
Your parents.
âHush, little baby, everything you need is right here,â your mother cooed, and you walked to where he was leading you. âYes, thatâs it. There are your favourite snacks here, and all your favourite toys. Come on. Go there.â
But you found something else to interest you. Aoi, the maid, was standing right there, watching everything, and you wanted to walk to where she was instead of your bad mother.
âStupid girl, where are you going?â your father pushed you from behind into the basement, and you fell over its many steps. Falling, falling, falling. By the time you reached the bottom, your face felt hot with some weird liquid.
âThis is your new house â for now,â your mother said finally, walking down the steps. âYou have given me enough trouble. From the moment I was cornered in that dark alley, alone and frightened, till now â you have been nothing but trouble. You are a constant reminder of what happened to me that night. You shall die, die!â
âThere, there, now, Akie,â you watched your father cradle your motherâs head in his chest. You tilted your head, and the force almost made you fall back to the ground. âThe child will no longer remain here. I have the most secretive merchants arriving from the North to here. They will be taking this⌠thing away from us, away from you. And then you shall finally be free.â
The realisation hit like a crashing wave, pulling the air from your lungs. Your vision blurred, and your chest tightened. It was too much. Too much. It was unbearable.
Without thinking, you reached out, your trembling hand finding Satoruâs mother instead of him. Her warm, steady grasp grounded you back to reality, and she turned to you immediately in concern. She studied you for just half a second before realising something was wrong, horribly wrong.
âCome,â she said softly, guiding you out of the hall without a momentâs hesitation.
Satoruâs voice trailed behind you, confused. âWhere are youââ
âStay with your father,â his mother ordered firmly over her shoulder.
Once outside, the cool night air hit your face, and it made you realise the warm wetness flooding your cheeks and stinging at your eyes. She led you to a quiet corner of the garden, still holding you as tightly as possible.
âWhatâs wrong?â she asked gently, her eyes scanning your face. âAre you unwell?â
The words tumbled out before you could stop them. âTheyâre my parents.â
Her brow furrowed. âWho are?â
âThem.â You swallowed hard, finally breaking down. âThey! They left me. They sold me. I didnât know their names but⌠Iâve seen them. TheyâreâŚâ
Her expression shifted from confusion to horror. You looked at her face. You had never seen a look like that on her ever before. She released your hand only to pull you into a tight embrace.
âYou poor thing,â she whispered, her voice trembling. âI had no idea. But I swear to you, theyâll never hurt you again. Not while Iâm here.â
You cried on her shoulder loudly, and you could feel she was crying softly too. âWhy? Am I not worth raising⌠Mom?â She pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands. âWhy didnât they come back for me?â
âI donât know, and I donât care what their reasons were. You will be a Gojo soon. It is only a matter of time now. And you will forever, forever, Â be a part of our family. I will not let the Kamos stain your history, ever.â
You sniffled. From somewhere in the hall, you could hear Satoruâs loud voice, probably causing some kind of scene.
âSee?â his mother said softly, trying to distract you. âHe hasnât looked at their girl once, just like he promised. That boy might be infuriating, but when it comes to you, heâs surprisingly reliable.â
A faint smile tugged at your lips.
Satoruâs mother stood behind you. Her fingers were combing through your hair softly, as if to sooth your emotions with her caring rhythm. She adjusted your corset strings next, pulling them tighter, not harshly, but enough to make you focus on the present instead of the roaring panic threatening to take over.
Beyond the ornate doors of the gathering, voices rose and fell. You strained your ears to pick out the words, leaning slightly toward the source. And then you heard it.
A deep, booming voice. The same voice from your nightmares. The one that haunted your memories. Your breath hitched. It felt as though the walls were closing in to suffocate you.
Satoruâs motherâs hands immediately moved to your shoulders to steady you. âBreathe, darling,â she said firmly. âIâm here, am I not? You are safe.â
You nodded, though tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. âIâm trying,â you whisper, clutching the fabric of her dress tightly.
And then, the voice spoke words that made your blood run cold.
ââŚa marriage between Kamo Alina and Gojo Satoru.â
You froze. Your heart seemed to have stopped. The room seemed to have crashed down onto you. You tried to process what you had just heard. Satoruâs mother stiffened behind you, her hands pausing mid-movement.
âWhat did they just say?â you whispered.
She didnât respond, though her head tilted slightly as she listened intently to the conversation happening inside the room. You caught snippets of whispers as noble families exchanged their astonishment at the bold proposal.
Surely, Satoruâs father knows. He knows that Satoru is supposed to be engaged to you.Right?
But then you heard him speak. His voice seemed proud and approving. âAn excellent proposal, Daijiro Kamo. This alliance shall strengthen both our families. I accept.â
The words hit you like a slap. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you thought you might be sick.
âMom?â you whispered and turned to Satoruâs mother. âWhyâŚ?â
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing dangerously. âThat moron,â she hissed under her breath. Her hands fell away from your shoulders furiously. âHe didnât consult me. He didnât consult anyone except Daijiro. Of course, he didnât. Men like to think their decisions are final simply because they made them.â
The applause from the other side of the door grew louder. The sound vibrated in your ears as the nobles toasted the âunionâ. Your panic surged again. âWhat do we do?â you asked desperately.
Satoruâs mother exhaled sharply. âI shall handle it.â
When she threw the doors open roughly, the room fell silent. The silence following her entrance was not mere courtesy; it was submission. Her presence demanded it. Yet Kamo Daijiro, standing near the center with a goblet of red wine in his hand, immediately stepped forward with a smug smile. âAh, my lady Gojo,â he began, his voice filled with condescension. âI was just about to inform you of the wonderful arrangement your husband and I have come to. My daughter, Alina, willââ
âWill do nothing,â she cut him off coldly.
Daijiro blinked, clearly taken aback by the interruption. âI beg your pardon?â he said with mock-politeness.
âYou heard me,â she said, stepping further into the room. Every eye in the room was on her. âYou dare discuss an engagement for my son without consulting me?â
Daijiroâs lips curled into a patronizing smile. âWith all due respect, Lady Gojo, this is a matter for the men to decide. Your husband and I both agree that this alliance is mutually beneficial. Surely you trust your husbandâs judgment.â
She laughed humorlessly. âTrust his judgment? You think Iâm going to stand by while you play politics with my sonâs life?â
She turned to glare at her husband. Satoruâs father cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable under her piercing gaze, but Daijiro waved him off. âLady Gojo, your anger is misplaced. This is a matter of strategy. You may oversee the household, but these are decisions of power â something women cannot fully comprehend.â
The room grew deadly quiet now, and Alina seemed to have understood that what her father just said had been a mistake. Satoruâs jaw tightened at the insult at his mother, but he did not say anything yet. You were still frozen in the doorway, but you could feel that he was about to snap at any moment now.
Satoruâs motherâs eyes narrowed dangerously. âWomen cannot comprehend power?â Every word was pronounced clearly, and she took a single step closer. âYouâre standing in my authority. Under my presence. Having begged for my appearance at this folly of an event. And you think I donât comprehend power?â
âBut this is an allianceââ Daijiro started.
âAn alliance that disregards my authority,â she interrupted sharply. âAn alliance that treats my son like a pawn in your political game of blind chess,â Her eyes flicked briefly to Satoru, who watched the exchange with a furrowed brow.
The room erupted in whispers. The many noble families exchanged shocked glances. Even Satoruâs father looked uncomfortable now, though he didn't dare interrupt.
Daijiro straightened, his tone hardening. âLady Gojo, I understand you may feel... emotional about this. But this is for the good of both our families. Surely you donât mean to disrupt an agreement between two patriarchs.â
Her expression darkened further. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for a glass of wine from a nearby tray. In one swift motion, she threw it to the ground, and the crystal shattered into thousands of shards. The sound echoed in the silence.
âThe marriage is off,â she declared, her voice unwavering. âBecause Satoru already has a fiancee.â She turned and gestured to you, standing awkwardly in the doorway having followed her from outside. âMy future daughter-in-law, her.â
The room erupted into chaos. Gasps and furious whispers filled the air. Kamo Daijiroâs face turned a deep shade of red. The Kamo clan, the maids (who were standing outside, peering through the gates you left open, having not been allowed to enter the prestigious ceremony) and leaders alike, looked mortified at her words.Â
âYou cannot be serious,â Akane said through gritted teeth.
âIâve never been more serious,â she countered.
âYou have humiliated my family!â Daijiro growled, stepping closer threateningly.
At this, Satoru stood up, his sword in his hand as he placed himself between his mother and Kamo Daijiro. He tilted the weapon slightly to make sure the threat of blood was sent across to Daijiro, and blocked the way to his mother. Her eyes softened at his action, and she straightened. âThis discussion is over. Take your child and leave, Kamo. I will take mine. There is no alliance to be forged here. Gojo clan!â She called to the maids, soldiers and workers of the Gojo clan who had come along with them on the journey. âWe shall set off back home right now. Prepare.â
Daijiro stared at her with rage and humiliation. But when he glanced at the sea of judgmental eyes surrounding him, he knew he lost. With a barely concealed snarl, he turned on his heel, motioning for his family to follow.
Satoru fixed his sword back into its scabbard. His mother turned to you, softening again. She rested a hand lightly on your shoulder. âCome. We shall leave this place now, for good this time.â
She led you out of the hall, her grip steady and reassuring, even as the whispers behind you grew louder.
ââââ ŕ¨ŕ§ ââââ
The journey back home felt strangely fast compared to the painstaking crawl southward. Perhaps it was Satoruâs motherâs fiery words that had lit a spark of patriotism among the servants, and maybe even the horses. Whatever the case, you arrived at the Gojo estate far sooner than expected.
You barely had time to set foot inside when Satoru found you. He cornered you in one of the quieter hallways. The first thing you noticed was his face; his usual, easygoing expression was clouded with something you had never seen before.
âDid you know?â he asked.
You blinked, thrown off by the abruptness. âDid I know what?â
âThat youâre my fiancee.â The words came out bitter and flat, as if he couldnât believe he was saying them aloud.
Your breath caught in your throat. You had been bracing for this conversation, but not so soon. Not like this. âYes,â you admitted after a moment.
He reeled back, as though the admission had physically struck him. âYou knew?â His voice rose, echoing off the corridor walls. âHow long? How long have you known?â
âA year,â you said hesitantly, feeling guilt rise up in your throat. âI mean⌠last year, your motherââ
âA year?â His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. âYouâve known for an entire year, and you didnât think to tell me?â
âI thought she would tell you,â you stammered. âShe said sheâd handle it.â
âWell, clearly, she didnât!â he snapped, spinning to face you again. âSo what, you were just going to wait until the wedding invitations went out?â
âThatâs not what I meant!â you shot back. âI didnât even agree to this in the first place. I was just as blindsided as you when she told me!â
âBut she did tell you, and you did know,â he repeated coldly. âAnd you didnât think I had a right to know?â
âYouâre acting like I had a choice!â you said, your voice rising to match his.
âThat doesnât excuse keeping it from me!â he shouted too. âYou and my mom â both of you â went behind my back. You made me feel like an idiot standing in that room today.â
âOh, we made you look like an idiot?â you scoffed. âWhy? Because you were actually planning to agree to her proposal? Because you wanted to marry that witch of a woman?â
His eyes widened in disbelief. âAre you serious? I barely even looked at her if I didnât have to!â
âThat was because mother had told you not to!â you countered. âDonât stand there and question me when youâve been acting like you have other options.â
âI didnât know I didnât have other options!â he shouted. âBecause no one told me! The two people I trust the most in this world, you both kept me in the dark!â
You sighed. âSatoruââ
âNo,â he cut you off. âDo you have any idea what this feels like? To know that the people you rely on the most didnât think you were worth the truth?â
âThatâs not fair,â you said softly, trying to find the right words. âI was just obeying motherââ
âObeying mother?â he laughed incredulously. âBy lying to me?â
âI didnât lie!â you snapped. âI just⌠didnât know how to tell you.â
âWell, you should have figured it out,â he said bitterly. âBecause now, all I can think about is how little I actually know about you. About us. About⌠anything.â
The air between you felt heavy, suffocating. You wanted to say something, anything to fix the look of betrayal in his eyes, but your mind was blank.
Finally, he shook his head, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. âLook⌠Iâve never thought of you that way before, okay? Youâre⌠youâre pretty, but youâre like a sister to me. Thatâs how Iâve always seen you. Nothing more. Nothing less.â
Oh. Of course.
âI need space,â he muttered, stepping back. âI need time to think.â
Š chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
#prince!gojo ââ â
#gojo x reader#prince!gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jjk fic#gojo angst#gojo#angst#fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fanfic#clanleader!gojo#clan leader!gojo#prince au#clan au#jjk au
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â26â | CL16 ᥣđŠ.á
Parings: charles leclerc x ex!singer!reader
Summary: the world didnât know you and Charles broke up a few months ago. it was until you havenât been to any gp people started speculating. he finds some one new. Makes his dream com true. And you write an album about him reveling how you broke up and why.
âIf it doesnât go away by the time Iâm 30 then I made a mistake and Iâll tell you Iâm sorryâ
Now playing: â21â by Gracie Abrams.
warnings: smau and angst. thatâs it tbh :)
authorâs note: idk if this makes sense but I hope it does lol. Donât forget to like, comment or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
ââ .âŚ
yourusername made a post
liked by yourbff, taylorswift, shawnmendes, and 1,345,789 others
yourusername: guess itâs just me, myself and music đ° (new tunes coming soon)
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user89: queeennnn canât wait!!!
charlesmylove: why isnât charles liking y/n stuff anymore đ
âł user976: RIGHT thatâs what Iâve noticed
âł user435: girl donât start being delusional prob Charles doesnât use social media
âł user21: I have the feeling they broke up
sabrinacarpenter: they are not ready for whatâs coming đ¤
âł yourusername: đ¤Ť
shawnmendes: gonna be album of the year
lilyhme: prettiest girl in town now can be mine đ
âł yourusername: yours forever my love đ
âł charlesstan: WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOW WHAT
âł user0923: guess she knows things we donât
âł y/nxtaylor: spill the tea sis đ
âł alexalbon: why you always wanna date your friends???
âł lilymhe: theyâre pretty
âł alexalbon: and Iâm not??? I AM YOUR BOYFRIEND
âł georgerussel: love watching drama đż
âł y/nstan: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!
ââ .âŚ
#charles and #y/n are trending on twitter
ââ .âŚ
f1gossipofficial made a post
liked by user57, user1, y/nstan, charlesiloveu and others.
f1gossipofficial: rumors has it that our fave couple on the grid isnât couple anymore! đ Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc was seen out and about with a mistery girl. The source confirmed it wasnât y/n. Y/n was seen arriving to New York last Monday. The fan that met her told us she said in a conversation sheâs been living there since last year! Guess they broken up late last year and kept it a secret! What do we thing about all of this????
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user34: WHAT THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE THEY LOOKED LIKE END GAME đđđ
charlesstan: Iâm dead
user975: tbh I didnât like her for him
y/nstan: I liked Charles sm this is so sad
user0863: now I need y/n new music I NEED TO KNOW
user87: new music coming >>>> new break up song about Charles đ
usrr12: who is that mistery girl? We need a further investigation
âł f1gossipofficial: on it baby đľď¸
ââ .âŚ
yourusername uploaded a story
ââ .âŚ
charlesleclerc uploaded a story
ââ .âŚ
charlesleclerc made a post
liked by user572, yourusername, carlossainz55 and others.
charlesleclerc: WE FINALLY MADE IT! I won my home gp for the first time, wow! Thank you everyone, ferrari, the fans. Everyone. This was my dream and I canât believe this is actually reality. So thrilled! This is for you dad, wish you were here to see it. Letâs celebrate and then focus on the next race! đŞđť
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user86: he is so proud of you I promise đđđ
charstan: congrats prince!! â¨
y/nstan: why is my woman on the likes ????
