#denial isn't just a river in egypt you two
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Drew this during break time! Finished the game and you will not be able to able to rip these two from my cold dead hands. New ship-- Unlocked.
#zero escape#they're dating the creator told me#drawing lotus was fun she's very pretty and very tsun-tsun#seven's design is fun too but it really threw me outta my comfort zone#he's so hard to draaaawwww#hope i did him justice#anyway i ship them#denial isn't just a river in egypt you two#momento doodles 'n sketches
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The way she looks at Rae... And she claims not to have any feelings for her whatsoever. Are you sure Miss Claire? Are you sure? Denial isn't just a river in Egypt you know.
In all seriousness, this episode, I like to think is where Claire officially catches feelings for Rae. Like, this episode right here, with Rae helping her spare Lene and her brother. And then this moment...
Rae holding her, from behind, so Claire doesn't have to look Rae in the eyes while she cries. Rae, protecting Claire's dignity so nobody can see her cry after the events of the past two episodes. I think this is where Claire starts to realize yes maybe she does care for this idiot.
#rae x claire#rambles#rae taylor#claire francois#im in love with the villainess#i favor the villainess#watashi no oshi wa akuyaku reijou#character analysis#character development!
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The Gamemaker's Apprentice
Level 8
Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader
Overall Warnings:
NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, and other stuff that may be added
Masterlist
Level 8 Warnings:
Noncon elements, drugging, somnophilia, Snow being creepy af, experiments conducted on children (because it isn't Hunger Games without it lol), jealous Snow if you squint, violence
Replay Level 7
Ready? Level 8 Start:
You’re startled back to your senses when your communicuff beeps in your pocket. Not even halfway through the week and you’re already feeling the effects of not getting enough sleep since you began working for Coriolanus Snow. Even during the weekend before, when you were supposed to be resting, or going out for coffee or shopping, or whatever the hell it is that young adults such as yourself do during their spare time, you were hiding in your room, paralysed with worry for the direction your uncle’s project has gone to.
His name and yours, now part of the mindless slaughter of district children whose only crime was to be born poor in the wrong place.
You get nightmares almost every day now since you began working at the Citadel. Not that you can remember any of them; they slip from your grasp like smoke the moment your Uncle Cas wakes you. Every time he gently shakes you back to reality and tells you that you’ve been crying out for your parents again, all you see is his face, worn beyond his years of working, toiling, taking care of you, worrying about you, making sure you were happy. Knowing what you already know about where his life’s work is heading, kills you inside just thinking of telling him.
You play the voice message, thankful it isn’t from your tyrannical new boss who always seems to find new ways to hog your time all to himself. It’s embarrassing enough you got woken up by him to find his coat draped on you, with F3 arriving for his shift just in time to see him plant a kiss on your head. This morning, you had hardly placed your bag down on your desk when F1 made teasing remarks about you being in denial.
What’s the old saying? About denial not only being a river in Egypt? Did it also say anything about being willing to drown oneself in it to be put out of misery?
The message you play is from F2. She says there’s a shipment waiting at the gates for Acacius Innis, which they suspect are the drives your uncle supposedly ordered for his station, and you need to sign off on it as his replacement. Maybe he ordered them before discovering he was going to be promoted.
You take your barely coherent self to the entrance where a man in courier uniform flipping through receipts on a clipboard is waiting for you, a few medium-sized boxes stacked by his feet with the Innis Tech logo and a District 3 seal. He looks up from his clipboard and greets you with a smile as soon as you get near him. You know that greying hair and the lines at the corner of his eyes.
The bartender at Strabo’s party.
“Sign here, please,” he says as he hands you his clipboard and a pen.
He doesn’t seem to recognise you, but even in your sleep-deprived state, those features are unmistakable. He acknowledges your signature with a tip of his hat, a small ‘thank you,’ and walks away.
Maybe he works two jobs, you surmise. You think nothing of it any further as you head back to your work, while a couple of peacekeepers lug the boxes along. They take them to your office where you pore through their contents – as expected, they’re just empty drives, plus a single floppy disk with a blank label. You stow the disk in your drawer, thinking it must’ve been just a freebie or some playful inside joke between your uncle and his ex-wife.
It's almost nine by the time your final batch of unit testing is finished, and when Coriolanus Snow arrives in your office to check your progress, you give him the news he’d been waiting for:
“We’re ready for integration testing.”
The perversely delighted expression that grows on his face is something you’d never like to see in many other circumstances.
This night’s sleep proves elusive, just hours of tossing and turning, drifting in and out, only for you to fall asleep then wake up again with your uncle’s worry-plastered face, your lack of proper rest affecting the both of you. In the end, you don’t get any more shut-eye aside from the three or four hours you already had.
As you take your third cup of coffee at a quarter past eight in the morning on a Wednesday, that’s when you know you’re eventually going to crash. You just hope to anyone who bothers to listen that it doesn’t happen during your presentation to Volumnia Gaul.
Fifteen minutes later, you’re making your way to the designated testing room a few doors away from your office. The night shift crew from last night scrambled to finish the set-up according to the end-of-day report from F3, and since you’re early anyway, checking for last-minute adjustments can’t hurt.
You flick the lights on inside the room, gasping at the sight that greets you.
The space is humongous, with its high ceilings and carpeted floors. The room slopes towards a flat centre which has already been fitted with several computer sets, just like you instructed, arranged in the form of a pyramid, with the three in the middle set-up with multiple screens. The entire set faces a total of twenty-nine monitors built into the wall: twelve on either side, with four more below the largest one at the centre. To your left are three windows made of glass, covered from the inside with curtains you can’t see through. You find it peculiar that three more sets of computers are installed just before the windows, but you decide to ignore it, thinking it might just be something they couldn’t remove before this day. The thing is massive, after all.
You look around, your eyes landing on the glass observation deck where you assume Dr Gaul would stay. From that cushy little box, she would observe the entire experiment with her piercing, mismatched eyes, revelling in the future horrors your work will bring about.
The door to the testing room echoes as it opens, making you almost jump in place. You can’t tell whether it’s the nerves, or the caffeine, or the lack of sleep that’s making you more agitated than usual, but also maybe it’s because of the person who had just arrived, taking calculated steps towards you with his footsteps echoing despite the carpeted floors.
“Good morning, Nellie,” Coriolanus Snow greets you with a tilt of his head and a smile, and as warm as that greeting might look, it’s often hard to tell what lies behind that mask of his. Whatever it is isn’t good.
Still, you greet him back just as warmly as if the fact that he’d be evaluating your performance today isn’t bothering you at all. “Good morning, Coryo.”
Your mentor comes close inches before you, invading your space as always. He peers into your face with those striking blue eyes before worry etches into his. “Sugarplum, you have not been sleeping well,” he deduces correctly. “Are you okay?”
You wave off his concern with a shake of your head. “I’ll sleep better when the tests are over.”
“Tell me about it,” he says with a chuckle. He pauses for a while, his gaze never straying from your lips. You quell the need to move away from him. As an afterthought, he assures you, “You’ll do perfectly today; I know that much.”
You wish you had the same confidence he has in you as you have for yourself.
The twins arrive for a final inspection thirty minutes before your presentation to Dr. Gaul. You spend the rest of the remaining time inspecting the equipment with them, ensuring everything is in place. Every monitor mounted on the wall is turned on, and the computers begin powering up, prompting the screens to flash the Hunger Games screensaver. They check the computer facing the glass windows last, which as far as you remember, isn’t on the list of equipment you had asked them to prepare. You ask them why it needs a look over, but their response is vague.
“It’s the first agenda for after lunch’s presentation. Mr Innis supervised the testing for this before, so we’ll take care of the demo,” F2 says.
Volumnia Gaul arrives exactly at nine, escorted by two stoic peacekeepers in their grey-blue uniforms. Today, she wears her usual lab coat, pristine white morphing into scarlet, her gloves made of leather of the bloody shade. You join in when everyone in the room welcomes her.
“Mr Snow.” Her drawling voice greets your mentor. “You have been hard at work, you and your little apprentice,” she glances at you, drumming her gloved fingers together her smile widening in anticipation. “Now I gather you’ve a little show for me, Mr Snow. Let the theatre commence!”
At her cue, Coriolanus officially welcomes her to the integration test, while you initiate Begin Game on the main command console.
You step aside so you can show Dr Gaul the main command console’s user interface: everything from camera control, drone management software, motion tracking and the tribute odds system, the vital signs tracking software, and overall game environment controls software, each displayed on a single monitor hooked on main – everything you and your uncle spent blood, tears and sweat on, contained in a single computer station.
“...In other words,” you conclude, “The main command console is the brains of the entire operation. It oversees everything, even the consoles used by the gamemakers, the mentors, and the operators. This is what we use to begin the Game, and it’s programmed to automatically save game data when only one tribute remains, which it detects because of the vitals tracking device. Override requests go to this console, as well.”
Dr Gaul’s eyes are glowing, but you know that it isn’t because of the lights on the monitors. A despicable grin dances on her features as she chuckles lowly to herself.
“My, oh my, what a promising start, Ms Innis,” she says softly with delight, her eyes shifting only from screen to screen. “This is just magnificent.”
You move on to the console beside the main, the one you’ve programmed as the gamemaker console which F1 will demonstrate. She navigates the interface while you expound the functions: the ability to shift camera angles, alerts for donations made to a tribute on the tribute status screen, tribute status and odds percentages onscreen...
“...and most importantly, the game environment control. Basic commands such as the activating of traps and releasing of any mutts...availability, of course, depends on the environment.”
F1 chimes in, “If I may direct your attention to the test arena being flashed on the monitors, please.” He waves a hand to the camera angle showing the Citadel basement: nothing but grey walls and decommissioned equipment archived or otherwise abandoned.
“Putting that useless old space to use, I see,” Dr Gaul smirks.
“The team has installed several mini explosives in the space, which we can activate with a single click,” says F2.
“That, and an artificial weather control system – bring on the heat, or the cold, or the rain,” F1 adds proudly. F2 runs a command on the console, letting artificial rain down on a small section of the makeshift arena, which darkens the grey walls and initiates a spark in one of the abandoned equipment.
“Some of those might still be plugged into an electrical source, which could prove hazardous,” you comment, but F1 brushes off your concerned look.
“Oh yeah, we hooked it up to a separate source,” he just replies vaguely.
“Add acid rain.”
Everyone’s heads turn to Dr Gaul at her suggestion. Her smile just widens, revealing her white teeth, her eyes brimming with barely contained excitement. She drums her fingers together and elaborates, “Acid rain, acid rain; melt their skins, o what great pain!”
You turn away to feign browsing through the console’s tabs, while Coriolanus clears his throat and casually suggests adding burn medicine and burn relief ointments to the mentor inventory.
F1 and F2 merely nod, and you three move on to the mentor console.
“We decommissioned the bulkier communicuffs from the previous games to make way for this,” you gesture to the computer F2 navigates. A wave of nausea hits you, but you attempt to mask it by leaning into the back of a computer chair for support. “The mentors will be assigned one of each console, which they will use to send items and gifts and track their tribute’s odds.”
You go on further by establishing the best modification yet to the way the mentors send their items: mentors can now send multiple items at once, with a maximum weight of five kilograms.
“That way, we minimise drone damage and repair costs. Also, before the mentor hits send, they will get a preview of how their tribute’s odds will approximately change when they receive and use the items, thus helping drive mentors’ decision-making in looking out for their tributes and ensuring their win.”
Your boss’s boss tilts her head in curiosity. “I just love it when they get competitive – that drive, you could almost smell in the air, it just makes it all the more fun to watch.”
You nod once at F2, who clicks on a bottle of water and a slice of bread on the inventory and hits send, and all of you watch with bated breath as the drone circles the area and drops it gently on a flat surface, directly on top of an ancient analogue computer.