âł user32: THATS WHAT I THOUGHT FIRST INTERACTION IN QLMOST A YEAR
carlossainz55: congrats hermano !!!!
landonorris: what a race mate!
lewishamilton: finally!! đ
user678: so happy for you charlieeeee
arthurleclerc: â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
ââ .âŚ
you text your producer and best friend
ââ .âŚ
yourusername made a post
liked by user679, yourbff, sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 1,432,568 others
yourusername: here to finally tell you that my first single â26â for my next album is out!!! Made this album from the deep end of my heart. Hope you like it as much as I love it (and help me get through). link in bio đ§¸
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yourbff: the most beautiful and saddest song Iâve ever heard đ
lilymhe: GIRL Iâm sobbing wtf
user256: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
User998: she really said letâs spill the tea
âł user895: but i never thought it would be LIKE THIS đ
landonorris: congrats @/yourusername !! On repeat for the rest of the month at least
âł georgerussel: babygirl
georgerussel: thanks for the tea y/n! Beautiful song from a beautiful soul â¤ď¸ we miss you
âł yourusername: I miss you too đ
âł carlossainz55: wish you could come back some time again :(
shawnmendes: I cried I sobbed I screamed I died
sabrinacarpenter: the best artist of all time iloveu bestie â¤ď¸âđŠš
User673: CHARLES LIKED đđđđ
ââ .âŚ
ââ .⌠FIN
Hope you liked it guys đ if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smau#cl16 x you#cl16 imagine#cl16 x reader#cl16#cl16 one shot#cl16 x y/n#cl16 fic#cl16 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#Spotify
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Dude this is sick, reminds me of this cool different Undertale multiverse idea I've made one day.
[this whole Multiverse happens like, years down the line, pretty much a time skip AU causing error and ink to be much stronger for some reason, there's a reason why I scrapped it a lot of the story is me making a scenario in my head and struggling to explain why it happens the way it does.]
In it error sans finally managed to end ink, and once he does it he regrets it later on because of the boredom that come from no one on his level to really attempt to fight back against him destroying things, and since there was no one making Another AU protector for so long, he needed to slow down on destroying the AU's because of [reasons that don't really make any sense for his canon character to do, because he would probably destroy them all regardless of how he would feel about it afterwards, which is why I've made this a completely different multiverse altogether AND scrapped it.]
Because in this MV (MultiVerse) he would die of absolute boredom if he actually destroyed everything in one swoop, so he needed to balance destroying things and then wait for creators to create more anomalies for him to destroy, which he finds really annoying, so in his absolute bored out of his mind state, he makes the choice to create something himself.
A replacement for ink that could rival him and force creators to work overtime and make more anomalies for him to destroy, he takes a pen and paper and sketches a sans design heavily based on ink, which is why this version of "ink" is named "sketch!sans" with nicknames like "sketchy, sketched, sketchup." [Ketchup joke, made by either classic sans or fresh sans, haven't really chosen who did it, could be any Sans', really.]
Then to bring this character to life error after a while of trying he would get really frustrated, because he doesn't know how to do it, making him throw the drawing away.
Causing it to fall down to the bottom of ink's doodle sphere where the remains of the destroyed AU's remained or something causing sketch sans to actually be created...
[...This only works here because I reworked what happens once you destroy an au, in this multiverse once you destroy an AU, the Portal to said AU in the doodle sphere turns into magic ink and it remains at the bottom of the doodle sphere for the rest of eternity, but thanks to how many AU's we're destroyed they accumulated and mixed together, making a huge mess.]
Thanks to the ink being mixed together this version of ink sans would come out with a lot defects, he would come out of the ink "colorless" or just "black, white and grey." Being straight up a blank Canvas, a husk of what the real ink is supposed to be, so a lot of his emotions were muddled and he didn't act like what you'd expect ink to act like...
...Causing sketch sans to be very insecure? Maybe, his whole character arc that I've had planned for him is him trying to live up to error's expectations and straight up trying his damnest to act like ink would, causing a lot of identity crisis's until he met the star Sanses and they explain to him why he simply can't get his whole attempt to imitate ink right, so they introduce him to the vials ink used to act the way he did, then sketch would start going after said vials to act more like ink, as he kept finding and drinking more of these vials he would slowly and surely becoming a lot more like ink and he would regain his colors with each vial, with error constantly encouraging this to make him keep going and get the real ink back, thanks to error's inability to care for sketch's whole identity crisis causing sketch to reach his breaking point when he meets Cross!Sans and his whole thing and experience with identity crisis's and making him realize how abusive this relationship with error is, causing him to either cut ties with error or just become his own person and completely ignore error's wishes, and just deal with him without the pressure of having to act like ink, or whatever, I don't have a proper ending to it.
It was nice getting this off my chest and head.
ERROR!INK (ASYNC SANS)
ok so, finally came with a full idea of this character:D an error version of ink. i'll be listing some facts and clarifications about him to prevent any kind of confusion, just under the cut!
i wanted to write his entire backstory on here but it ended up being a little too much longer than i expected so maybe i'll make a comic about it- or no (wheheh). but basically everything started when he also tore his soul but appeared in the anti-void instead of a normal void that would eventually become his doodle sphere
now, his design choices
he's wearing the first ever clothes he used in His Story comic
his eyes colors were chosen thanks to their inverts, those specific magenta and blue are the opposites of green and yellow, the first colors he experienced in his original story
the marks on his body are white to represent the meaning of the few white garments in his original design: "The white layer underneath says how he attempts to hide who he is, but his emptiness sometimes shines through."
his "tattoos" are no longer illegible when he turns into an error, they become common binary codes (the font used for these is Note This, ink's official font)
the red (magenta) eye is on the right side to somehow symbolize the blood his "scar" would cause
there is no yellow on his clothes to show how secretive he is, as he constantly hides half his face in his scarf
personality traits and extra facts!
as said before he is someone incredibly reserved, mostly because while being in his 5 senses he is afraid of his self without his doses of paints and tries to not attract attention
nonetheless, he likes being around people, he would probably travel across universes to hang out hidden in crowded places
the "specific situations" mentioned on the first part of the sheet refer, for the most part, to self-defense. but there may be other situations where he simply creates stuff that people ask for from time to time
compared to his original counterpart, he will take much longer to drain as he'll rarely use his powers
if he talks for too much time he'll glitch for an instant and forget everything he was saying. that is one of the reason he doesn't enjoy talking so much
when he's in the doodle sphere he often has momentary traumatic hallucinations, so he tries to leave that place as quickly as possible
these previously mentioned hallucinations also happen in panic situations or as a sign that the ingested paints are no longer effective
okie dokie i think that's all for now<3 if anything comes to my mind later or anytime i'll try to post it or smth! hope you like itđŤś
ink sans by @/comyet
#error sans#ink sans#undertale au#what if#undertale multiverse#writing ideas#star sanses#cross sans#fresh sans
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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.Â
He carried his anxiety about Dr Gauls potential comments along with him to his session with Lucy-Grey.Â
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.Â
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.Â
Instead he forced his nails into the palm of his hand under the table, and tried to focus on Lucy-Gray as she spoke.Â
âI am sorry about your friendâ, she offered.Â
âThank youâ, he returned.Â
âThat other girl. Was she okay? The guards whisked you away so fast. I couldnât see-â.Â
Something about her asking about you made Coriolanus irritated.Â
He supposed it was just the image it brought back. The sheer shock upon your face, the fear that he wouldnât get to you in time.Â
âSheâs fineâ, he interrupted. His pen began twirling in his hand again.Â
He wished he could have seen you this morning to check on you. You most likely woke up in the arms of Sejanus. He wouldnât check on you like he should. His first words would have been complaints about the games.Â
He shouldnât 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.Â
If it had been Coriolanus, as it should be, he would have ensured you stayed home in bed. He wouldnât have left your side after yesterday. He wouldnât have even let you be there yesterday.Â
First Sejanus causes the wound, and then he isnât man enough to take care of you properly. How sweet it will be, the day you finally belong to Coriolanus Snow.Â
âI need you to sing in these interviews. Itâs your last chance to win people over. I canât send you gifts in the area without their moneyâ, he states.Â
âMaybe a guitar could persuade me. Maybeâ, Lucy-gray offers.Â
âSnow. Dovecoteâ Dean highbottom calls.Â
Coriolanus whips around to see Peacekeepers waiting for them by the door.Â
He could piece the clues together to come to the conclusion that Dr Gaul had called them.Â
Clemmie on the other hand waited until they were climbing the Citadel steps to ask her obvious question.Â
âShe canât actually have expected us to write that report. Could she? I was crying for hours last nightâ.Â
Corionaus sighs. If Clemmie had kept her mouth shut he would have been next to you. Youâd be nervous and in need of comfort, no matter how tough you talked.
âWe did write it. I handed it in this morningâ, he states.Â
This time Clemmie sighed, âGreat, give me the highlightsâ.Â
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.Â
It was cold and the large space only housed a long corridor of strange creatures in glass cabinets.Â
Coriolanus taps the casing of a fish-type creature only to see if it moves.Â
Its eyes shoot open only for a second before falling back into a drugged sleepy state.Â
What exactly was Dr Gaul doing? What were these things? For what purpose could they be used for?Â
âMr Snow. Ms Dovecote. Come and see my new babiesâ. 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.Â
The rainbow moved within the glass in perfect sync. It was hard to tell where one snake started and another ended.Â
âIs there a point to the color?âClemmie asked.Â
Dr Gaul scoffs at her as she ascends the stairs to the top of the glass cage.
âThereâs a point to everything, Ms Dovecote, or nothing at allâ, Dr Gauls answers.Â
She spins to face the children, and rests against the side of the enclosure.Â
âI must say I was expecting Miss y/n, in your place Ms Dovecottâ.Â
âAs I said, Dr Gaul, Coriolanus and I do all our assignments togetherâ, Clemmie defended.Â
âWhich is exactly why I was expecting the other oneâ. Dr Gauls eyes flick to Coriolanus, âexactly, which part did you write Miss Dovecott?â.Â
Coriolanus tries to pull Clemmie out of the hole she was in but Clemmie talks over top of him.
âThere was-â.
âI was inspired by Coriolanus, of course. But the sponsorships, and the gifts in the arena. They were all mineâ, she cut him off.Â
âClemmieâ, he warns. Dr Gaul already knew she played no part. Lying to her would only aggravate her sadistic tenancies.Â
Dr Gual takes the bait. Crossing her hands in an almost gleeful manner she addresses Clemmie.Â
âSo itâs your sweaty handwriting on that page? Very impressive, Miss Dovecoteâ, Dr Gauls fawns.Â
Coriolanus knew it was a tease. He anticipated the come down and the potential consequences of her lie.Â
âUnfortunatelyâ, Dr Gaul continues, âMy assistant mistook it for trash and lined the shelf of this very terrarium with itâ.Â
Dr Gaul slides back the hatch to show the students the paper that was trapped between the snakes.Â
âRetrieve it for us, won't you? So we might all consider your inspired ideasâ, Dr Gaul smiles.Â
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.Â
He wondered if he should do the same for Clemmie. She was an old friend, and her grades helped him to the top.Â
Still he only stood back and watched. Half-Curious as to what would happen.Â
The snakes couldn't be poisonous. Dr Gaul wouldnât play with a students life. Especially a student from a high status family like Clemmieâs.Â
Maybe. Coriolanus thinks back to the weird, mutated animals that lined the hallway. There was really no telling what Dr Gaul was capable of.Â
âDonât worry. My little predators are perfectly docile with those they can trust. So if theyâre used to your scent, if youâve handled their food, for example, or if they have inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page..theyâll leave you alone. If not, Youâd be on your own, little girlâ.Â
Coriolanus knew from her words that Dr Gaul words were a threat. Those Snakes would harm Clemmie.Â
Yet she reached her hand into the enclosure.Â
âClemmie!â Coriolanus grits.Â
He is ignored to her own peril.Â
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.Â
Clemmie screams upon impact. Trying desperately to shake the snake from her hand, she loses balance and topples off the stand.Â
âClemmie! No, no!â Coriolanus attempts to catch her as she falls, but Dr Gaul hinders him by pulling him back by his arm.Â
She lands with a heavy thud on her back. Gasps fill the air as she tires to regain her breath.Â
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.Â
âYou 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 proposalâ.Â
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.Â
The Peacekeepers then, without care, began to drag Clemmie across the floor and out a near door.Â
Coriolanus was left alone with Dr Gaul who turned her attention to him.Â
âI wonder if y/n would have chosen the same decision?â, she questioned.Â
âWill she die?â Coriolanus asked in a hard tone. More than Dr Gaul mentioning you, he hated the image of you lying in Clemmies place.Â
Dr Gaul shrugs her shoulders as if it didnât really matter.Â
âThe pleasure of breaking ground in oneâs research is one gets to find outâ, she dismissed.Â
She smirks as she turns back to the enclosure. Her hand reaches in and she begins to play with her pet snakes.Â
âYou donât like me talking about her do you?â, Dr Gaul picks up a loose piece of paper and thrusts it at Coriolanus, âfor a boy who came up with these proposals, you sure do wear your heart on your sleeveâ.Â
The paper crumbles in Coriolanus' grip. He looks at it to avoid eye contact with Dr Gaul.Â
âWhat would Miss y/n think if she saw them? Theyâre good, these proposals. I am planning to implement as many as possibleâ.Â
This causes Coriolanus to look up at Dr Gaul. If you knew, you were sure to never forgive him.Â
âDonât worryâ Dr Gaul said, as if she could read his mind, âIâll take credit for this one. Miss y/n is yet to realize her place in this worldâ.Â
Dr Gaul closes the hatch to the snakes enclosure, turning her body towards Coriolanus.Â
âAnd who is to be beside her, wouldnât you say?â, she taunts.Â
Coriolanus straightens up, dropping the ruined paper to the ground.Â
âY/n isnât part of this conversationâ, Coriolanus snaps.
Dr Gaul grins at him in response, stepping closer so she could talk quieter but still be heard.Â
âWe both want a new world, Mr Snow. My only question is how far are you willing to go to get it?â
She doesnât let him answer. Seemingly, now bored of the conversation.Â
âNow run along, you have an arena to promote and itâs time for my milk and crackersâ, she dismisses.Â
He takes the chance to leave. Storming down the steps and back along the hallway as fast as he could.Â
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.Â
Turning behind him every so often to make sure no one was following him.Â
The whole scene plays in his mind again and again.Â
He was glad it wasnât you in the end. You were already so traumatized after yesterday, it was a relief to not have to put you through that ordeal.Â
The walk through of the arena was not for another hour. He had time to check on you.Â
He was sure you were at school. Your parents wouldnât let Sejanus into the house, and you wouldnât 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.Â
Suddenly, Sejanusâ lack of care turned out to be a good thing.Â
Sejanus would be with his mentor getting ready for the tour. Which meant Coriolanus could see you without company.Â
He knew your class schedule well. He liked the knowledge while he was in one class, he knew which one you were in.Â
So he knew where to go and wait until the bell rang.Â
A group of people rushed out of the classroom before you. You were the only one walking alone so you were easy to spot.Â
You almost walk past him but he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the line of people to a quiet staircase.Â
âCoriolanus?â you question.Â
You donât fight him as he pulls you against the wall and stands in front of you like a shield.Â
The people who walk past eye the scene but make nothing of it.Â
âCoriolanus, are you okay?â you question.Â
He couldnât tell you about Clemmie and Dr Gaul but he was also so desperate for comfort.Â
âIs it Arachne?â you ask. He nods his head âyesâ although his mind was far from it.Â
You put your hand that was free from the weight of your books on his shoulder.Â
âItâs not your faultââ, you console.Â
âI just wish I could have done moreâ, he lied.Â
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.Â
âNoâ you repeat, âwhat happened was no one's fault but her ownâ.
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.Â
Instead he reaches up and places his hand on your elbow that had reached out to him. Â
âAre you okay?â he asks. It should have been his first question.
âI am fineâ you say.Â
Your hand drops from his shoulder and he is forced to put his hand on the brick wall next to your hip.Â
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.Â
âYou should talk to someone. Arachne was your friendâ, you state.
You shuffle slightly forward to hint to him that he was too close but he remains stagnant in his place.Â
âArachne was not my friendâ, he deflects.Â
You never liked her which meant Coriolanus never liked her.Â
âYou're my friend. Arachne was just someone I grew up with. I hardly knew herâ, Coriolanus tried a softer tone as his previous speech came off harder than intended.Â
He offered a kind smile that you did not return.Â
âIâve been worried about you all dayâ he breathes.Â
His hand moves to your hip, and you are quick to push it off.Â
âCoriolanus 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 yesterdayâ.Â
Strange you called it. Not a man desperately in love. But a mad man that needs to be taken away.Â
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.Â
He was supposed to be at the Arena in fifteen minutes but he is twenty minutes away.Â
He groans, cursing the length of the Citadel from here, and cursing your late class.