“We don’t have a tribute registered as an official player yet, but once we do, it will deliver the goods just like before, but with better accuracy rates owing to enhancements in the facial recognition software,” F2 explains.
Dr Gaul hums. “And what of the sponsor system?”
F1 takes care of the operator console demo, and your mentor chooses this moment to draw closer to your side, his face radiant with pride. I guess that means he likes your performance. His eyes then hone on your hand still clinging to the chair’s backrest, but before he can say something, you approach F1 and look over his shoulder as he explains how the last console works.
Pretty simple, actually: the operator receives a call for a sponsorship; they enter the sponsor’s bank account details, the amount or the item on the system and their designated benefactor, the system alerts the mentor who received the gift and gets an alert on their console, and an alert goes to the gamemakers’ and the main as well.
F2 adds helpfully that the operator console should be run by a representative from the Citadel’s finance department, to which Gaul agrees.
You surmise it’s the same entity running the betting system where the Games rakes the most money.
To finish the demo, you mention the existence of backup computers on standby in the event of a hardware malfunction. While it’s unlikely as all the equipment is brand-new, it’s something your uncle would do: to be one step ahead of everything.
Something you wish you would’ve done before ever engaging with Coriolanus Snow.
The first part of the integration tests finishes with you and your team opening the panel for questions, which you all answer with practised ease. When she seems satisfied with everything, she announces lunch on her, and within minutes, you’re being driven by a large van to The White Knight, where you’re all waited on graciously by the restaurant staff. Everyone takes their seat at a rounded table, with you beside Coriolanus, who has taken you here for dinner a few times since last week.
And all of those times, you made sure to order the angel food cake.
Today, however, you can’t bring yourself to eat that much, so you skip the cake, thinking it doesn’t deserve a half-assed digging-in, and opt for an affogato instead. That counts as dessert, right? Still, the ever-observant Coriolanus squeezes your thigh gently under the table, making you peer into his face, subtly questioning you. You just flash him a smile and concentrate on your dessert. You could slap that hand off too, but then he takes it off slowly, dragging your skirt up a little in the process.
You lose whatever remaining appetite you have, but you push through. Only half a day left, and you can maybe just hand in your resignation tomorrow and forget about this whole thing. And then maybe live in the woods, after.
Everyone is taken back to the Citadel at twelve-thirty, and Dr Gaul gives the go-ahead for the second part of the integration test at one.
Nursing an incoming headache courtesy of the espresso from lunch, you miserably accompany F1 and F2 to prepare for their demo on the computers right before the glass windows. Dr Gaul makes her entrance on time, so you stand back and watch with Coriolanus as the siblings take the reigns on the stations they set up before the windows.
F1 runs a command on his computer, which turns the lights on behind the curtains before they’re drawn to the side, and what you thought were initially windows reveal a shocking sight – something else you hadn’t been expecting to see.
Behind each glass pane, separated by thick walls, are three captives, one male and two females, all of them looking not much older than in their late teens. They seem to have been awakened by the sudden blaring of lights inside their enclosure and are stirring awake from their cots. They look a little thin and pale, but there is not an ounce of confusion in their expressions, as if they had been there for a while and are used to being woken up like so. The brown-haired male mouths something that you read on his lips as ‘hello.’
You could feel your own eyes widen at the sight of them, your mouth opening on its own accord to let out a protest, but your throat dries up as a cold, firm hand closes on yours. Coriolanus Snow’s cold cerulean orbs, pinning you to place, spell a single, well-understood warning:
‘Don’t.’
F2’s voice floats in the space as she introduces the second stage of the integration test.
“What you’re currently seeing is one of our many additions to the game interface: we’ve inserted a microchip into the test subjects you see in the windows which transmits real-time data to our system: heart rate, pulse, blood pressure, and other vital signs, plus levels of cortisol, serotonin...”
F2 drones on with her explanation of how the microchip works, just as you watch while the three teens are served food through a small slot at the far end of their cells.
“We will spend the next three hours observing how the chip works and how it transmits data that could influence audience betting, sponsorship, and decision-making. Mr Innis designed a learning algorithm that makes use of motion-tracking software to study the tributes’ every move in real-time, which contributes largely to the accuracy of the odds on our screen. We hope to gather their responses to a number of stimuli we’ll be exposing them to within the said time to demonstrate the software’s capabilities.”
When they begin eating, F1 begins explaining to Dr Gaul, who approaches the computer screens to look at the data, how the system measures hormones related to food intake, among others.
You could feel your head start to throb and can’t help wincing at the pain. Coriolanus’s hand is still on yours, he feigns looking over at the computers then meets your eyes, shooting you a questioning look.
Are you okay?
You blink once, indicating you’re fine and break the eye contact just as he releases his grip on you. He doesn’t really care, you know that much; his only concern is the success of this presentation, and you’re not about to fuck it up for him. Instead, you peer curiously at the food they served the three teens, noting how little they’re given: a slice of stale, brown bread, a small bowl of soup, and a single bottle of water.
The male, however, finishes his meal rather quickly and raps on the glass impatiently, mouthing something you can’t quite make out.
“Their enclosure is soundproof, even their walls so they can’t hear each other; they can’t see through the glass, either. In each cell, however, we placed a screen on a corner of each wall, where they could see and hear us individually when we address them through the intercom,” F1 says. That’s when you notice that each computer station is equipped with a small, built-in camera on top of the monitor.
F2 nods and elaborates, “We figured they’d be more likely to cooperate if they see a face guiding them through the experiments.”
You take the remaining computer station beside F2, activate the teenage male’s intercom and place him on speakers.
“...Hey, hey, I can see you!” He shouts at the screen, waving frantically. “Can you hear me? Been talkin’ for a while now, did anybody get that?”
“No, I’m sorry...” you say through the microphone. You scan through his uploaded background information on the computer. “Callahan, you’ll have to say that again, please.”
“Whoa,” Callahan stares in wonder at the intercom screen in his room. “Uh, I was just askin’ when ya’ll’re gon’ let me out, but...it’s nice to hear from anyone, really. Been cooped up here a long time.”
You inhale sharply as you turn off your mic. This is going to be a long three hours. “Honestly, I don’t know,” you confess to him on the mic. According to all the files on the test subjects, they're promised a sum of money and a year’s worth of grains once they’re sent home. In seventeen-year-old Callahan Brody’s case, home is District 3.
Where the Innises began building their empire.
“Our timetable is based on the success of the experiments you’re recruited for,” you add.
He bats his eyelashes at the monitor, his eyes innocently bulging in awe. It’s odd to see him ogle at the piece of tech, knowing he’s seen much more impressive stuff in his line of work if his file is to be believed. “Hey, as long as...I’m not talkin’ to meself all the damn time.”
Coriolanus approaches your side, placing his hand on the back of your chair.
“Whoa, you’re really pretty.” Callahan chuckles bashfully at the screen. “I wouldn’t mind gettin’ stuck here for days if it means I get to see you.”
He was staring at you and not the tech, you belatedly realise. Your glance automatically goes up to your mentor, whose hardened eyes betray his displeasure at the interaction, no matter how blank he keeps his expression.
“Flattery won’t get you out of this sooner,” you say.
F1 casually mentions an increase in oxytocin and testosterone levels detected by the software on Callahan’s profile tab.
You could feel Coriolanus’s ire radiating off him in waves.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Callahan asks through the intercom.
You give him a false name for the experiment’s sake. This a scientific pursuit, you remind yourself. You and the siblings take turns getting him to talk about himself, so the software can continue logging his vitals in the process.
He tells you that his favourite food is roasted chicken and gravy, but that he only gets to eat it on special occasions. During his spare time, he likes taking apart the family radio and the old television that he inherited from his grandfather, and he had two siblings who’d help him put them back before their father got home. He says he used to work for one of your family’s factories before he came here, confirming the data logged on his file. He talks about the assembly line he was a part of before A.I.-powered machinery replaced him, rendering his job, and him, obsolete. He says he was just one of the hundreds laid off and replaced by robots.
Does your uncle know about this?
“I used to be a computer technician,” he continues. Really? That isn’t on his file, you note. “But then I lost my drive.”
You had to put your hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh brought about by that unexpected joke.
“Nerd.” F2 pokes your arm teasingly as she laughs along.
F1 verbalises a spike in endorphins in between soft bouts of laughter. “Sorry,” he tells Dr. Gaul, whose eyebrow is raised in mild amusement. “We’re a sucker for puns.”
“Of all the people they could get from the districts, they settle for another nerd,” F2 says under her breath.
Callahan seems to be delighted to entertain. “Hey, I got ‘nuther one: why do programmers hate going outside?”
F1 quips excitedly. “Ooh, I know that!”
“Because outside’s full of bugs.”
F1 and F2 both crack up, with F2 suggesting ‘we should keep him.’
You decide to play along with Callahan if only to get a rise out of your mentor, the only one who isn’t finding anything amusing out of the exchange.
“What’s a computer’s favourite snack?” you ask him on the intercom.
“What?” He and your computer engineers ask in unison.
With suppressed smile you say, “Chips.”
The laugh you get out of your subject from District 3 records the spike, while Coriolanus rolls his eyes in exasperation. He suggests moving on to the other test subjects, and the three of you oblige, repeating the same experiment.
The girl beside Callahan’s cell is significantly more reserved, and it takes a while for the three of you to elicit a response from her. Tansey Page, barely fourteen with her curly red hair and wide, almost scared eyes, is from District 11. Based on her file, she’s been living with an aunt, her only living relative, since her parents perished in the war. Her aunt had been unable to work due to a bad fall from a nectarine tree from which she never recuperated, and Tansey had to earn a living for both of them at the age of nine. As your software does its job logging spikes to her vitals, you can’t help but think about how dire her situation was that she had to enlist for this test and leave behind an aunt who barely seems to have the capacity to take care of herself.
Once Tansey opens up, you discover she’s a soft-spoken, sweet girl who loves jellied blackberries. She says she loves to read, but since they couldn’t afford books, she would often copy stories by hand on paper from borrowed books. Hearing her recount this pains you, but you follow the siblings’ example and not let it affect you. Besides, there isn’t anything you can do for her at this point but succeed in the tests so they can all go back home to their families in the districts with the payment they’re promised.
The third and last subject, Audrey Mills, blond and pale with shifting reddish eyes, is the most difficult to work with out of the three. She barely looks at the screen in her cell, just huddled on her bed with her knees to her chest, only tensing slightly when she hears anyone of you three ask her a question through her intercom. The uploaded file tells more about her than she does: she’s from District 7, aged sixteen, abandoned by rebel parents who are presumed dead, and raised by her grandmother who recently passed away. She was targeted by a trafficker nicknamed ‘The Wolf,’ probably due to her unique features, but she fought him off and murdered him by bashing him on the head repeatedly with a blunt axe. It took four peacekeepers to haul her away from the body, and unlike the other two teens, she didn’t willingly sign up for the tests and was sent here with only the promise of being pardoned for her crime.
In the end, F1 gives up with an annoyed sigh, and having only an hour left for the tests, he decides to move on to another pursuit.
“This last portion of the test will showcase the software’s ability to record vital signs in the event of negative stimuli. The subjects will be injected with a slow-acting compound laced with a hallucinogenic that targets the amygdala, or the fear centre of the brain, and mimics anything the test subjects may define as hostile. We hope to gauge the effectivity of our software by recording any physiological and hormonal changes on each subject as they would in a natural, stressful environment.”
F1 fishes out a walkie-talkie from his lab coat and through it, he says, “Begin with Test Subject 3.”