 âI have to leaveâ, he says, âi just came to make sure you were okayâ.Â
âI amâ, you acknowledge.Â
He steps forward again, placing his hands on your shoulder blades and pulling you forward into his chest.Â
You stumble into him, timidly raising your hands to pat his lower back.Â
âForget your last class, you should go homeâ, he begs.Â
He feels you push back against him so he lets you go and takes a step back.Â
âYou should worry more about yourself. You look so paleâ.Â
When you reach out to touch his forehead, he leans into your touch. Loving the way your little warm hand felt.Â
He knew it didnât mean anything. You were kind. He could have been anyone and you would have done the same thing.Â
Still he allows himself a second of pretend that it meant more.Â
âI have to goâ, he says again, âJust promise me that youâll go homeâ.
âSure, Coriolanusâ, you amuse.Â
It was enough to hear it. He didnât need to believe it.Â
With a final smile, he reaches up to touch your elbow once more and leaves you in the dark corner.Â
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.Â
It paid off when he reached the arena just in time for walk-in.Â
He filed in next to Lucy-Grey seconds before the doors opened.Â
âI didnât think you were going to make itâ, lucy-Grey admits.Â
âWeâre going to win thisâ Coriolanus vows, âTogetherâ.Â
The arena is dark. An ominous red glow from the ticket vendor invites them in.Â
The camera crew are already there, pointing their large frames in the faces of the tributes.Â
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.Â
He steadies her, looking around for possible strategies.Â
âPleaseâ Lucy-Grey grabs his arm to turn him towards her, âPlease, Coriolanus, donât let me die in here tomorrowâ.
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.Â
Lucy-Grey lands beside him, and he scrambles to help her to her feet.Â
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.Â
Another loud explosion tore the roof down over them.Â
He releases Lucy-gray so they could both run for cover.Â
Days of the war spring to his memory. The rebels were back to finish him off.Â
The force of the explosion knocked him off balance and onto the floor.Â
He could see peoples feet as they scramble past but none stop to help him.Â
A louder, cracking noise spoke of his bigger issue and he turns to see a large pailing coming down towards him.Â
Knowing he wouldn't have enough time to get to his feet, he began to crawl as fast as he could.Â
It wasnât fast enough. The hot metal pailing pins his shoulder to the ground. He could smell his own flesh burning as he lay trapped.Â
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 heâll die without ever getting to taste you.Â
Through the smoke he could see Lucy-Grays boots come into view.Â
âHelp meâ he begs. He still had so much to do.Â
She looks to be bending down to assist when she is interrupted by Marcus flying across towards the open door.Â
âLeave himâ he demands, âHe wouldnât save youâ.Â
Marcus doesnât stick around for her decision. Running to his freedom just across the room.Â
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.Â
She must have realized that too because she bent back down to lift the burning metal off Coriolanus. She didnât 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 couldnât even rise from the floor to stop them.Â
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.Â
The last image he could see was her looking down at her burnt hands before it all went black.Â
His pounding headache woke him to the sight of you by his bed.Â
He didnât believe it. He had to be dead.Â
His hand lashes out to take a hold of your wrist. You felt real.Â
Your reaction seemed real. A startled look of surprise and discomfort.Â
âWoah, Corio, take it slowâ, the voice of Tigres calls to him.Â
He looks away from your face to see Tigres sitting in the chair next to you.Â
âWhat?â Coriolanus questioned, âWhat happened?â.Â
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.Â
âIt was a rebel bombing. They must have been planning it for months. Four tributes were killedâ.Â
Coriolanus almost scowls hearing his voice.Â
Sejanus sat in a chair positioned on the other side of the bed. You hadnât come to him in his hour of need. You were merely tagging along with your boyfriend.Â
âEveryone is terrified, Corioâ Tigres explains, âFliex Ravenstill is on life supportâ.Â
âThe rebels released a message. They said they want to tear down the symbol of the Hunger Games. Marcus got out. Heâs the only one. Peacekeepers are hunting him in the streets but at least he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrowâ, Sejanus gravely mutters.Â
âTomorrow?â Coriolanus expounds, âTheyâre not still going ahead with the Games?â
âWe canât look weak in front of the enemy,â you spat, âEverything is going ahead as scheduled. I donât even know if Lucy-Gray will be able to play tonightâ.
âThe interviewsâ, Coriolanus guessed, still hazy.Â
He pulls himself up out of bed, holding out his arm for you to help his rise.Â
You do, automatically, hooking his good arm over your shoulder and wrapping your arm across his waist to keep him up.Â
ââYou shouldnât get out of bedâ, you criticize him.Â
Normally he wouldnât ignore you, but the interviews started fifty minutes ago.Â
Sejanus rises to in order to assist Coriolanus as he shuffles forward, but Coriolanus barks another order at him.Â
âSejanus, turn the Tv to the interviewsâ.Â
Like a good dog, he obeys. Leaving another man hanging onto his girlfriend.Â
âCareful, Corioâ Tigres directs.Â
Coriolanus takes tigres arm as he couldnât lift his shoulder so all his weight wasnât passed on to you.Â
The Tv turns just in time to watch Lucy-gray come out with a guitar, and a big smile.Â
Sejanus makes his way over to you, offering to take your place as Coriolanusâ anchor.Â
He is quick to speak for you. Stating that the change would topple him to the floor.Â
Sejanus relents and takes his place beside you. You made no complaints so Coriolanusâ weight couldnât have been hurting you.Â
Coriolanus had missed the opening introduction due to Sejanus, but was now focused enough as Lucy-Gray went into her song.Â
âWhere did she get the guitar?â Coriolanus asks. He had been too busy to organize her one before the bombing.Â
âI brought it for herâ, you answer, âi went to see if she was okay after the bombing and she said she needed a guitar for her interview. Said sheâll feel naked without itâ.Â
âThank you. That was very kindâ, Coriolanus commended softly.Â
Coriolanus always knew someday that you and him would make a great team.
Your eyes are trained on Lucy-gray, and Coriolanus followed suit.Â
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.Â
It was additional stress Coriolanus could have lived without.Â
âThe poor girlâ you mutter with tears rolling down your face.Â
Coriolanus squeezes your shoulders in comfort.Â
âSheâll be okayâ he promises. He would ensure it for his own survival and your personal satisfaction now that you and his tribute were friendly.Â
âThank you for being hereâ, he says looking down at you, before turning his sights to Tigres, âAll of youâ.Â
âItâs what friends doâ, Sejanus answers. The only person Coriolanus was not speaking to.Â
âI donât think you should be standingâ, you say, trying to turn Coriolanus back to bed.Â
He allows you to lead him there where you tuck him back into bed.Â
You ruin the moment by going straight back into Sejanusâ arms once Coriolanus has settled.Â
âWeâll leave you to restâ Sejanus states.Â
He looked too unhappy for a man who held you in his arms.Â
âGoodnightâ he bids, âand y/n, thank you for helping Lucy-Gray tonightâ.
Her performance wouldn't have been half as moving with the soft, sad melody accompanying it.Â
âGood luck, Coriolanus. I hope she winsâ, you remark.Â
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.Â
Coriolanus just had to figure out how to give her a competitive edge.Â
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.Â
âLucy-gray!â he calls softly, âLucy-gray!â
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.Â
âYouâre alive!â She exclaims as she nears the fence.Â
âThose bombs have changed everythingâ, he wastes no time to explain his purpose here, âThey 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 aloneâ.Â
âAlone? No, jessups my friendâ, she argues.Â
He shakes his head ânoâ.Â
âThe moment that bell rings, you canât trust anyone. Not even jessup. Just lay low down there until its safe to come outâ, he demands.Â
Couldn't she see that she was risking not only her own life, but his, with her undying loyalty.Â
âThank you. You and y/n have been so nice to me. I donât know what I would have done without you bothâ, Lucy-Grey declares, âI donât know how iâll ever pay you back for your kindnessâ.Â
âYou can winâ, Coriolanus orders, âyou winning will be life changing for y/n and I. We can finally live the life we want to live. When you win, youâll win for all of usâ.Â
âIâll try, but-â she begins but never finishes as Coriolanus cuts her off.Â
âTheres no âbutsâ. Theres no other optionâ, he asserts.Â
Lucy-Gray begins to cry from the pressure of it all.Â
âHeyâ, he whispers in sympathy.Â
âI am sorry. I am more hopeful in the day light but when it gets to nightâ, she whimpers.Â
âItâs okayâ 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.Â
âWe are going to win, Lucy-Gray. I promise.â.
âY/n, real lucky to have a friend like youâ Lucy-gray comments.Â
He knew that. Who else would be willing to risk everything for your happiness. It didnât even bother him that Lucy-gray referred to him as your friend.Â
All that matters is that someone else realizes the depth of his love.Â
âI am very lucky to have herâ. He breaths. He was cautious to say too much.
âLook, that song, I need to know that you are serious about winningâ, he demands.Â
âThat song? That was just pay back, thatâs allâ, she defenders, âmy 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 meâ.
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.Â
âHereâ he shoves the compact into Lucyâs-Grays hand.
âI canâtâ she resists, âItâs too fineâ
He clasps his hands over hers to stop her passing it back.Â
âItâs not a gift. Itâs a loan. His large hands wrap entirely around Lucy-Grayâs little fingers.Â
âWhats in here, donât touch it. Donât even breathe it in because small amounts can be deadlyâ.Â
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.Â
âI have seen what war does to people, okay?â, he lectures, âIâve seen it, and there will come a time when you need this, when you need to act. We all do things weâre not proud of to survive.â
Unexpectedly she brings her head forward to bars in an attempt to kiss him. He lowers his head slightly to dissuade her.Â
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.Â
âI am sorryâ, she gasps, âyou said it was complicated with y/n, and y/n said she was with Sejanus so Iâ.Â
She doesnât finish her sentence, too embarrassed.Â
Coriolanus shakes it off like it was nothing, in an attempt to ease her.Â
âItâs fine. I justâ, Coriolanus wasnât sure what to say.Â
You were with Sejanus. There was no real reason why he couldnât kiss lucy-gray.Â
It was mis-guided loyalty to a woman who kissed another man. Sometimes right in front of Coriolanus.Â
Still it didnât feel right. He wanted you to be the only person he kissed.Â
âItâsâ, Coriolanus begins.Â
âComplicatedâ, Lucy-Gray finishes.Â
Coriolanus moves closer, bringing his head as far as he could to the bars.
âWeâre gonna win this Lucy-Gray. Weâre gonna win this together. Iâm going to get you home, back to the Covery, okay? I promiseâ.Â
Coriolanus looks at his victor. His dog in the race. Heâs bet it all on her, and heâll be damned if she was going to let him down.
The morning of the Games, Coriolanus couldnât even eat his cabbage soup that Tigres had worked so hard to prepare.Â
He kisses Grandmaâam and Tigress goodbye before beginning his long journey to school.Â
There would be cameras and crowds of people. He had to look composed, but inside he felt the most scared he had ever been.Â
The feeling eased seeing you across the auditorium.Â
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.Â
It didnât matter you were here for Coriolanus just as much as you were for Sejanus. His tribute wasnât even participating. If anything you had come to support Coriolanus and Lucy-Gray.Â
âCoryo!â Sejanus called for him as he approached the mentors chairs.Â
Sejanus lets go of you, which is something Coriolanus would never do, to place a hand on Coriolanus shoulder.Â
âHeyâ Coriolanus greets. His eyes remain on you and how you smile at him.Â
âHow you doing? You alright?â Sejanus asks.Â
âBetterâ, Coriolanus dismisses.Â
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.Â
With a hand on your lower back, he propels you forward. The hand remains as you shuffle next to him.Â
âOver here please!â, the man with the large camera calls.Â
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.Â
âHow are you this morning?â, Coriolanus asks softly.Â
âNot about to be forced to fight to the deathâ, you snap.
You donât look at him as you speak as you often choose not to do.Â
âHere we go. Here we go, everyone, come onâ, 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.Â
âWait for me over there?â he asks, flicking his head to the nearest bleacher to his seat.Â
It was the furthest from Coriolanusâ seat, but you nod in agreement and move to his direction.Â
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.Â
âFive, four, three, twoâ, the music signals the start of Lucky Flickerman's introduction.Â
Coriolanus ignores him mostly. Turning in his chair to watch you engrossed in the large television in front of you.Â
Your hands grip the seat underneath you. He would give anything to be able to comfort you.Â
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.Â
Suddenly you gasp, bring your hand up to your mouth with a frightened expression.Â
Coriolanus turns back to the screens to see what could have caused such a reaction.Â
They had found Marcus and left him strung up and half-alive in the arena. It was cruel even for Coriolanus.Â
You shouldnât 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.Â
Youâll be crying about it for weeks with only Sejanus for consolation.Â
Coriolanus wasnât sure who would be comforting who with the way Sejanus jumped from his chair.Â
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.Â
âYouâre monsters! All of you!â He screams to the audience.Â
He storms past Lucky flickerman who begins the countdown to the Games as if Sejanus had never existed at all.Â
Coriolanus gets up, rushing over to you as you rise to follow Sejanus.Â
He manages to catch your arm just as you make it to the exit way.Â
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.Â
Coriolanus felt hidden enough to not let go of your arm, despite you struggling against him.Â
You turn back to see how had stopped you with an angry expression, but it doesnât soften when you see itâs him.Â
âDonâtâ, he begs. He wanted you to stay and support him.Â
It didnât matter if you knew it or not, but you were his biggest comfort, and thatâs what he needed as he watched Lucy-Gray fight for his life.Â
You donât listen to him, tugging your arm out of his grip and chasing after Sejanus without looking back.Â
Coriolanus watches as you go with a heavy breath.
âAnd theyâre off!â Lucky announces.Â
Coriolanus turns to watch Lucy-Gray run from her mark.
âRunâ, he demands softly. He takes a few steps forward but is halted when Lucy-Gray remains in the same spot, looking around.Â
âWhat are you doing? Runâ he groans.Â
He staggers back to his seat, gripping the plastic back tightly in his hand.Â
His eyes shut when Lucy-Gray narrowly avoids a strike from Reaper. Â
Why wonât anyone ever listen to him, he wondered.Â
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.Â
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.Â
It wasnât until she had gathered Jessup and began racing for the hole in the ground that Coriolanus lifted his head again.Â
âGo, go, goâ, he muttered. The pack was closing in. Hell bent on taking out Lucy-gray.Â
They almost manage to, but Lucy-Gray slips through the broken door, and a squabble prohibits the hunters coming in.Â
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.Â
Coriolanus squirms in his seat watching as another child is hacked apart by dull weapons.Â
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.Â
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.Â
Coriolanus wonders if you will be back. He hoped you would come check on him.Â
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.Â
A small conversation between the two preceded Lamina swinging her axe down.Â
Coriolanus shudders hearing the impact. He hoped you didnât see that.Â
He could only imagine the sobbing it would cause.Â
Lamina cuts marcus down and he falls like a bag of bricks.Â
She gazes down at him. Coriolanus couldnât 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.Â
Coriolanus almost laughed when it drove straight past her and smashed into the rocks.Â
The night dragged on, but Coriolanus remained. Eyes glued to the screen in hope of a glance of Lucy-Gray.Â
The camera stayed mainly above ground where the action was, but sometimes he got a dash at what Lucy-Gray was doing.Â
She was still alive. Or at least was, ten minutes ago.Â
The other mentors, and most of the audience had left as the night bled.Â
Nothing had really happened for hours. A squabble or a chase here and there but most of the fight had left the tributes.Â
âIf only you could trap y/n as easily as you have trapped that poor girlâ, Dean Highbottoms voice surprised Coriolanus.
âIâve trapped her?âCoriolanus fought, âI didnât create the Gamesâ.
He saw Dean Highbottom flinch ever so slightly. If he hadn't been looking so intensely, he would have missed it.Â
âNoâ, Highbottom concedes, âbut youâve fueled its continuance. Youâve turned dying children into spectacles , Mr Snow. Congratulationsâ.