Even before you can open your mouth to object to the experiment, two peacekeepers enter Audrey’s cell from a concealed door behind her bed, followed by a female nurse carrying a large syringe. Audrey puts up a fight and tries to evade what to her would be an unknown chemical being forced upon her, but her weakened state proves no match to the peacekeepers who pin her arms and legs to the floor, while the nurse injects her with the compound. She just lies on her belly, presumably screaming, and they eventually leave her alone in her cell, having done their job. She gets to her feet and back to cowering on her bed, visibly shaken by the way she was manhandled.
These are the kind of tests Uncle Cas had to endure conducting under his supervision.
F1 commands through his walkie-talkie for Test Subject 2 to be injected with the same compound.
You and F2 exchange looks. She explains, trying to keep her voice straight, “We’re dosing them at the same time because it takes about fifteen to thirty minutes for the drug to take effect,” she glances sideways at her brother and asks, “Aren’t we going to give the dose to Test Subject 1?”
F1 considers the question, but replies, “No, we leave him as control. Besides, he’s the only one that didn’t piss me off today.”
You watch numbly as the peacekeepers and the nurse from a while ago enter Tansey’s cell. Compared to Audrey, Tansey keeps perfectly still, her eyes fearful and wary and darting from between the peacekeepers’ guns to the syringe needle. She exposes her arm mutely to the nurse, who promptly sticks the syringe into her before stepping out of the enclosure and taking the peacekeepers with her. The wait begins – a long, depraved contest of who gets affected first between Test Subjects 2 and 3.
Tansey’s breathing rate begins to increase at the fifteen-minute mark. She slowly rises from her perch on the cot while she stares with wide eyes at something in the air. Her heart rate increases, according to the system, along with rising levels of adrenocorticotropin.
“Cortisol levels are also rising,” F2 observes aloud. “Test Subject 2 exhibiting signs of stress.”
“What are you seeing, Tansey?” you ask the teen.
But all you get from her is panicked screaming, so you put her to mute at once, helplessly watching as she flails her arms and runs around in her cell in an effort to swat away whatever she’s seeing, which seems to be attacking her from the air in all directions.
“I think she’s seeing tracker jackers...” you whisper to no one in particular. “Which makes sense, given her work environment...”
You’re about to ask if they also developed an antidote for this compound, but a dull thud on the glass startles you – Audrey just banged on the glass with her palms, her vitals are a disarray, and her blonde hair is matted with sweat. She keeps glancing behind her and screaming and hitting the window with her balled fists, almost like she’s begging to be let out.
F2 urgently asks through the intercom, “Audrey, I need you to describe what you’re seeing.”
For the first time today, Audrey opens her mouth to speak, her voice hoarse and filled with despair. “The Wolf.”
“She’s hallucinating her attacker,” F2 says as she turns her mic off.
“That means the drug is working, and the software seems to have an accurate read on all physiological and hormonal spikes. Control subject is fine and his vitals are stable,” F1 notes in a matter-of-fact tone. “Everything in their cells, by the way, is being captured by our motion tracker and being fed to the algorithm in real time.”
But, what for, when you’ve already covered that portion in the first part of the integration tests?
You spend the last fifteen minutes of the tests completely dumbstruck, petrified and wishing everything to be over so you can put this horrible job behind you and move on with your life. You keep stealing glances at Coriolanus, but his face is as stony as ever, and Dr Gaul just seems to be having the time of her life watching the test subjects run about in their cells letting out screams only they can hear, tormented by horrors only they can perceive.
By the time F1 declares the tests a success, you’re barely paying attention to his words – you just stare at the computer monitor, waiting for the save progress to reach a hundred percent before you can shut it down. Coriolanus places a hand on your shoulder, which you take as your cue to stand while your department head gives her verdict.
The Head Gamemaker dons a pleased smile as she delivers her final feedback. She seems absolutely thrilled with the tests so far and commends everyone hard at work on seeing the program to completion.
Dr Gaul clasps her hands together as she asks, “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I heard your team mention a trial Hunger Games using the test subjects?”
It can’t be, it just might be your physically and emotionally exhausted state mishearing her. You just blink, careful to pay more attention.
F2 gives an affirmative nod as she adjusts her glasses. “It’s called grey-box testing. The idea is to pool in end-users, ideally those who have partial knowledge of the internal structure, to help us test the software. We have F3, whom we’ve already asked prior to this, and Mr Snow has also volunteered himself and his apprentice, Ms Innis, to participate as test mentors.”
Dr Gaul nods her head in approval. “Indeed. I am glad that your team understands the exigency of this project, Mr Snow. The Twelfth Hunger Games is upon us, and I’d like to see this thing of beauty put to great use.”
Your world is in a tailspin. Your grip on the back of your computer chair is the only thing that keeps you from falling. Your hands are shaking even as you pretend you only had to grab the bottle of water on the station behind you to dissuade your mentor’s worried looks.
So, this is what they were recording them for, you conclude. To top it off, your boss has enlisted you as a test mentor, which means you will be responsible for the death of one or more of the teenagers you had just observed minutes ago being needlessly tortured so more could take their place this July.
Unable to control your lightheadedness any longer, you fall sideways with nothing to break your descent but the chair you had been sitting on.
A pair of strong arms is on you at once, gathering you and carrying you bridal style, ignoring your weakened protests. Everything is a blur, and you get dizzier in its hold, but you fight to stay conscious no matter how fleeting. The world only steadies when you’re set down on what feels like soft leather.
You wince at the bright light that floods your eyes. There’s a muffled voice you can make out that seems to be calling your name. When your vision and hearing clear, you finally make out the source of that blinding light: a penlight held by Dr Gaul herself, which she turns off; that voice belonging to none other than Coriolanus Snow whose hands are clasping one of yours.
“There she is, your little pet. Poor thing is fatigued, by the looks of her,” Dr Gaul chuckles lightly and raises an eyebrow at him. “You ought to keep your hands away from her every so often.”
Coriolanus merely exhales in relief, but his jaw remains tense. “She is merely preoccupied with the program, Dr. Gaul. She hasn’t been sleeping very well for the past weeks.”
The woman simply clicks her tongue in impatience. The sound of peeling latex gloves breaks the quiet in the room momentarily, followed by the opening of a sliding door shelf, the clinking of glass bottles and the closing of said shelf. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the doctor hand your mentor something you can’t see.
Gingerly, you sit up on the infirmary bed, and Coriolanus helps steady you by placing his hands on your shoulders.
Dr Gaul’s voice echoes in the room. “I’d like you to be in tip-top shape, Ms Innis, so I will give you the day off tomorrow. I will delay the trial, but only for a day more. Take her home, Mr Snow. Get some rest, both of you. Come this Friday, we’ll continue.”
She turns on her heels and walks away. Coriolanus’s sharp eyes follow his mentor’s retreating form until she disappears from the room. He then turns to you, his concerned blue orbs raking your form.
He cups your cheeks as he whispers, “You gave me quite the scare, my sugarplum.” He kisses you on the forehead, then asks, “Tell me what you’re feeling. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Other than my head pounding? I’m fine, I guess. I just need some sleep,” your hushed tone says. And other than your tights sustaining a rip on the right thigh from your fall on the computer chair, everything else on you seems to be intact, so you try to stand. The floor seems to move the moment you get to your feet, and Coriolanus catches you before another stumble.
“You’re coming with me to my place,” he says firmly.
You begin protesting, “Coryo, I can just go home –”
You’re interrupted by your own yelp of surprise – to your mortification, he carries you in his arms just as he did when he brought you to the infirmary.
He raises a chastising eyebrow at you. “I’m having none of your complaints. You’re in no state to walk, or to go to your home – it’s too far. My apartment is closer.”
You can’t find the words to argue this logic, so you burrow your face further into his coat in embarrassment. He carries you to his car and instructs his driver to head to his home. You count a few blocks before you arrive at the entrance to this new luxury apartment building. You remember this building from a flyer; despite its ridiculous markup, it targeted uni students, promising luxury features that somewhat rival that of The Corso’s.
It takes a while for you to assure him that you can walk fine on your own, but he relents in the end with a purse of his lips. You could tell he’s displeased by your refusal to be carried like a damsel in distress, but he settles for putting his arm around your shoulders as he walks you across the building’s fine lobby and to the elevator. It’s his private elevator, he says – a perk of owning the largest penthouse spanning the entire top floor. That and exclusive access to the rooftop, he adds.
All this extravagance bought and paid for by the family of a man he presumably betrayed, you bitterly think.
This begs the question: how much longer you can overlook the possibility that he had Sejanus executed?
You silence that snide voice in your head, only because it just served to amplify your pain.
He’s greeted by a maid right in his foyer, who takes both your coats, before he instructs her curtly to make some tea. With his hand on your lower back, he leads you to his spacious living room with windows overlooking the Capitol bathed in the orange gleam of the setting sun, and you can’t help but look around you in amazement at the sheer elegance of his unit. You could see why it would appeal to students; it certainly favoured contemporary interior decor compared to that of The Corso’s art deco leanings. He ushers you into the velvet crimson loveseat in a corner near a window adorned with silky throw pillows.
“Take your shoes off and lie down if you want,” he suggests. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
You lean against the backrest with a sigh of relief. Finally, a friendlier surface than the computer chair you’d been lounging around in all day. You’re almost tempted to do as he instructed and make yourself comfortable, if it isn’t for the fact that you’re technically in enemy territory, and you’re a war prisoner being lured with the promise of freedom in exchange for betraying your side.
Instead, you make do with hugging one of the pillows, cursing yourself for landing in this situation – after all, it’s partly your fault that you’re here instead of home where you’re sure you're safe, and most importantly, away from Coriolanus Snow’s clutches.
Coriolanus is back within minutes, taking a seat beside you. He’s taken off his waistcoat and unbuttoned his white shirt halfway through, you observe. He rolls up his sleeves as the maid enters with a steaming teapot, cream, and sugar bowls on a tray along with two sets of teacups. She sets them all down on the coffee table in the middle. He instructs her to bring out the cake from the fridge as she exits.
He pours you a cup of tea, the inviting aroma of a rooibos and valerian root blend drifting in the living room air before he adds just the right amount of milk and sugar as you would make it yourself.
“Drink this, sugarplum. It’ll help, trust me,” he says as he pushes the teacup towards you. He pours some himself, only adding two cubes of sugar and a lemon wedge squeeze, as is his occasional preference. You watch him take a sip before you do.
And of course, your cup tastes perfect. It’s almost scary how he knows the littlest of details, including how you take your tea, of all things.
The maid arrives with what looks like a matcha-flavoured angel food cake from The White Knight before he instructs her to go home early for the night.
You try not to be nervous at being left alone with him in his apartment and focus on the tea.
Coriolanus takes the liberty of slicing you a piece of the cake and placing it on the empty plate the maid had brought in. He urges you to eat.
“I noticed you didn’t order that angel food cake you seem to be partial to when we had lunch. I thought you might like to have a bite after such a successful day.”
The smile he gives you is full of pride, while you feel nothing but shame at the abomination you had just willingly participated in. Still, you take a few bites of the cake to placate him. You’re in his turf where his rule is absolute, and heaven forbid any missteps on your part that would warrant any sanctions.
He watches you quietly for a short while over sips of tea while you contemplate the best exit strategy. Even with your slice of cake gone and your cup of tea empty, you come up with nil excuses. Surprisingly, the food helped a bit with the nausea, and you could feel your limbs starting to relax further into the couch. You can’t even fight your yawn, only stifling it with your hands, as you sink into the pile of throw pillows.
Okay, maybe just a little nap…surely, he wouldn’t mind.
The last thing you see as you drift off to blackness is Coriolanus and his lopsided grin, his slender fingers brushing off the hair framing your face.