Coriolanus ignores him, turning back to the screens.Â
âAre you honestly hoping that winning the plinth prize will win you the girl?â, Dean Highbottom mocks.Â
âI am hoping my hard work will pay offâ, Coriolanus bites.Â
âI saw you before with miss y/n, trying to stop her from leavingâ.Â
âI was trying to stop her from making a fool out of herselfâ.
âWhat do you want from that poor girl?â.Â
Coriolanus knew there was no point in lying. Dean Highbottom had already figured out Coriolanusâ intentions.Â
âOnly whats bestâ, he answers.Â
âHm and you think winning the Plinth prize will help you decide what is best for her?â, Hightbom begins to laugh, his voice taking on a sing-songy tone, âWake up mr Snow. Who do you think decides? Even if your songbird wins, Iâll do everything in my power to ensure you donât see a single dime of that prize moneyâ.Â
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 wonât lose him the prize. If Highbottom wanted it, he would have to rip it from Coriolanusâs hands.Â
Instead he turns back to the screen. Lucy-gray was still underground, feeding Jessup water.Â
He could hear Dean Highbottom walking away which left him with a small victory.Â
Coriolanus takes a deep breath, and sits straightener in his chair.Â
It wasnât over. Dean Highbottom wasnât 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.Â
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.
âCoriolanus?â. He heard your voice call.Â
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.Â
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.Â
It panicked him greatly to see you in such a state.Â
He reaches out, quickly taking your wrist in his hold.Â
âHuh, what happened? Are you okay?â, he asks.Â
âHas Sejanus been here?â, you quake.Â
Coriolanus shakes his head ânoâ.Â
He could have rolled his eyes. Of course, Sejanus was behind your tears once more. Coriolanus had never made you cry.Â
âWhy would he be here?â, 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.Â
âI thought maybe he would come see you. We were sleeping and I woke up, and he was goneâ, you explain with a shaky breath, âI donât know where he could have went, Coriolanus. Heâs not in a good place. I am worried-â
âNot in a good place, indeedâ Dr Gauls voice booms through the open space.Â
This time when Coriolanus touched you, he was given permission. He pulls you next to him to face Dr Gaul together.Â
Dr Gaul was disinterested in the couple, taking the master remote and turning all the channels to the same camera.Â
âSejanus!â, you gasp upon seeing your boyfriend knelt down next to his old friend in the arena.Â
Your hand takes a hold of Coriolanus' arm in a tight grip. Your painted nails dig into his uniform jacket.Â
âBreadcrumbsâ Dr Gaul annotates while the room watches Sejanus spread the food over his friend, âI believe substance for a fallen comrade in his final journey. A district 2 superstitionâ.Â
âHow did he get in there?â you question, never once tearing your eyes from the screen.Â
âIâll work on finding the peacekeeper he bribed to let him in, and remove his tongueâ, Dr Gual snarls, âin the meantime I need you to get him out right nowâ.Â
Dr Gaul looked directly at you which spiked Coriolanus heart rate,Â
âYou should send Peacekeepers inâ, he demanded. There was no way you were joining Sejanus in the arena.Â
âOnly to have him bolt and hide like a rabbit?â, Dr Gaul retorts. âFleix 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!â.Â
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.Â
You stood brave, staring straight back at her with discontempt.Â
âYou choose to be lovers with the radical. Donât you want him out?â, Dr Gaul gages you.Â
Coriolanus steps forward trying to take Dr Gauls attention away from you.Â
ââSending her into the arena will get her killed. Itâll look a lot worse if the tributes kill two Capitol studentsâ, Coriolanus justifies.Â
âA volunteer then?â,Dr Gual pushes.
âIâll goâ, You say too quickly, âI can get him outâ.
âIâll goâ, Coriolanus declares.Â
The mere thought of you in the arena left a sick feeling in his stomach. He wouldnât watch helplessly on the other side of the screen while you risked your life for Sejanus.Â
He couldnât believe Sejanus had put you in this position. Coriolanusâs every move was calculated with you in mind.Â
It was pure luck that you had chosen to seek Coriolanus out. If you hadnât he would have woken the next morning to see you dead in the arena next to Sejanus.Â
He would go into the arena to save Sejanus if it meant saving you.Â
âNo!â you protested, once again grabbing hold of Coriolanus arm to pull him back.Â
He turns to you with a look of irritation on his face.Â
âWhat chance do you think you stand if one of the tributes decide to attack? I am stronger, fasterâ, Coriolanus explained. He hated being irritated at you, but you wouldnât see sense, âIâll get him out, y/n. I promiseâ.Â
âUnless you are both secretly hoping heâll die in that arena, we need to move fastâ, Dr Gaul utters.
Her expression had changed from one of anger to quiet amusement, but she had not forgotten the task at hand.Â
She turns, expecting the children to follow her as she talks. Coriolanus follows suit, leading you as you wrap yourself around his arm.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âIâll freeze the feed for one hourâ, Dr Gaul says as she moves out of the school, âI expect thats all the time we have until someone noticesâ.Â
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.Â
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.Â
Coriolanus places a hand on your knee in comfort but you donât seem to register it.Â
He tries not to mind Dr Gauls' searing stare from the other bench. He focuses on you and your state of worry.Â
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.Â
The drive wasnât long, but the peacekeeper sped to it anyway.Â
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.Â
Grandmaâam and Tigres wouldnât survive without him, but if he died, he would at least make sure Sejanus died along with him.Â
If he couldn't have you, Sejanus definitely couldnât.Â
âLets go, Mr Snowâ, Dr Gual urges.Â
She jumps out first. Coriolanus could hear her directing the Peacekeepers on what was about to happen.Â
You rise with Coriolanus. But He doesnât allow you to get to the door as he does.Â
He jumps down and spins, placing his hand on the doors and bringing them closer together.Â
"Stay in the vanâ, he orders.Â
Surely, even on the off chance that a tribute managed to get through the gates, you would be safe in a locked van.Â
You nod your head in understanding, trying to ease his worry.Â
It doesnât work but he appreciates it anyway.Â
He smiles up at you, taking the time to have a good look at you in case it was his last time.Â
With the doors shut on you, he could focus more clearly. He wasnât going to die in that arena. He wasnât going to die by a district hand.Â
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.Â
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.Â
Itâs dark and quiet. The moonlight does little to help. A tribute could jump out at any time and Coriolanus would never see them coming.Â
He was cautious to make any sounds, stepping softly on the fragmented rocks.Â
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.Â
His breath gets caught in his throat while waiting to see who it attracts. He doesnât move.Â
He feels the blood rush to his ears, and his body ready itself to fight. No one comes.Â
Coriolanusâs eyes scan the room for whatever movement he could pick up on. It seemed there was none.Â
With a shaky breath he attempts to continue on, when his heightened ears pick up on a scuffle behind him.Â
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.Â
On its own accord, his face scrunches in anger. His footsteps are louder than he liked as he stormed over to you.Â
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.Â
Previously, he had never thought it possible to be angry with you. Now he wanted to scream in your face until you cried.Â
He helps you down, softly to the ground, and catches your hand harshly in his.Â
âYouâre an idiotâ, he whispers, âStay closeâ.Â
He squeezes your fingers into the palm of his hand, but you make no complaint as you follow him into the arena.Â
Coriolanus felt his anxiety and senses heightened. He could faintly see Sejanus in the moonlight still knelt on the ground next to Marcus.Â
He felt you pull against his hold as you near Sejanus, but he refuses to let you go an inch.Â
If there was a tribute lurking he wanted to know where you were.Â
âSejanusâ, you whisper when you are within earshot.Â
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.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â, he questions in a strained, soft voice.Â
Sejanus takes your arms in his hands. Coriolanus wanted to yank you out of his hold, but a squabble would cause unnecessary attention.Â
âGet her out of here, Coryoâ, Sejanus demands.
âI would like to. Believe meâ, Coriolanus scolds. His eyes darted around the room, ensuring that all was still unnoticed.Â
âI am not leaving without youâ, with your free hand you reach out to take a fist full of Sejanus shirt.Â
âI have to do thisâ Sejanus justifies, âI have to go where the cameras areâ.Â
âYou think anyone is watching this?â Coriolanus spat, taking a step closer to the couple, âGaul cut the feed. Tributes kill you in here, sheâs just going to say you died from the fluâ.Â
âThey wonât kill meâ, Sejanus vows.Â
âYes they will!â you reproach.Â
Maybe there was hope for you, Coriolanus thinks, Maybe Sejanus hadnât brainwashed you fully.Â
The moonlight as it bounces off Laminaâs axe catches Coriolanusâs eye, and the safety net had now disappeared. She wouldnât attack, but she could draw attention at any time.Â
âYou need to decide right nowâ, Coriolanus demands, he breaks Sejanus' hold on you in case you need to run, and focuses Sejanus attention on himself, âdo you want to fight these tributes or fight for them? Because if you want to make real change, you need to stay aliveâ.Â
âHow can I make any change from out there?â, Sejanus discredits his power.Â
He was not worthy of his power if he had no brains on how to use it.Â
âYouâre rich, smart. You care. You stood up to Gaul in that class, didnât you? Spend your fathers money, do some real goodâ, a clash of the metal resounds in the arena. More would wake from the noise, and the group wouldnât stand a chance.Â
âWeâre dead. Y/nâs dead if we donât leave right nowâ, Coriolanus reprimand, âCome with us, or just be another body in Gaulâs warâ.Â
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.Â
Worried that you would get yourself killed in the struggle to save Sejanus, Coriolanus turns to begging as a last resort.Â
Placing a hand on Sejanus' shoulder, he brings the delusional boy closer.Â
âPlease, Sejanus. Weâre friends. Trust meâ, Coriolanus pleaded.Â
You tug on Sejanus' shirt to move, âComeâ you implore.Â
His large, dirty palm goes over your hand, âAlrightâ, he whispers.Â
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.Â
âGo, Run!â he demands, pushing you ahead of him.Â
You sprint as fast as you can across the broken floor. Coriolanus caught up easily, pushing you forward urging you to move faster. Â
Sejanus lagged behind, choosing to look at the fast approaching tribute.Â
âGo! Go!â Coriolanus yells at you when you turn around to see where Sejanus was.Â
You donât look back again, until you reach the turn stalls.Â
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.Â
His hand takes a hold of yours once more as Sejanus approaches the stand with the tribute hot on his heels.Â
He runs forward with you, eager to get you to safety beyond the gates.Â
Sejanus screams as he stumbles over the hard metal and you halt your quick pace to safety.Â
You call for him, trying to tug your hand out of Coriolanusâs. He resists, trying to get you to leave Sejanus.
Coriolanus promises to go back for him once you were beyond the gates but you wouldnât have it.Â
He drops your hand, rathering his own life to be in danger for Sejanus than yours.Â
Coriolanus reaches Sejanus quicker than you do, and yanks him off the ground.Â
âCome on, get up!âSejanus tries to regain his feet but his knee refuses to take any weight, ây/n, get to the gate!â, Coriolanus commands.Â
You donât turn, running towards Sejanus instead of away. You take his other arm over your shoulder, trying to assist Coriolanus.Â
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.Â
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.Â
He scrambles off the ground and swings the cement at the tribute with a loud scream.Â
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.Â
It lands him on the ground, but Coriolanus doesnât stop there, bringing it down once more on the boy who threatened his girlÂ
âCoriolanus!â you call to him. More tributes were coming out of the shadows.Â
He drops his weapon, going back over to you to help lift the weight of Sejanus.Â
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. Â
âY/n, open the gate!â, Coriolanus demands, wanting you to be first out.Â
Sejanus drops his arm from your shoulder, and you take the permission to take off ahead and bang on the gate until it opens.Â
Coriolanus could hear the tributes as they run. They werenât far off. He wasnât sure they would even make it to the gate in time, but you would and thatâs what matters.Â
You push yourself out with the gate as it opens, turning back to look at the boys with wide, fearful eyes.Â
Coriolanus pushes himself to be faster, taking nearly all of Sejanus' weight onto him.Â
They make it just in time, and fall to a heap on the floor next to Peacekeepers boots.Â
Corioanus pushes Sejanus off him. His hand reaches for his shoulder that now weeped blood.Â
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.Â
âKeep your eyes on the screen, gorgeousâ, she taunts Coriolaus, throwing her head in the direction of you, â I may have missed her tonight, but your songbirds next on my listâ.Â
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.Â
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.Â
You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into him.Â
âI am okayâ, he promises. His large hand rubs soothing circles on your back.Â
You pull back in anger and begin hitting his chest as you speak.Â
âHow could you?â, you reprimand, âhow could you do that?â.
âI am sorry, I had to do somethingâ. Sejanus winces as he tries to sit up. His knee no doubt, completely ruined.Â
âYou could have been killedâ, you cry with a push against his attempted hold.Â
Was this the end of the bleeding heart couple? Coriolanus felt a spark of joy, watching as you fought.Â
âCoriolanus could have died!â, as if you had forgotten about him you now turn to him, âOh, Coriolanusâ, you cry, âAre you okay?â.Â
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.Â
âCoryo, I am so sorryâ, Sejanus apologies. It meant nothing to Coriolanus who ignored him.Â
A car screeches to a stop and two car doors slam.Â
The car is sleek and expensive with its own full time driver waiting with the lights on.Â
Next to it stood Ma and Mr Plinth, who were well dressed as always.Â
Ma was crying, but Mr Plinth stood stoic and angry.Â
He gave Coriolanus a thankful nod but remained far away expecting his son to come to him.Â
Ma runs over to her baby, wrapping herself around her sons head.Â
Coriolanus takes the opportunity to move closer to you. You stand upon seeing him approach.Â
âAre you alright?â, he questioned.Â
You reach up, taking his neck and bringing him down into a hug. He gratefully goes, never expecting a hug before the relationship began.Â
âThank you, Coriolanus. I would have died in thereâ, you muttered.Â
The hug is too short, before he is ready you are pulling away to look at his shoulder.Â
âCoriolanus needs help!â, you announce, âSomebody needs to take him to the hospital!â.Â
âCome with meâ, he begs you.
âDonât worry, Miss y/n. Iâll take care of our hero hereâ, Dr Gaul inserts herself where she is not wanted once more. She looked amused at Coriolanusâs physical and emotional pain.Â
âY/n, babyâ, Sejanus calls to you. The driver had left the car to assist Sejanus while his father looks on.Â
Coriolanus reluctantly lets go as you move to the sound of your name.Â
âYouâll look after him?â, you question Dr Gaul. Coriolanus wanted to beg you not to believe her.Â
âHeâll be good as new. You have my wordâ, Dr Gaul promises.Â
He shutters as you move further back.Â
Mr Plinth does not cross for his son, but he crosses to come collect you.Â
He wraps an arm around your shoulder to lead you to the car.Â
You look back at Coriolanus as you are led. Taking one final glance before entering the car with Sejanus.Â
Coriolanus watches as the car takes off. He wondered if you had your arms wrapped around Sejanus in the back.Â
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.Â
âAnd where do you think you are going, Mr Snowâ, Dr Gaul calls out after him.Â
âHomeâ, he announces over his good shoulder.Â
âAnd make a liar out of me?â she walks in the opposite direction towards the Peacekeeper van, âComeâ.Â
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.Â
Dr gaul doesnât speak again until they are back in her lab.Â
He couldnât 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 didnât verbalize his complaints.
âHow did it feel?â she asks as she readies her station for him, âwhen you killed the boy to save y/n?â.Â
He should have known she was watching.Â
âI didnât have a choiceâ, he spat as he unbuttoned his shirt and took a seat in front of her.Â
She laughs at him as she begins her first stitch.Â
âAll 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.Â
âWho would have thought that one day Crassus Snowâs boy would be fighting for his life in the area over a girl?â, he feels her stop stitching while she waits for the answer to her next question, âThat's why you did it no? It wasnât until news of her involvement that you volunteered. Or did you still wish to proceed with the guise of friendship?â
âSejanus is not my friendâ, Coriolanus declares.Â
Her needle work began again, pleased with his answer.Â
âYou want to protect y/n, Mr Snow? Then itâs essential that you accept what human beings are, and what it takes to control themâ.Â
He feels her knot the thread into his skin
âSo Iâll ask you again, when you beat that boy to death with a club, how did it feel?â.Â
âIt feltâ, Coriolanus breathed, wondering if he should give the honest answer. Deciding he had nothing to lose from it, he answers.Â
âIt felt powerfulâ.