According to Coriolanus’s watch, it took about thirty minutes for the sleeping draught he put in the milk bowl to take effect, but he allows ten more minutes to make sure you’re deep in your sleep and won’t be waking in at least a few hours. He still had some of the draught in his medicine cabinet as he’d used in the past, making sure not to touch the other bottle he’s supposed to give you courtesy of Dr Gaul.
He spends the rest of the ten minutes just admiring your face, finally deep in your own little world, blissfully unaware of your reality. For the first time in a long while, he’s completely alone with you, so allows himself this little treat of brushing your cheeks and stroking your hair. He wonders what you dream of. He wishes it was filled with the things you love. He wishes he was in it somewhere.
He eventually decides that this loveseat is no place for his sweet, little sugarplum to spend the night in.
He carefully removes your shoes and places them neatly by the foot of the couch. He carries you with ease like a prince claiming his princess bride before walking off to the sunset. He is gentle when he sets you down on his bed. He doesn't need to close his door; it’s just you and him on the entire floor, after all. He straddles your hips as he climbs on top of your sleeping figure. His eyes greedily take you in: your hair spread out on his pillow, your lips slightly parted, the curve of your neck beating your pulse...it’s what he’s dreamed of for so long; you sprawled underneath him ready for his taking...
He finally just lets his intrusive thoughts take over and licks that enticing pulse point of yours.
The moment his tongue latches on your skin, Coriolanus knows he wants more. He hurriedly unbuttons your blouse and gently peels it off your torso, exposing the swell of your breasts, modestly covered in a cream-coloured bra. Watching your exposed bosom rising and falling in steady breathing has his blood rushing from his head to his groin.
And then you had to let out a tiny, adorable whine from the back of your throat.
Coriolanus groans in frustration as he wipes a bead of sweat off his temple. The rational part of him tells him to stop, put your shirt back on and keep away from your sleeping figure because he’s aware your first time with him shouldn’t be while you’re asleep and unable to respond to his touches. He knows you’re a virgin and he’d prefer that you remember your first experience with him, and that taking you on the night of your wedding means you’d have no reason to refuse him as your husband.
But there’s this other side of him – primal, impatient, irrational, and ravenous, that part of him he normally conceals from you, most especially – that’s threatening to surface. The part of him that knows he’s been so good to you, and he’s waited long enough for even just a taste of how right at home you’d make him feel when his rock-hard cock is burrowed deep inside you...
As his gaze dips further down the skirt you’re wearing, now slightly hiked up and revealing your stocking-wrapped thighs, a thought successfully marries his rational and irrational side: he doesn’t have to fuck you tonight – he can still save you for your wedding night and still get to taste you and satisfy that painfully growing erection of his.
He seals your lips with a searing kiss, which eventually dips to the valley between your breasts, which he then squeezes through your bra. He fights the entire time not to suck on your skin and leave bruises, figuring you’d easily see if he did. He kisses and licks and massages every part of your body he can reach, while his hand travels underneath your skirt. He gathers the material to your waist, revealing your lower half and peels off that pesky pantyhose, careful not to aggravate that little tear.
And once again, Coriolanus pulls away to admire the sight of you, on his bed, in your underwear, his breathing turning shallow in anticipation.
Just a taste, he assures himself, as he removes your panties, leaving your cunt bare to him and sending more blood to his already-engorged cock. He hastens in taking your legs apart and hooking them under his arms, and from there, he begins his worship.
The kiss he plants on your inner thigh slowly travels downwards, and he allows himself to suckle on your soft skin while still avoiding any visible welts. He does the same with your other thigh, but this time, he suckles and bites down on a tender spot near that hole in your stocking, and he only stops when an angry little red blotch begins to bloom on the flesh. He kisses it one more time for good measure, just before he dives in to feast on his main course.
Coriolanus moans indecently when his tongue begins to part your folds. He chuckles to himself when he feels you jerk a little in his hold – his sweet, delicious sugarplum, so sensitive to his touch...
What was that thing they used to say as children? I licked it, so it’s mine.
He runs this tongue over his lips before continuing his quest of lapping at your cunt, making sure he takes everything you offer him. He sucks on your clit as he listens to your breathy little whines, your body tensing in your sleep as he drinks and licks your juices – you taste just like honey on his tongue – he’s parched like he’s been that way since he can remember, and your cunt is the only thing that could quench that life-long thirst, and he doesn’t stop drinking you in until your entire body is tensing up and your thighs are quivering in his arms. He pulls away in time to watch your pretty face, frozen in pure bliss, your mouth parted as you let out those airy little moans and whines.
Did he just give his little sugarplum her first-ever orgasm in her sleep?
Your limbs relax eventually as he releases your thighs. Still drunk on the taste of you in his mouth, he quickly takes his shirt off and wastes no time unzipping his pants. He can only ignore his raging erection for so long, after all.
Like he’s done countless times, he takes his cock in his fist and begins pumping himself as he watches you – as per usual, he indulges himself in fantasies about you, moaning and screaming his name, writhing underneath him in pleasure and making a mess of his bedsheets, except your face in his mind is clearer than ever before, now that he’s seen the expressions and the sounds you’d make as he makes you come around his cock again and again. He imagines himself taking you over and over even as you stay limp underneath him, too fucked out to moan anything coherently.
It doesn’t take Coriolanus long to reach his peak. With a loud, guttural groan, he finishes on your stomach, making sure he doesn’t spill anywhere else even amidst the waves of pleasure engulfing him. He brings his forehead close to yours as he steadies his breathing and lets his high fade. Once he’s regained his composure, he pulls away from you, zips his pants back up and gets off you completely, opting to sit beside you as he leans against the headboard to collect his thoughts.
He knows he couldn’t leave you in your half-dressed state for long lest you catch a cold, so he begins to erase any evidence of the little bit of fun he had with you. Shame, really, when you look so inviting covered in his spend.