âAnswer this next one honestly and you wonât have to walk homeâ, Dr Gaul teases, âWere you hoping that Sejanus died tonight?â
âYesâ, Coriolanus croaks. His own tears welling in his eyes. He refuses to let any more than two fall, which are wiped away harshly.Â
âHow did it feel to have her life in your hands tonight?â, Dr Gaul pushes.Â
Coriolanus nods, unable to form words.Â
A hand is placed on his good shoulder. She squeezes to let him know the sincerity of her words.Â
âPeople will do anything to survive, Mr Snow. It doesnât matter how miserable of an existence it isâ.Â
Coriolanus thinks to his bare apartment, and cinder block bed. It was true, and he was living proof.Â
Survival meant hope.Â
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.Â
Lucy-Gray was the same. Tonight you showed him the same loyalty, and respect that you had denied him previously.Â
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.Â
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.Â
He lets out a low, breathy laugh, remembering Dean Highbottoms words.Â
Maybe the old man could see more than Coriolanus would like.Â
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.Â
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.Â
There were ten tributes left. Not an impossible task for Lucy-Gray to outlive them all.Â
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.Â
âCoriolanus!â. Your voice shocked him as it appeared.Â
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.Â
He would have thought after last night that you would be glued to Sejanusâs side. Was this the beginning of the end?Â
âY/n, what are you doing here?â, he questioned.Â
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.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â, you push back with a hard tone âI went to your house to check on you, but Tigres said you were here?â.Â
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 didnât carry pity, maybe you didnât know.Â
âDonât you ever go to my apartment without my permission againâ, he scolded.Â
That was close. Too close. He was days from getting the plinth prize. Days from burying his decade long shame.Â
You seemed drawn back at his harsh tone. He had never spoken to you unkindly before.Â
In an effort to ease the mood once more, before you left, he threw his hands up as if it wasnât a big deal.Â
âMy Grandmother has severe social anxiety. We canât have unexpected visitorsâ, he lies with a soft and airy tone.Â
âOh, I am sorry. I didnât knowâ, you offer.Â
Coriolanus tuts, bringing his hand up once more to brush the hair off your bruise.Â
âYou shouldnât have been in thereâ, he complains.Â
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.Â
âNo one should be in thereâ, you return.Â
His hand is pushed away again, but he attributes it being too soft to touch, rather than disdain for him touching you.Â
"Thank you for checking on meâ, he says.Â
âYou shouldnât be here, Coriolanus. Not after last nightâ.Â
âLucy-Gray needs meâ, he observes.
Your eyes flick to the screen behind him, before back to Coriolanusâs eyes and nod in agreement.
âSejanus is in the hospital. They have him on morphline. His knee will never work fully, but he is alive and that's because of youâ, you proclaim, âLucy-Gray is fortunate to have you looking out for her. We all areâ.Â
His heart flutters. âWe all areâ, 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 didnât ache, he would have reached out for you.Â
âIf thereâs anything I can doâ, you offer.
âThere is!â He responds too quickly.Â
He clears his throat, trying to conceal his eagerness.Â
âThere isâ, repeats more even toned, âYou could stay. I could use the supportâ.Â
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.Â
âSure, Coriolanusâ, you finally say, although you still looked unsure, âI can stay for a little bitâ.Â
He could barely breathe. The âgreatâ he manages to get out is hardly above a whisper.Â
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.Â
None would so they go back to making traps to catch Reaper.Â
Coriolanus reaches his hand back to you, trying to see how far his luck would take him.Â
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.Â
It was close enough. Leaving Coriolanus with a feeling of satisfaction.Â
The feeling stayed for less than a second. His good mood disappeared when the camera flew back to Lucy-Gray underground.Â
Jessup was getting agitated. Yelling at Lucy-Gray and twitching uncontrollably.Â
âWhatâs he doing?âCoriolanus jumps out of his chair and moves closer to the screens.Â
âTheyâre friends. He wouldnât hurt herâ, you comment, coming up beside him.Â
âSomethings wrongâ, Lysistrata agrees, âHe wouldnât turn on her like thisâ.
Lucy-Gray makes a mad dash away which only further angers Jessup, determined that he had done something.Â
Coriolanus watches in panic. Lucy-gray couldn't defend herself. She would never hurt Jessup, even in his mad state.Â
âGo to the stands, go to the stands!â, he directs.Â
Lucy-gray does go to the stands, climbing up as fast as she could but Jessup was determined to catch her.Â
Coriolanus couldnât watch. He turns and paces, trying to figure out a way to save Lucy-Gray.Â
It couldnât 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.Â
âWait, lookâ, he tells you.Â
Your hand balls at your mouth. He hated to see you so frightened yet again.Â
As soon as this was all over, he would ensure nothing would ever worry you again.Â
âI think it rabies," he announces.Â
He could have danced. There was a way out of this mess. The game wasnât over yet.Â
âThat bite from the trainâ, Lysistrata deducts.Â
âSend him waterâ. He demands of Lysistrata.Â
âWhat? Noâ, she denines.Â
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.Â
âYou remember the posters from the war. Rabies. It makes you scared of water. Send him a droneâ, he demanded.Â
âThatâll scare himâ.Â
He knew Livy had come to care for Jessup
âYesâ Coriolanus agrees in a hard tone, âaway from herâ.Â
Lysistrata still looked in denial. There was no other option, both their tributes didnât have to die.Â
âJessup is doneâ, he says with haste, âLivy, youâre the only one that can get it right to himâ.Â
Coming to grips with reality, Livy does as she is told, sending a water drone in the direction of Jessup.Â
âThank youâ, Coriolanus feels better watching the drone fly in.Â
âNothing to be proud ofâ, Livy mutters.Â
As planned, the drone smashes into him just as he reaches Lucy-gray.Â
He hears you gasp as Jessup falls to his death and hits the bottom with a heavy thud.Â
He turns to see you still with your hand pressed tightly against your mouth, and eyes squeezed shut.Â
The sight makes him feel horrible that he had asked you to stay.Â
You were on the side of his sore shoulder so he had to reach across with his good hand to touch you.Â
âCoryoâ, Livy called as Carolâs group came out of hiding.Â
The hand on you balls watching as Corals group surrounds Lucy-gray.Â
âOh noâ, he complains.Â
He needed to make a distraction, so she could run and hide. He couldnât just stand and watch. But the only thing he could do was send food and water in on badly operated drones.Â
The same badly operated drones that just took Jessup out.Â
He reaches for his communipad, and selects as many bottles of water as it would let him.Â
He didnât need to kill the group. Only give Lucy-Gray a chance to get away
The drones go flying in. He hoped Lucy-Gray wouldnât give the surprise away, but she managed to keep her cool until it was time to duck.Â
âHey! You canât attack the tributesâ a fellow mentor complained.Â
âI am just sending waterâ, Coriolanus jeered.Â
He could hear your chuckle of approval behind him. You reach out to his good shoulder and murmur in his ear.Â
âGood workâ, you encouraged.Â
He wished he could have stayed in the moment but it wasnât over yet. Lucy-gray disappears into the dust, taking with her a bottle of water.Â
She hides in the shelter of the ruin and he can faintly see her take something from her dress pocket.Â
No there, he wanted to say. What if someone saw her poison the water and he was disquailified.Â
He looks around the room to check no one else is noticing. All eyes seemed to be on the group turning against Lamina.Â
Lucy-Gray ducks back out with the water, placing it back on the ground before emptying the others collected. It wasnât a bad idea.Â
Lamina's death stopped the clock and the attention was once more turned back to Lucy-gray.Â
âGoâ you mutter, flicking your hands out as if she could see.Â
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.Â
Coral catches it before it fully closes and it begins a tug of war against the two.Â
âNo, Noâ, you complain.Â
He wanted to shield your eyes from the screen. With every inch Coral got, Lucy-Gray found the strength to tug it back.Â
When it finally closes, sealing Lucy-gray in safety, Coriolanus lets out a sigh of relief.Â
âSheâs Okayâ he says to you.Â
Coral takes out another tribute over a squabble over the water, and Dill drinks the poisoned water.Â
So that was three dead tributes in less than 20 minutes. With this pace Coriolanus would be announced winner before the night ended.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âAre you going to punish me now?â reaper yells to the cameras.Â
He begins to scream again but his words are cut off by a broadcast from Dr Gaul.Â
âCapitol Citizens, Iâm 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 thereâs to be no victor in these gamesâ.Â
The broadcast ends, and the tributes go back on screen.Â
âWhat?â you spit, âWhat does she mean no victor? That's not fair. She can't do thatâ.Â
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.Â
A rainbow of destruction. The snakes. There was no way he could protect lucy-Gray from them.Â
He would need something with her scent. Could he get the string of her guitar that she played in the interviews? He didnât even know where it was. By the time he found it, the Games were sure to be over.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âStay here, okay. Iâll be right backâ. He commands.Â
âWhere are you going?â, you ask astounded that he could be leaving after such news.Â
âJust stay here. Donât moveâ, he reiterated.Â
You nod sensing his urgency and he dashes out of the auditorium into the empty hallway.Â
He knew he couldnât walk into Dr Guals lab without a reason, and begging for Lucy-Grays life wasnât a good one.Â
As he jogs down the steps, he claws at the stitches in his back, reopening the wound.Â
He groans from the pain but ensures all eight stitches have torn open.Â
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.Â
As if she was expecting him, the Peacekeeper lets him directly through.Â
âCome to beg for her life?â Dr gaul asks uninterested.Â
âNoâ Coriolanus puffs, âNo, my stitches. They came loose. I didnât want the doctors asking questionsâ.
She looks at him suspiciously but relents, going to her work table.Â
âCome, pull down your shirtâ, she directs.Â
He walks past a row of black birds locked in cages. Her newest toys.Â
âThe news must have shocked you Mr Snow. With no tributes, no victor, with no victor, no girlâ.Â
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.Â
âY/nâs actually at the auditorium. She came to support me. Sheâs the one who noticed the stitchesâ, Coriolanus lies.Â
âSupport you and not her boyfriend in hospital? Things are looking promisingâ, she says.Â
"Looking promising, looking promisingâ her voice echoes across the room. Seemingly from the mouth of the birds.Â
She sighs and stops stitching to click a receiver.Â
��Jabberjaysâ, she explained, âWe 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 serveâ.Â
Coriolanus remains quiet trying to figure out how he could reach the cage before it was too late.Â
The needle knots in his back, a feeling Coriolanus had come to know to mean that the stitching was done.Â
âIâll see you and your girl back in the auditorium for the finale, Mr Snowâ, Dr Gaul dismisses, âyou should be proud of yourself. Your songbird put on a wonderful show, and you didnât need money to steal the girl after allâ.Â
Coriolanus quickly buttons up his shirt, watching as the cage was wheeled out.Â
âThank you, Dr Gaulâ, he says.Â
He races to catch up to the assistants wheeling the cage, pretending to be following them out.Â
They donât 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
When the harness is lowered, Coriolanus makes a run back to the door, taking his jacket and making his own exit from the Citadel.Â
He pays for the taxi this time. Sure that his body couldnât take anymore strain.Â
It cost him his fathers watch, but he arrived back in the auditorium before the entrance of the snakes.Â
âWhat happened?â he quizzes you, taking a hold of your arm, âLucy-gray is she okay?â.Â
You point to the screen where Coral and Treech poke and prod a vent.Â
âSheâs in thereâ, you address with horror in your voice.Â
Treech points up and Coral takes his palace directly under the vent.Â
Blocking the camera, Treech begins to sway of balance and nose begins leek small amounts of blood.Â
âWait, what's wrong with Treech?â his mentor asks.Â
Corilanious was worried about his own tribute, who was three lucky strikes away from being impaled.Â
Coral hits the metal too many times and the vent collapses on top of her.Â
Coriolanus' hand latches out to yours, which you accept with the same nervous tension in your fingers.Â
âRun, runâ Coriolanus begs.Â
She runs back into the arena. Not the safest place with reaper still sitting by the dead tributes.Â
Coral chases after her, too slow to catch up.Â
The whole arena stops when the chopper lowers in the cage.Â
âPlease workâ, Coriolanus whispers.Â
âWhat is that?â you ask.Â
âWouldnât it be fun if it was candy?â Lucy Flickerman answers you.Â
Coriolanus feels your hand tense in his, then open in surprise when the glass cage cracks and the snakes fly out.Â
âNot candy!â Lucky Flickerman announces as three tributes are overtaken in rainbow.Â
The Snakes chase the last two tribute who head to the stands for higher ground.Â
âLucy-Gray, pleaseâ Coral begs. The snakes lash at her heels as she tries to drag herself up the stands, âPlease it couldnât have all be for nothingâ.
It was. More snakes latch on and Coral dies with two loud screams.Â
âNow all colors lead to Grayâ Lucy Flickerman narrates.Â
The snakes slither up and around Lucy-Gray but none bite her.Â
Coriolanus lets out an unbelievable scoff.Â
âSheâs..Sheâs wonâ 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 couldnât contest his win.
âItâa over. She wonâ, he says in a louder voice. Why was no one doing anything to stop the snakes, âLet her out!â
âAfraid thatâs not your call to make, mr Snowâ, Lucky insists.Â
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.Â
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.Â
But if she squealed on him, he would return the favor.Â
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.Â
Looking to get away from the camera that played on your pain, you pushed your way to the back. Â
âDr gaul. Sheâs wonâ, Coriolanus yells, âItâs over let her outâ.Â
âWhy arenât they attacking her?â Festus asks.Â
Dr Gual raises her eyebrows at him in a mocking fashion.Â
âIt must be the signing. Itâs calming themâ, he deceives.Â
âShe canât sing foreverâ, Festus comments bitterly.Â
She just needs to sing long enough for Coriolanus to figure out a way to get her out.Â
âDr Gaul, pleaseâ, Coriolanus tries, âGet her outâ.Â
He could see the audience engrossed in the scene. He just needed to figure out how to turn it against Dr Gaul.Â
âGet her out!â, you yell across the room, following Coriolanus stare to Dr gaul.Â
Her eyes flick to you and you scream at her once more to release Lucy-gray.Â
Others join, chanting in protest.Â
âWho will watch the games if there is no victor?â he threatens.Â
Dr Gaul raises her hand to silence the audience, before turning to her assistant.Â
âGet her outâ, she says loud enough for everyone to hear.Â
A cheer erupts the auditorium and Dr gaul wades herself through it to the silence of the hallway.Â
âSheâs won! Lucy-Gray! Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the tenth annual Hunger games!â Lucky announces.Â
People rush from the stands to swarm him. Offering him congratulations and applause.Â
It all felt real now. He had done it. The plinth prize, you, were all his now.Â
He pushes to the crowd to get to where you stood in front of the bleaches.Â
You were smiling and clapping. He wasnât sure if it was entirely for him, or if you were just glad Lucy-gray would live.Â
You looked beautiful and for once Sejanus was nowhere by your side. In this moment, you were entirely his.Â
You treated you as such, taking your face between his hands and stilling you for a kiss.Â
His lips smashed against you, his teeth nipped at the skin of your bottom lip asking you to part them for him.Â
You donât pull away at first, but his lips are on you for less than ten seconds before you are shoving against his sore shoulder.Â
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.Â
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.Â
It was impossible to follow you through the crowd of people. People would not part to let him through.Â
Some jeered at him for being pushed away but most still rode his victory wave.Â
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.Â
Coriolanus took a seat while the crowd surrounded him, and then disappeared. He stayed there until he was summoned by a peacekeeper much later.Â
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.Â
âLucy-Gray?â he called, âLucy-Gray?â.Â
He sees a table in the middle of the room with his fathers handkerchief and his mother compact.Â
âTo think, Mr Snow, you almost had it allâ Dean Highbottom's voice taunts him.Â
âWhereâs Lucy-Gray?âCoriolanus demanded. Had they hurt her for Coriolanusâs mistake?
âI would be more worried about yourselfâ Highbottom answered, stalking towards him.Â
âFirst y/n rejects you and now the prize money slips through your fingersâ, Highbottom torments, âitâs fitting that both your parents could be here for your big momentâ.Â
He gestures to the items on the table in front of Coriolanus.Â
âThat compact, how many times did I see your mother use it? Come now, we both know that child from eleven didnât die of disease. And that old handkerchief, we found it in the snake tank, condemning you with your fathers own initialsâ.Â
Highbottom rounds Coriolanus completely before standing in front of Coriolanus across the table.Â
âPresident Ravenstill has left your form of punishment up to me, and Iâve decided banishment to the districts where youâll serve your Capitol in exile for the next twenty years as an anonymous, peacekeeping gruntâ.Â
Dean Highbottom grins at Coriolanus who felt too frozen to do anything.Â
âYouâll never get your hands on y/n. Sheâs too good for you Mr Snow. By the time you get back I imagine her and Sejanus will be married with three or four childrenâ.Â
It was true. Coriolanus wouldnât be able to block the ongoing turn of events that was sure to happen with Sejanus. It wasnât right. It wasnât 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.Â
âYou hear that boy? Thatâs the sound of snow failingâ, Highbottom proclaims.Â
Heâll be left with nothing more than a memory of you, while you will forget completely of the man who loved you so.Â
#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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blushing mess- shy!matt x shy!reader
summary: where shy!matt goes up to shy!reader for the first time
cw: none! pure fluff
an: there is a lot of "uh's" in this chapter to show how nervous they are :)
masterlist | shy!matt x shy!reader | join my taglist
------------------------------------------------
wednesday
the aroma of fresh coffee and pastries hit matt as soon as he walked into the small shop he'd visit frequently. as he stood in line, he examined the room for any open tables he could sit at. he spotted one next to a girl who seemed to be studying. that's the spot, it looks like she's not the type of person to try and make small talk- he had sat to a couple of those people.
hi, can i get a medium caramel iced coffee and a vanilla scone. he rehearsed the order to himself. as he got closer to the register, he kept looking over to the table he wanted to sit at- the girl sitting at the table next to him looked up and locked eyes with him. matt being matt- he looked away as he felt the blush begin to creep up his face. she was pretty- really pretty.
"next in line!" the cashier said. matt gasped and hurried forward. "hello, how are you today." the cashier fixed her hat. "oh- uhm- i'm good today. how are you?" he didn't rehearse this. "i'm good- thank you. what can i get for you today?" she did something on the screen in front of her.
"can i get a- uh- medium caramel iced coffee and a vanilla scone." he fiddled with the debit card in his hand. "unfortunately we sold our last vanilla scone a little while ago." the cashier informed him. matt bit the inside of his cheek.
"do you have a chocolate croissant?" he asked. "yeah, we do." she nods. "i'll take one." one he finished paying, he went and took a seat at the table he had his eyes on. the girl looked up at him and smiled before looking back at her laptop. he scrolled on his phone as he waited for his ordered. from the corner of his eye, he saw the vanilla scone next to her drink.
she must've gotten the last one.
"order for matt!" the barista called out. matt stood up from his chair and walked over to her his drink and pastry. matt went back to his table and glanced over at the girl sitting next to him. she was so focused on whatever was on her screen. he saw how she had a small pout, a slight furrow in her eyebrows, and would occasionally bite her bottom lip.
stop it! she'll think you're weird! he thought and immediately looked away, taking a sip of his drink. as he continued to scroll on his phone and finish his drink and croissant he couldn't help but keep stealing glances.
soon, the girl packed up her belongings and left the cafe. matt frowned. he'll get her next time.
the following days (thursday, friday, monday, tuesday)
the next day, matt returned in hopes to see her again. when he walked in, his eyes scanned the tables, but she wasn't sitting in any of them. he ordered his usual- scone included- and sat down. anytime the door bell chimed open, he looked up, unfortunately she never walked in. on friday- he did the same. matt waited all weekend since the shop was closed to return on monday. on monday and tuesday, there was no sight of her. he was afraid he'd never see her again.
next week wednesday
it was exactly a week later since matt first laid eyes on her. he went back to the coffee shop, only this time he didn't go in hopes of seeing her. he knew he'd never see her again.
"hello, i'll have a- uhm- medium caramel iced coffee and your last two vanilla scones, please." he paid and sat down in his normal table. as he was on his phone- the door chimed opens and out of habit, he looked up. it was her. she walked in with a smile, fixing her tote bag on her shoulder removing her headphones from her ears as she ordered.
although her and the cashiers voices were muffled- he understood what she ordered: a small brown sugar cookie iced coffee and a scone. he had realized he had ordered the last two scones. when his order came out, he picked it up at the counter and went back to his table and sure enough- she was sitting in the table next to his.
he gave her a small smile and sat down mixing his iced coffee with the straw. a few minutes later her iced coffee was ready. she sat back down and took a few sips before returning back to her computer screen.
do it, matt. "did you- uh- did you want a scone?" he asked- even he was surprised by his own voice. "huh?" she didn't quite hear him at first. "a scone- i bought an extra one." he held up the extra scone in the bag. "oh- uhm- are you sure?" a slight blush creeped up on her face- and soon enough he felt his face warming up. "mhm- here you go." he handed it to her.
"thank you.." she waited for his name. "matthew, but you can call me matt- or- or matthew doesn't really matter." she giggled at his nervousness. "thank you, matt. i'm y/n." she smiled, looking away for a split second- the eye contact had gotten a bit too much for her and her face was so hot she was sure it was bright red by now. "you're welcome, y/n." her name rolled off of his tongue easily. the two have each other a smile and turned away from each other.
they both stole glances here and there. until a couple of minutes later when she was starting to pack up, matt had a mental battle with himself. what if she had a boyfriend? even worse- what if she rejects him? or what if he can't even get the sentence out? he sighed to himself. this might be the last time he'll see her.
"hey- uh- y/n." her head whipped from her bag to him. "yeah?" her voice came out soft. she liked this- the attention she was receiving from matt. y/n had always heard from her friends that the boys that went up to them were usually pervs and only wanted one thing. although she was a bit skeptical at first when he offered her his scone. he didn't bother her in a way that made her uncomfortable.
"can i- can i get you number? if that's okay with you, obviously. i- uh- i think you're really pretty. i would love to get to know you." his face beet red- he had obviously never done this before. as soon as those words hit her ears, she blushed. "oh! uhm- sure, yeah- mhm." she nodded, trying to hide her smile had was forming. matt's eyes slightly widen at the face that she had said yes.
"cool- i- uh- here's my phone." he grabs his phone from the table and he unlocks it and goes into the keypad so she can type her number in. "here you go. i'll hear from you soon?" y/n hands his phone back and fixes her bag on her shoulder. "yeah- of- of course! it was nice talking to you."
they soon parted ways.
later that day
unknown
hi, it's matt :)
from earlier today at the coffee shop
#ŕ¨âŻ shy!matt and shy!reader âŻŕ§#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo blurb#matt x y/n#matt x reader#matthew sturniolo fluff#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo headcanon#matt st#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#chris x y/n#chris x you#chris sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo fluff#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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Here's my piece for the @mcspirkevents Big Bang! I was paired with the excellent @twinkboimler and their fic Jim Kirk's Guide to Delivering the Goods, which you can find here (E, AOS McSpirk, 60k)
Summer just started, and Jim is bored out of his mind. The courses he needs to take arenât being offered until the second half of the summer, so he has an entire month to bother his roommate Bones. At Bonesâ suggestion to get a job, Jim fixes up a motorbike and starts making deliveries to people in town, including a cute Vulcan professor named Spock. But when Jim is beaten up while making a delivery, itâs Spock who delivers Jim back to the apartment he shares with Bones. After the meet-cute from hell, Spock and Bones start dating⌠and so do Jim and Spock. With neither roommate aware theyâre both dating the same man, thereâs only so long that things can go well for them before the other shoe finally drops.
Also as part of my Big Bang offerings, I made a fic playlist (below) â partly a love letter to McSpirk, partly a love letter to myself and Fletcher's overlapping music taste.
Thank you again to Fletcher @twinkboimler for working on this project with me, it's been an absolute joy!
Until the Birds Return on Spotify
Tracks and choice lyrics below the cut (contains vague spoilers):
Astronaut | Future Crib
I wanna be an astronaut Fly into space I wanna see Mars from Venus I wanna go to that place And if you come with me They'll be room in my ship I'll take you up there with me It can be just you and me
Afraid of Heights | boygenius
I never rode a motorcycle I never smoked a cigarette I wanna live a vibrant life But I wanna die a boring death
Day by Day | Old Sea Brigade
Time and time again, I think I'm falling through space And I wake up in my bed just sweating in sheets
... Then I think of you growing old and it breaks my heart
Factories | Autoheart
When you found my body by the lake You wasn't sure if I was still alive
You and Your Friend | Snake River Conspiracy
Must we go run through our lives with our eyes closed To the loving happiness that we can share I think I'm in love with you and your friend
My Gal, My Guy | Darlingside
My (guy) he's the bluest ocean, (he) Waits under the bluest sky for me I belong to (him) When I'm in the water
Santa Fe | Autoheart
Heaven sent You were like a present I should not have kept A sticker on your forehead saying 'breakable And I broke you bad
Coat on a Hook | The National
Two days, we're still not talking You're the opposite of an open book Come back for me
Top to Toe | Fenne Lily
So I'm changing all my days To make your nights It's just not right
Pigeon Song | Patrick Wolf
Now the pigeons gather 'round my feeding hand And we talk 'til the evening fades I have learnt how it goes What you wait for never shows And what you least wanted, holds you down like a stone
Hornets | The National
But I don't wanna leave And I don't wanna hide I just don't wanna run Into you tonight
Tea, Milk & Honey | Oh Pep!
If you stick with me, I'll make sure your time is all right If you don't understand where I am now, it's better if we leave it
The Spiritual | Jukebox the Ghost
We might have kissed a bit too soon I could feel what was coming and I didn't mean to hurry you I just knew that time would find our fingers linked, through and through Forgive me, I'm human too
Bike Dream | Rostam
Two boys, one to kiss your neck And one to bring you breakfast Get you out of bed
Don't Go | Yazoo
Can't stop now Don't you know I ain't never gonna let you go
Jenny | The Mountain Goats
I hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you I sank my face into your hair And then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could You were sweet and delicious as the warm desert air And you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on 900 cc's of raw whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest
Old Old Fashioned | Josh Ritter (Frightened Rabbit cover)
Oh let's get old fashioned Back to how things used to be If I get old, old fashioned Would you get old, old fashioned with me?
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Nemesis (The Man I Miss) | Miguel O'hara x M!BlackCat!Reader (TEASER)
CW: jealousy, violence, brutality, self-loathing, implied depression, possessive relationship #NSFW, Top!Miguel, Bottom!Reader, hurt/comfort, anti-hero reader, complicated relationships, lonely reader, crook turned hero, reader is a tired guy, mutual pining - Note: Posting some WIPs I've had laying around for a while while I try to finish up the next HOUND update! Needed a bit of a break from it since it's pretty long, but I hope some teasers make up for the wait. Tysm for reading!
Taking care of Nueva York was exhausting. You were far too used to being the problem rather than the problem-solver. That job reserved itself for the one and only Spidermanâyour Spiderman.Â
At least, you liked to think he was yours.Â
Knowing my luck, the prickâs run off with his shocking wife or something. The thought plagued your mind too often. And it was true: Spiderman disappeared. He no longer served Nueva York and kept it safe, he no longer caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, he no longer gave chase throughout the city before pinning you down on some rooftop and taking his prize by force. And you liked itâno, you loved it. Fucking with the man whoâd always get to fuck you back came to be a part of life you relished.Â
But now you were alone. Left by yourself to deal with lumbering lizards and giggling goblins while wondering how the fuck youâd ended up as a hero when you were anything but. Even the police couldnât believe the switch, which caused some problems, and led to less-sexy chases that ended with you getting away no problem.Â
I wish I had problems. Just one problem, though: Spiderman.Â
You tossed aside your shiny leathers and collapsed into your bed. Heâd never been there, no, but you fantasized about it. You thought about his impossibly wide back and the ripple of taut muscle greeting you in the morning, or maybe his built chest and strong neckâor maybe his handsome faceâwell, youâd never seen his face, but you had your guesses.Â
Your chest twinged the slightest bit, somewhere between where your greed and feelings intertwined.
Ugh. You missed him.Â
â
âWho's that?â Peter remarked as he walked up on Miguel. The lab was dark and dreary, spilling with shades of orange and amber where the blues couldn't reach. And Miguel, the source of the cold, stood in front of the firelight, gazing upon your image in the newscycle.Â
Miguel frowned. âNo one.â But he didn't tuck your image nor the article away.Â
âHuh, looks like Black Cat. A 2099 Black Cat? Never thought I'd see the day.â Peter hummed and bounced a sleepy Mayday in his arms. âHe up to no good?âÂ
âHe's up to good,â Miguel bit out. âThat's the problem. He doesn't do good.âÂ
âHe's sort of an anti-hero these days,â Lyla cut in, blinking into existence on Peter's shoulder like the devil she was. âAll thanks to Spiderman's influenceââÂ
âLyla,â Miguel warned (begged?).Â
â--aaand their sweet, cute budding romance,â she finished with a dreamy sigh. âDoesn't it just melt your heart?âÂ
â
You pinned him against the wall and let your hands trace through the hard lines of his muscles on your way down to your ultimate prize. Spiderman shuddered and stayed still, much to your surprise, letting you feel him, letting you acknowledge the hardness bulging under your criminal touch. Because he dreamt of this too. Dreamt of you touching him, of you falling down to your knees, your eyes never leaving his masked face even when you pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to stretched fabric holding back his filled cock.Â
âSo strong,â you cooed, âbut not strong enough to resist, hm?â You sighed and worked him through the fabric with one hand. âShouldnât you be stopping the big bad from manhandling you like this, Spidey?â
âHardly consider you the big bad,â he scoffed back. Spiderman tilted his head back with a choked groan whent hose diamond-tipped clawed gloves dug into his thighs. âMierda, youââ
âOh?â You grinned, so cheshire, so in-theme with your persona. âYou can stop me any time, no?âÂ
He couldâve. But he didnât.Â
â
âA daughter,â you murmured. The flickering imagesâmemories, maybe?âwere there, waiting quietly for you, preserved and kept precious in shades of amber. But the scene was so alive; you could feel the stretch of the sun against your gloved touch, you basked in the crisp Spring air of that soccer game, you drowned in the warmth of that father's smileâ
Spidey's smile. That was beyond obvious. The mountainous shoulders, the tawny skin, those handsâ they belonged to him. Your beast. Your nemesis and lover, the man you hadnât seen for far too longâ
âBecause you've been off taking care of a kid?â Your fingers, gentle, feather-light, ghosted across that foreign memory. âWhy wouldnât you tell me?â Whoâs your baby mama?
The lab lights stilted and jittered. You snapped from your trance and made for the window youâd come in through, not bothering to see what was happening with your system jammersâyou knew Lyla, she knew you, and that made the whole breaking-into-Spidermanâs-base thing more tricky and risky. Your jammer wasnât fool-proof. It was quite easy to override, actually, but the interference was the difficult thing to detect in the first place. You only thought youâd need a handful of minutes to see your spider, anyway.
But he wasnât there. Maybe he was off with his little girl.Â
Something cacophonous and nerve-wracking churned to the sound of warping electricity behind you as you dove from the window and slid down the side of the skyscraper, claws shrieking against metal and glass alike until you could launch off and latch onto a passing hover car. The periphery of your mind swore it saw flashes of orange and yellow, more violent and heavy than the screens you stared at in that dower room, and maybe you might have heard a familiar voice too.Â
The broad, tiny silhouette standing in that abandoned window gave you much more to think about. -- Feel free to comment on this post if you want to be tagged for the full version!
@kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#miguel o'hara#spider-man 2099#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x male reader#spider-verse x reader#spider-verse x male reader#spider-verse#marvel comics x reader#marvel comics x male reader#marvel comics#phyrestartr#jealousy#violence#brutality#self-loathing#implied depression#possessive relationship
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Fam out 2 - Sophia Laforteza
Sophia Laforteza X ReaderÂ
Synopsis - Sophia still loves when you're caring, she REALLY loves it!Â
Genre â Fluff, still a little suggestive at the end ;)Â
a/n - Thank you anon who asked for this, I wasn't going to do second part but I loved it, so here it is <3 request
Part 1 Part 2
MAMA 2024 happened, the girls on stage, the bright lights, the well-executed choreography, the excitement, it all happened very fast. One moment the girls were on stage and the next Sophia was in your arms. The Filipino girl seemed happy and relieved that it was over, the comfort of your arms helped Sophia's breathing to calm down and everything seemed perfect. Â
Until you hear unregulated breathing. But not like that one when you're just tired, no, that one looked different. Moving away from Sophia slightly, you can see a Yoonchae seemingly hyperventilating. And then it was like everything got a little murky.Â
"Yoonchae, are you okay?" You said, your hand linked to Sophia's as you dragged the black-haired girl closer to the youngest. Â
Panic set in when the younger girl didn't respond verbally, just looking at you with tears in her eyes. It seemed that Yoonchae's legs would give way at any moment, and that's exactly what happened. Your sixth sense helped hold the girl before her knees hit the ground.Â
"CAN SOMEONE BRING A CHAIR, PLEASE!" You screamed. Â
"There's a sofa in the dressing room, can you take it?" A staff member says as he points the way.  Â
You gently took Yoonchae in your arms, carrying it in bridal style. As you followed the staff, you could hear Sophia trying to calm the girls, who were coming quickly after you.Â
"Yoonchae, dear, keep your eyes open, breathe with me, I'm here, okay. It's going to be okay." You repeated it like a mantra.Â
"It's going to be okay," was what you kept repeating in your head, knowing that staying calm was best in this situation, because that way you had a better chance of calming Yoonchae down faster, and wouldn't leave the Kats in total panic. Â
Laying Yoonchae on the couch, you asked someone to get some water, Megan quickly stepping up. Daniela tried to stay calm along with Lara, the two wondering if they could do something to calm the situation. Â
"Yoonchae, here, I'm here. Breathe along with me, okay?" The younger girl shaking her head. Â
Yoonchae tried to imitate the speed of your breathing, holding your hand, the younger girl looked into your eyes. Megan had handed the bottle of water to Sophia, who was now looking at the scene with a heavy heart.   Â
As Yoonchae's breathing calmed, everyone's nerves were lowered. Still holding your hand, Yoonchae drank water, receiving scratches on her head, from Sophia. Your girlfriend now looking at you, when your eyes met, you felt relieved, the comfort of knowing that you managed to handle the situation. Â
As the leader of Katseye, sometimes Sophia was called to meetings and things like that, you didn't know much, but you knew that whenever Sophia came home, all she wanted was to sleep clinging to you. Â
So today, you decided to go to the Kats' house to wait for your girlfriend to arrive, greeting the girls when you arrived and going to the room that Sophia shared with Yoonchae. You knocked before entering, even though Yoonchae was probably asleep. But the biggest surprise was when the younger girl opened the door. Â
"Hey Yoonchae, I thought you were sleeping. I brought you some things." You said lifting the bag so the girl could see. Â
"What did you bring?" She asked, dragging you inside. Â
"Nothing much, just a few snacks." you said. Â
Minutes later you and Yoonchae were lying in the younger one's bed, a movie Yoonchae chose playing on TV while you and the younger one devoured the snacks you had bought.Â
When the door to the room was opened, none of you noticed. Sophia, who had finally arrived from a meeting, quickly got a warm heart watching the scene. The movie was still playing on television, but you and Yoonchae had been asleep for a long time. The younger girl's head resting on your shoulder, by this time Yoonchae had a blanket wrapped around herself, while you froze to death. The bag of snacks was almost empty, only one package of candy was closed, Sophia recognized that, they were her favorites. Â
The Filipino girl wasted no time, taking a picture of you and Yoonchae and making a mental note to post later on her Instagram. Lightly kissing your cheek, Sophia went straight to the shower, she couldn't wait to join you two.Â
Olivia Rodrigo's concert seemed like a dream for Sophia and Yoonchae. They were both extremely excited and even if you couldn't keep up with their excitement, it was great to see your favorite girls so happy. Â
 Now, you've always been a calm person, few people had really seen a more aggressive side of you. Today, you didn't expect to be stressed, despite the huge queues and the large concentration of people in the same place, you were happy because Sophia and Yoonchae were happy. But now, you were no longer sure about it. Â
Forgetting your wallet in the car seemed like a normal thing, at least boring, I mean, people forget things all the time. Leaving Sophia and Yoonchae in line, you quickly went to your car and grabbed your wallet, oh, how you wished you hadn't done that. Â
As you walked closer to the girls, you can clearly see a guy hitting on Sophia. Normally this wouldn't make you so angry, but the fact that the guy was trying to hold Sophia against the wall made his blood boil. Getting closer you can hear Yoonchae say something, but all your decency was thrown into the air when you heard him reply "Shut up brat," while still holding Sophia to the wall with his arms.Â
Coming up behind the guy, you can see the look of relief on your girlfriend's face, which soon turned to concern when you grabbed the guy by the back of the sweatshirt he was wearing. Â
"Stay away from her, you fucking idiot." You said, holding on tight as the guy struggled. Â
Looking at the boy's face for the first time, you can see how pathetic he looked. He was a little shorter than you and slightly taller than Sophia, he looked like he was about nineteen and had horrible bangs. Â
"Sorry, please, I thought she was single." The boy said, it felt like he was about to start crying. Â
"I said she had her girlfriend you idiot." Yoonchae said glancing at the boy. Â
"And I told you to shut up!" The boy answered without thinking. Â
"HEY!" By shifting the grip from the back to the front of the boy's sweatshirt, you pulled him up to your eye level. "You'll never talk to her like that again, do you understand?" Â
The boy quickly shook his head.Â
"Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know she was with you, please let me go." Â
Not wanting to get in trouble with the security guards and also not wanting to ruin the girls' night even more, you let go of the boy with brutality, which made him trip and fall on his butt on the floor. Â
"Get the hell out of here before I change my mind, you asshole." Â
The boy ran away making you snort with such mediocrity. Â
 "Wow, I had never seen that Yn side of you, it was always the calm Yn." Yoonchae said, while laughing. Â
Sophia just looked at you with a smile. Â
"Sometimes idiots make me mad."Â
Finally you could enter the stadium to find your seats. With Yoonchae a little in front, without leaving your view, you felt Sophia grab your bicep as she leaned close to your ear. Â
"That guy was an idiot, but I kind of enjoyed seeing you all mad..." The Filipino girl said as she bit her lower lip. Â
"You liked it, did you?" you asked, seeing Sophia shake her head positively, knowing exactly where this was going. Â
"I'll show you how much I enjoyed it when we get home."Â Â Â
____________________________
damn, I have to stop making the endings always seem suggestive (I won't stop)
#gxg#katseye#kpop gg#katseye imagines#katseye x reader#kpop fluff#sophia laforteza x reader#sophia laforteza#sophia laforteza x you#yoonchae x reader#daniela avanzini x reader
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little sis
summary:Â in which you have a protective older brother
requested? yes by anonymous
word count: 1117
warnings:Â severide!reader
a/n:Â this was requested and started before jack damon existed... sevâs really got siblings coming out of the woodwork đ
Â
want to be tagged? link in bio <3
When you found out that you had a long-lost older brother, you werenât entirely surprised. Your father, Benny Severide, was notorious for abandoning his family â no, his families. He left you and your mom when you were young, dropping by every other month for a weekend of good old father-daughter bonding. Those visits became less frequent as time went on when he remarried, again, and had two stepsons who you never met. Another new family. You were in your early twenties when your mom got sick and when she was near her death bed, she told you about your brother.
Kelly Severide.
You immediately searched him online once you found out he was a firefighter in Chicago, and after reading dozens of articles about the people heâs saved, you knew you had to meet him. All you had was his name and where he worked, so you traveled to Chicago and showed up at his firehouse. The connection was immediate and the bond you formed was unlike any relationship in your life, one of unconditional love and support. You decided to move there to be closer to him, since he was the only real family you had left, and he let you stay with him while you got on your feet. He was your big brother in every sense of the word. Which meant, unfortunately, he was protective of your relationships. Over-protective, one could say. Scratch that â one would say, because he is.
That is the biggest reason youâve kept your new relationship a secret from everyone. If you could create the perfect man in a lab, he would be Jay Halstead. Youâve been dating for three months now, and it is without a doubt the healthiest relationship youâve been. For the first time in maybe ever, you felt seen. The only problem is that you are afraid of your older brotherâs reaction to dating someone he knows, someone that is older than you and someone who lives such a dangerous job. Ironic.
Kelly and Jay have worked together before and while theyâve never been close friends, their mutual friends all hanging out together at Mollyâs is what led you into Jayâs arms to begin with. Hell, they even dated the same girl in the past, which makes the whole situation even more risky. You valued Kellyâs opinion more than anything and knowing he disapproved of your relationship might actually break you. Because as hard as you are falling for Jay, if your brother told you to choose, you know who it would be.
âDo you want another beer?â Jay calls out from the kitchen.
The sound of his melodic voice pulls you from your wallowing and you call out, âSure!â You bite at the nail on your thumb, a nasty habit your mom tried for years to break, getting lost in thought again until he settles next to you on the couch. You jump slightly, muttering a thanks and grabbing the outstretched bottle from his hand.
Jay studies you for a moment, âYou okay?â Before you can word-vomit all over him, a knock on the door of your apartment sounds. âAre you expecting someone?â
âNo,â you hum as you check the time on your phone, âMaybe the pizza is early.â You set your beer on the coaster and stand, shuffling over and peering through the peephole. Eyes widening, you jump back from the door like itâs on fire. âItâs Kelly!â you whisper-shout, spinning around to face him with wide eyes. âYou have to hide.â
He lets out a chuckle, âSeriously?â When he realizes you are not laughing with him, Jay arches a brow and lets out a scoff, âYouâre serious.â He stares at you for another beat, waiting, but you just arch your brows and gesture towards the other room. Feeling a bit ridiculous but also understanding how nervous you are about your still relatively new relationship with your brother, he relents with a shake of his head, muttering something unintelligible under his breath as he hides in the bathroom.
You let out a shaky breath, calming your nerves before unlocking and opening the door with a forced smile. âHey bro!â you try not to cringe at the sound of your own voice, clearing your throat. âWhatâs up?â
The older man studies your face, biting back a smile, âCan we talk?â
Before you can answer, he takes a step forward and gently pushes his way into your apartment. You swallow nervously as you close the door, eyes ticking towards the half-closed bathroom door before turning and following him deeper inside. âIs everything okay?â
âYou tell me,â he counters with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. When you simply furrow your brows at him, he clicks his tongue. âI heard a rumor about you.â
You canât help but snort as you fold your arms over your chest, âAre we in high school?â Kelly chuckles at the sass, still getting used to the whole younger sister thing. âSorry,â you give a sheepish shrug, âWhat kind of rumor?â
âAre you dating someone?â
You blink, shuffling between your feet, âWh-what?â When he doesnât respond, just sends you a look, you sigh and mumble an answer.
He lifts a hand to his ear, âWhat was that?â
Narrowing your eyes, you fight a smile at his teasing, âMaybe. How did you know?â
âA buddy of mine thought he saw you at dinner the other night at Rinaldiâs. I thought it was a mistake, since you said you couldnât have dinner with me and Stella because you had to work. But now that I think about it, youâve been acting kind of secretive lately.â
Guilt washes over you at the reminder of your lies, âIâm sorry. IâI wasnât ready to tell anyone yet. Itâs still new.â
Kelly smiles softly, âWell, Iâve also noticed youâve been happier lately. Seeing you happy⌠Thatâs all that matters to me. So, I just wanted you to know that I approve.â
Approve? Did he⌠did he know? No, he couldnât. If he knew it was Jay that you were at dinner with, wouldnât he have mentioned that part already? Surely, he wouldâve. After a moment of spiraling, you actually digest his words and blink back the sudden rush of unexpected tears. You clear your throat, âThanks.â
Nodding, he takes a few steps closer, âThatâs all I wanted to say.â
âOkay,â you nod back, not turning around as he walks towards the door.
âActually, one more thing,â his voice cuts through the silence and you glance over your shoulder with a curious look. A devilish smirk tugs at his lips as Kelly nods his head towards the bathroom, âTell Halstead he owes me a beer.â
#jay halstead#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead x reader#jay halstead x you#jay halstead fanfiction#chicago pd#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd fanfiction#gifs are not mine: ask if you would like yours removed
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Thankful ; Jimmy Darling x Reader
summary: đŚ It's Thanksgiving, and the troupe is enjoying a collaborative dinner. You're sat next to Jimmy Darling, who you've been flirting with on and off for the past week. After dinner, you discover that he's still hungry.
word count & w a r n i n g s: 1.9K! | food mention, mentions of arousal (both male and female), semi-established relationship, semi-public making out and cunnilingus.
a/n: requested by @american-horror-whore! I hope this was everything you wanted bby!! thanks for the request, I so so so missed writing for my boy. also happy early thanksgiving to my followers!! i'm super thankful for all of you guys! divider by @/strangergraphics
â full fic under cut! â / ao3 link here! / I donât have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if youâd like to be notified of future fics!
Itâs Thanksgiving, and youâre feeling mighty thankful. That was for sure. You scoop the last bit of sweet potato casserole into your fork, smiling over at Eve as she recounts one of her favorite stories from days past. Youâd been a member of the show for a month now, but theyâd wasted no time in making you feel like youâd been there since the beginning. Youâd found a specific sort of camaraderie there, the kind that only comes from shared experiences and understood feelings. It must be similar to a sort of sorority or something.
Jazz drifts from the record player in the corner, serenading everyone with a relaxed romanticism. The wooden table is stuffed with dishes; almost everyone had pitched in to make something for the dinner. Youâd made the stuffing, and helped Ethel with the turkey. As a little extra decoration, youâd gathered some of the fall leaves and scattered them along the table, which paired nicely with the candles that Elsa had brought in from her tent. Everyone was in good spirits, but especially Jimmy Darling, who, like everyone, had been indulging in a little of his mamaâs hooch.
Heâs drunk, his complexion flushed and healthy. He keeps leaning into you, letting one of his large hands make a fist in your skirt, hiking it up and tugging it towards him. You scoot closer â as close as you can without being on his lap. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, but you canât help it; the butterflies that he gives you take control of your system the second heâs in the room. Â
âHey dollface,â Jimmy suddenly murmurs next to you. âPass the pie, would yaâ?âÂ
âOnly if you cut me a piece too, JimmyâŚâ
You donât wait for an answer before pushing yourself up off the bench just enough to reach the plate of pumpkin pie, carefully sliding your hand underneath the ceramic dish. Desiree had baked it along with the sweet potato casserole that afternoon and you were fairly certain that everyone had been eyeing it the entire dinner. The top of the pie was a perfect orange, glazed and delicious, while the crust was a delicious looking golden brown. To top it off, it was still warm.Â
You set the pie in the space between you, smiling politely at Jimmy as he got to work cutting out a slice with his fork. The first one goes to you with a bright, crooked smile; he was always such a thoughtful, handsome gentleman. Admittedly, that was part of the reason that you two had been courting each other for a week now, secretly meeting to kiss and explore each otherâs warm bodies in the dead of night. You werenât embarrassed of him, nor shy, but he was very aware of the rest of the troupeâs prying eyes, specifically Elsaâs and thought it better if for now, you two kept things quiet.  Â
Eveâs eyes flit to yours, a tender smile on her lips. You think she knows, but sheâs got enough sense not to say anything. You blink slowly and turn your attention back to Jimmy, who has his hand on your bare thigh now, fingering the silky hem of your nylons. Underneath the table, you toy with Jimmyâs ankle, rubbing your own against it and lifting the pant leg. He lets out a little moan through closed lips â inaudible to everyone but you â and squeezes the meat of your thigh. With a mean poker face, Jimmy takes a forkful of the pie and shoves it into his mouth. To everyone else, he just looks a little buzzed â which he is. But to you, he looks buzzed and horny; from the way those brown eyes are half-lidded and heavy to the way his jaw hangs slack every time he looks over you, scanning your body and kneading your thighs like dough. You pick up the tiny nuances of his arousal and gobble them up as quickly as you do the pie.Â
The rest of the dinner goes on with laughter and shared stories until Elsa announces that she must get her sleep. Ethel stands up to begin clearing the empty dishes. You get to your feet and help her, knowing full well that she intended to do it all herself.Â
Once you finish, you head out of the main tent, wiping your hands on the back of your dress. Everyoneâs dispersed. Jimmyâs gone â probably stumbled back to his trailer in a drunken food coma. You laugh to yourself and head back to your caravan.Â
Just as you pass his trailer, Jimmy emerges from the shadows, a flash of skin as his conjoined fingers wrap around your smaller wrist with ease. âNo, no⌠where do you think youâre goinâ, sweet face?â He tugs you back towards his trailer. âBaby, câmereâŚâÂ
His back hits the metal exterior of his caravan with a thud and he pulls you atop of him, wrapping both his arms around your lower back. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was coincidence. Whatever it was, had put your trailers next to each other the day youâd rolled in. That made it very easy for you two to canoodle whenever you wanted without attracting too much attention.Â
Hidden in between the two trailers, amongst the sound of rustling grasses and distant cars, you press your lips against his plush, pink ones and dive in. Kissing Jimmy is like licking the inside of a honey pot; itâs addicting, warm and the saccharine notes of his kisses coat your tongue. Every single time. You fall into the familiar rhythm of kissing him, grinding your hips back against his as he urges them into yours. Youâve been here before, many times in the last seven days, but it hasnât gotten old yet.Â
Your nimble fingers reach up, pulling the shirt buttons from their slits until you reach his belly button, and stop, too distracted with the way heâs kissing you to continue. âOh, Jimmy,â you say against his skin. The chill of the November air contrasts with the heat that rolls off his bare skin.
âIâm still hungry,â he growls into the curve of your ear, peppering feverish kisses along the nape of your neck. You canât help but chuckle softly as you lean your head to the side, amused that at a time like this, Jimmyâs thinking of food. With your hands planted firmly on his pectoral muscles that are exposed through his half-open shirt, you gently push him off and look into his coffee black eyes.Â
âWell, Jimmy, thereâs plenty of leftovers â you shouldâve eaten more! We can ââÂ
âNo, baby. Not that kind of hungry.â His hips punctuate his sentence as he drives them into the soft flesh of your upper thigh.Â
Feeling the rigid bulge against your thigh, your breath catches in your throat. You reach down and pull his head off of you, his lips still poised to kiss. You let out a giggle and move your hands down his neck.Â
âYours or mine?â You ask, flipping the collar of his shirt between your fingers.Â
âWeâre facing yours.âÂ
Bracing yourself against his trailer, you push yourself off of it, and grip the collar of his shirt like a leash on a dog, towing him in the direction of your quaint little caravan. You carefully walk up the steps and throw open the door, muttering a word of warning to not trip. He does anyway, too drunk and too horny to watch his feet.Â
As soon as youâre inside, Jimmyâs got his hands wrapped around your waist and he doesnât hesitate before lifting you up onto the small kitchen counter. Giving you room to sit, he pushes the tins of coffee and tea back against the wall. His hands slip underneath the fabric of your dress, ghosting along the curve of your ass and to the roundness of your thighs, his fingers leaving trails of heat everywhere they go.Â
âMmm, baby, you feel like youâve got a fever. Your bodyâs on fireâŚâÂ
You hum, adjusting your hips on the counter. âThere ainât a single person to blame for that besides you, JimmyâŚ.âÂ
He chuckles and lets his hands continue their journey, sweeping around to the front of your kneecaps, which he gently pulls apart. His inky hues connect with yours as he slowly lowers, getting to his knees in front of you. You watch him with quirked lips, indicating amusement, though your eyes are bleeding lust.Â
Jimmy takes your dress in his hands, lifting it up to expose your center. The satin of your panties is already stained with arousal. Itâs leaking into the fibers and creating a wet spot.
âHoooâ, baby⌠look at that.â His smile is proud, delighted that heâs responsible for it.Â
âI hope you saved room.â You tease.Â
âOh, honeyâŚâ Jimmy runs his thumb along the clothed slit, and you shiver. âI always have room for dessert.âÂ
His fingers hook around the elastic of your panties and yanks them down. He leaves your garter belt on, as it poses no nuisance to him. Now free of fabric, your cunt clenches visibly as he nears her. His lips part, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your slick folds. Your hand snaps to his shoulder, gripping it hard. âFuck, Jimmy⌠IâŚâÂ
Your hand moves to gather the dress of your skirt up, pinning it in place. The other hand finds a home in Jimmyâs soft, brown locks, pulling tight as his tongue laps at your cunt with a flat tongue. You mewl happily. What a sight; your nylon-covered legs over the shoulders of the most handsome man youâd ever met, his head buried between your thighs.Â
His tongue flexes, points, and flicks at your quickly swelling clit. You shudder and clamp your legs around his head, a full body reaction. âHuh⌠Jimmy⌠oh my god.âÂ
He kisses her again, his tongue stretching down to meet your leaking entrance. Now heâs the one vocalizing; youâre sweet, pink and wet and he canât help himself. Another kiss, but he closes his lips around your clit to suck on it gently.Â
He pulls away, just for a second to ask: âFeel good?âÂ
You nod hurriedly and tighten your grip in his hair, pulling his head back and forth onto your cunt. Your middle finger twirls around a single curl and you hum a string of expletives, forcing his tongue deeper into your folds.Â
âMm! â yeah! â baby! ââ Jimmy says in between your forced thrusts. Heâs not used to you taking control like that, but like hell heâs going to complain.Â
The white hot coil in your stomach winds tighter, creating an inexplicable pressure in your lower abdomen. Jimmyâs relentless, as if he knows this, and keeps at it. Not that you had any plans of loosening your grip on his locks. Mirroring your strength, Jimmyâs hands grip your thighs tight, pressing them open as far as theyâll go. You throw your head back and a deep moan escapes your lips, expelling some of the built up tension.Â
âFuck, fuck⌠Jimmy⌠right there⌠right thereâŚ.âÂ
Jimmy suckles your swollen clit, and brings one hand to your entrance, teasing an intrusion with the tips of his fingers. They breach it, just enough to make your whole body tense up, and the coil snaps. All at once, you buck your hips forward, forcing Jimmyâs digits inside your cunt, his nose bumping into the flesh above her. He feels every shuddering clench, and rides it out, lapping at her like an ice cream cone.Â
Once the slick pulses subside, he pulls back and brings his palm to his face, wiping his glistening chin. For a second, he admires it, tilting his hand back and forth, watching as the collected spit and arousal catches the light.Â
âMm-mm-mmm! Now thatâs something to be thankful for, baby.â
Through labored pants, you mutter a response. âOh, Iâll show you thankful, baby. Get on the bed.âÂ
#Jimmy Darling#Jimmy Darling x you#Jimmy Darling x reader#Jimmy Darling x y/n#AHS Freakshow#American Horror Story#American Horror Story Freakshow#myfics#requests#female reader#x reader
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The Emperor and His Lady
Spoilers for Gladiator 2, following the movie's plot to a certain extent.
Summary: Another victory for the Roman Empire; as the celebrated general returns home, he is greeted by the twin Emperors, Geta and Caracalla. In the shadows, he is greeted by a powerful ally who has yet to fully understand her power over her emperor.
Word Count: 1.2K
This will be a series. Part 2
No tags for now, but it will change throughout the story.
Hundreds of people cheered for him as General Acacius rode into the square. The twin emperors, Geta and Caracalla, were waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Forcing down a grimace, General Acasius walked up to meet and salute his emperors. The crowd of senators, nobles, and the emperors' concubines watch their interaction, seeing how the general kissed Getaâs hand in respect as Emperor Geta led the three men into the inner chambers. The crowd dispersed, leaving one lady waiting in the background. Lady Arabella, noble at birth, her father and uncle senators, stood behind a column. Although noble, she was technically a concubine.
Her father, ever the ambitious man, wanted more power than his current seat, so when she was 11 years old, she was offered to Emperor Geta when he was still a prince at 14, hoping that Geta would one day make her his Empress. Unfortunately, he has yet to fulfill her father's dream. However, according to what the other concubines say, she is considered one of Getaâs favorites. Geta and Caracalla tended to switch out their lovers every few years for boredom or other reasons. Years come and go, and concubine by concubine gets switched all but her; Geta has never pushed her away, even if they had years of not laying with each other. The last time she lay with the emperor was when she was 15 and he was 17. She was now 21, and he was 24, but he always kept her close.Â
As she waited, she hummed a distant lullaby, a sad one someone close to her would sing as they reminisced about a lost love. Her musing was broken as the chambers opened; she hid in case it was the twins, not wanting to pretend to be happy to see them, especially Caracalla. Arabella could not stand the younger of the two. Upon seeing the General, Arabella grinned, stepping out of the shadows to greet her friend.Â
âGeneral, Rome thanks you for your service to her.â Arabella sweetly greeted.Â
Marcus Acacius smiled at the young girl, taking her smooth hand into his, and pressed a quick kiss. âLady Arabella, how do you fare, young one?âÂ
Arabella smiled, linking her hands behind her back; it would not be suitable for her or the general to be seen holding hands. Of course, he would never dishonor his wife, and she did not need problems with Geta.Â
âWell as I can be, stuck in this grand palace, General, although visiting your wife provides me great comfort.â She explained, letting him know that she and the former empress provide great comfort to each other.Â
âThat is good, although Iâm surprised our Imperator lets you have such liberties so often?â confessed Acacius, his smile growing as Arabella shrugged. The little lady did not seem to understand her power over Geta.Â
As the two converse for a quick while, they both heard footsteps coming their way. Both turned and bowed at Geta and Caracalla coming towards them. Arabella grimaced, hoping Geta was in a good mood; she did not need to have rageful Geta in her hands. As the twins stopped before the lady and general, Caracalla lustfully slid his eyes over Arabellaâs body. The lady was beautiful; there was no doubt, her doe brown eyes giving the allusion of innocence, her brown curly hair that she always kept up, allowing a few strands to frame her round face. She never wore too much makeup; she was a beauty, and it always made him jealous that she was Getaâs and Getaâs only. Geta never even touches her, which is what makes him upset; from what he knows, she has only laid with his brother twice since she was made a concubine. She is the only original concubine he and his brother never shared, and when he asks Geta, he becomes dark and threatens him. What was so special about this girl that he couldnât have?Â
âImperators,â greeted Arabella, never letting her sight fall on either brother.Â
Geta stares at Arabella for a while, seemingly disinterested, before turning to Marcus Acacius.Â
âGeneral, I would expect you riding to your household to greet your wife that you so desperately say you miss⌠not conversing with a concubineâŚand mine to addâŚâ Drawled Geta, annoyed at his brotherâs taunting smirk and a little laugh.Â
Before Geta could snap at his brother to quiet, he was interrupted by a soft voice.Â
âIt was my fault, Imperator; I spoke to him first; I apologize for my transgressions,â replied Arabella, not wanting the general to be on thin ice with them because if Acacius were in trouble, it would lead to Lucilla. Arabella did not push this on the woman she considered a motherly figure to her.Â
 Caracalla and Acacius froze at the interruption; no one stupid enough would ever interrupt Geta while he was speaking.
As the tension grew, Arabella inhaled, praying to the gods Virtus and Mars for bravery. She raised her eyes to Geta, letting her brown eyes meet his. As the two stared at each other, the emperor and lady, it felt like a pin could drop and create the loudest echo. Another beat went by as Geta closed his eyes and exhaled, walking away and calling for his brother to follow him, then barking for the concubines to be brought to the entertainment room. This left Arabella exhaling in relief and smiling at Acacius. Acacius stared at the lady in shock, again surprised at how much power she had over the older twin emperor.Â
âGeneral, please let my Lady know I shall visit her in the morn to break my fast with herâŚrest well,â lightly commanded Arabella as she inclined her head with respect and walked the opposite way where the emperors were, seemingly she was the only concubine not entertaining them tonight.Â
Again, amazed that Arabella did not seem to understand her stance and power, he inclined his head towards the little lady and walked to his horse, wanting to reunite with his wife.Â
As Arabella watched the general leave, she sighed in despair, being left alone again in a place she knew she did not belong. She walked to her chambers, and she was lucky; she knew that. While the other Conbuines had to share a section of the palace, ready to please their Imperators, she had her private chamber far from the emperors' chambers. She supposed being a daughter and niece of two well-respected Senators provided that perk. Arabella sunk into her chair and stared at her reflection. Another day in her prison, alone with no true friends, she is used as a pawn for an achievement she will never get. She knows she will never be empress; Geta enjoyed his freedom from marriage too much to consider that notion. She just wondered what was his gain in keeping her locked up, never touching her, and seemingly not interested in being close to her. Was it to keep her father in check? She supposes that was the reason she was a hostage bargain. Humming the sad lullaby, her eyes dimming, she began to unravel her hair, combing it as tears pooled in her eyes.
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1000 Follower Celebration
I never thought much of my work so I've waited to do celebrate until 1000. For those who've followed and anyone who liked, commented, or reblogged anything, here is an event as thanks. Please know that this blog and those in this fandom mean so much to me. I read every tag, comment, and reblog and they make my day every time.
If you've followed me for awhile you'll know my writing can be slow and fickle. As a thank you I am committing to fulfilling the requests I receive between November 23rd - November 30th. After that I'll be closing my requests until I work through them.
Now let's get to it!!
Some quick rules
Pick up to 3 prompts.
I'll take individual character requests or something like "members of the 501st/Bad Batch reacting to" requests as well.
I will be doing requests for Clones/Star Wars first and then any previous fandoms I've written for.
I will not be taking anon requests for this event
Let me know what character(s) you want.
If you have them, please state SFW/NSFW preferences
If you have them, please state what gender preference you have.
I retain the right to not write prompts that are uncomfortable/extreme for me.
Tell me as many details as you want, it really helps! You can DM me too if you'd like to discuss.
If you've submitted previous request you'd still like done, feel free to send it again. Tumblr has vanished some requests and I've never seen them again
Please be patient, I waited until life calmed down to focus on this event but writing takes time.
Prompt List
My favorite prompts are the personal ones. If you've been going through anything and you'd like comfort, distraction, or in character advice from your favs, I'm here for you. It's been helpful for me and I'd love to do that for you. Be as specific as you want <3
I'll take continuation requests for previous fics. (I am working on Two Faces pt 3 and aim to finish the Hound drabbles from the past, so if its for them don't you worry, just be patient please.)
Tropes
And there was one bed~
Love at first sight
Hate at first sight
Fake dating
Locked in together
Aphrodisiac
Amnesia
Sharing body heat
Kissing as a distaction
Dying confession
X denying their feelings for Y until Y shows interest in someone else.
X teaching Y something
Carrying bridal style
Confessing during fight
Romance/Fluff
âI think Iâm in love with you.â
âI didnât know love until you.â
âYouâd be easy to love.â
âYou are my equal in every way.â
âI will never stop fighting for you.â
âIf there was anyone meant for me, it was you.â
âYou say you love me, but you donât know me.â âThen let me.â
âThey donât compare to you. No one does/ever has.â
âDonât look at me like that.â âLike what?â âLike you love me.â
âI could make you feel better.â
âBeautiful.â
Angst:
âWe couldâve been us.â
âI donât want your apology.â
âIt would be easier if I didnât know you.â
âYou said you wouldnât leave and then you did.â
âI feel like Iâm falling apart.â
âAll Iâve ever wanted is for you to see me.â
âWhat is it about me that isnât good enough?â
âAt least I kept my promise.â
âDoes he/she/they not know about me?â
âYou look exactly the same.â
Funny&Misc
âYouâre family.â
âBite me.â
âWhat a pretty sight.â
âGet over it.â
âI thought you couldnât stand me.â âI lied.â
âYouâre bleeding.â âNo shit.â
âDo you believe in soulmates?â âNo.â
âI thought I was alone.â
âStop staring at me to distract me.â âOh, Iâm not trying to distract you.â
âI canât remember the last time I laughed like this.â
âAre my eyes deceiving me or is that a smile, my love?â âOh, shut up.â
âI donât think Iâve ever seen something go so wrong so fast.â
âDo you believe in soulmates?â âNo.â
âWhat kind of dumb question is that?â
âDonât even think about it.â
"it wouldnât hurt you to smile you know." âit will.â
âI can do it myself.â
âWhat a tease.â
âIâm hilarious.â âYouâre traumatized.â âIs there a difference?â
âAll this sneaking around is going to get us into trouble.â
LETS DOOO IT THANK Y'ALL
#the bad batch#tbb#star wars#bad batch#tbb tech#tech#the clone wars#prequels#tcw#sw tcw#star wars tcw#the clones wars#clone wars#clones#wrecker#echo#crosshair#nervous in the service as we speak
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