He starts by gently wiping his cum off your stomach with a damp towel, ensuring that he leaves no trace of himself on you. He finds wiping you clean easy and satisfying, vaguely wondering what it would be like to have the two of you soaking in a bathtub together and doing the same for him. The next task, getting you back in your stockings, isn’t as easy as the previous, given that he has to arrange the run on the cloth back where he remembers it to be. Miraculously, he too, gets that task out of the way, and putting your shirt back on proves way less challenging. By the time he’s done, the only sign he’d been on you is the little love bite he left, now purplish-black, conveniently camouflaged by that little tear on your stocking you’d be quick to dismiss it as a byproduct of your fall.
For now, that little beast in him has been sated and has retreated to the far corners of his psyche. He kisses your crown as he tucks you in the covers, but notices how troubled your expression looks.
Are you having a bad dream, he wonders?
You stir in your sleep as you turn away from his side of the bed, muttering a word he couldn’t catch. He climbs back in beside you, leaning against the pillows, his eyes landing on the vial of smelling salts on his nightstand. If this worsens, maybe he could use that to tear you away from the dream that’s bothering you.
Then he hears sniffling.
You curl up in a ball beneath the sheets as the sniffling grows more audible. He peers further into your face, finding fresh trails of tears on your temples.
Coriolanus almost internally panics.
Did he do this to you? Had he somehow given you a dream you’re now struggling with because of what he did? He rubs his face as he thinks of the possibilities.
Maybe you’re dreaming of Sejanus. Perhaps in this dream, he’s breaking your heart, or he’s hurting you, maybe even cheated on you and you had caught him in the middle of messing around with another girl.
Things Coriolanus would never, ever do to you.
He finds comfort in the thought somehow, and he can at least hope this dream version of himself would come in and punch the daylights out of dream-Sejanus for making you cry.
“Mommy…”
It’s faint, but he hears it.
“Mommy, wake up, please…We have to find daddy..."
Ah, you’re dreaming of that day.
Coriolanus recalls the day Sejanus approached him with good intentions (like always, he couldn’t help his nature) and began talking to him about you. It was one of his many deluded attempts at igniting friendship with him. He didn’t really care back then whatever he had to say, much less about you, but then he had to reveal how your parents died.
Such needless deaths brought about the vindictiveness of rebels who were bitter about your parents choosing the correct side.
And Coriolanus knew, better than anyone, and certainly better than Sejanus, what it was like to lose a parent the way you did.
For a moment there, he sees his younger self in you, calling out for his dead mother in the middle of the night and waking up realising she’ll never come back.
His heart wrenches at your pain, so he gathers you in his lap as you sob in your slumber. He’d never thought he’d see you this vulnerable around him, so it gives him an odd sense of ease knowing he’d seen a side of you you’d normally hide from him, and making you feel safe in his arms like this is something a dutiful husband would definitely do.
He almost ignores the phone ringing in his living room in favour of keeping you in his embrace.
Except the call drops and the phone rings insistently three more times, making him gently peel you off his lap and wanting to yank it off the plug.
Instead, he picks it up. What compelled him to do so, he doesn’t know, and he can’t pinpoint whether it was a good or a bad decision.
“Coriolanus. This is Acacius Innis.”
Fuck. Just when he’s finally got you to himself.
Acacius Innis inquires more persistently on the other line. “Is my niece with you?”
“Yes, Mr Innis. She –”
“Why?”
Coriolanus does not appreciate Innis senior’s tone, nor the way he just cut him off. “She almost passed out at work this afternoon, sir,” he says. “My place was the closest I could bring her to.”
A pause on the other line. “I’m coming over,” says Mr Innis.
“I can bring her over instead, sir –”
“No, I’m picking her up,” Innis says, as sounds of scuffling are heard in his background. “I know where you live. And, young man, if you so much as try anything funny with my niece, if you dare lay a finger –”
“I have no such intentions, Mr Innis,” Coriolanus replies with just as much conviction.
My tongue did all the work. He licks his lips, extremely pleased he could still taste you on them. “Nellie is safe with me; you have my word.”
“Good to know. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Coriolanus hears the click of the receiver, followed by the dial tone.
The meddling prick.
A sharp sensation in your nose stirs you awake, followed by fingers softly stroking your hair to help you come out of it.
“Sugarplum, I’m sorry to have woken you up, but you were crying in your sleep.”
The compassionate voice of none other than Coriolanus Snow makes you rise at once and assess where exactly you have ended up.
You remember falling asleep on his couch, and yet, here you are, on a bed with his shirtless self, and a just few seconds ago draped all over his lap, apparently crying in your sleep again.
"What was I saying?” you ask as you wipe your tears with your palms.
“You were calling for your parents,” he explains. “I assume you were dreaming about the day they died.”
Damn this day. You just had to fall asleep in his presence. It’s a stupid move, you berate yourself. You extricate yourself at once from what obviously looks like his bed. Coriolanus's eyes follows you with a doleful look. “I had no idea you still had nightmares about them.”
He too, gets to his feet, picking his shirt up from the sheets and putting it back on. What the fuck even was it doing off? He approaches you with eyes cold enough to freeze your blood. “And we know gave us this pain, Nellie. We’ll make them pay for it. Every single one of them.”
You’re relieved when he finally leads you away from his bedroom and back to the living room where your shoes are. You sit on the loveseat so you can put them on, but he’s on his knees at once, assisting you with your shoestraps.
“Your uncle knows you’re here,” he says as he ties your laces. “I told him you had a long day and you were resting. He’s on his way to pick you up. He also mentioned a subtle, tasteful threat of bodily harm if I ‘tried anything funny.’”
He looks up at you, smiling as he brushes his knuckles on your cheek.
“Like I’d ever harm my little sugarplum.”
The two of you retrieve your coat in the foyer, and you quietly thank him for letting you stay at his home. Instead of responding, he just fixes your hair and wipes your cheeks with his thumb, which later brushes over your lips.
Please, don’t let him kiss me…
“Coryo? Please…” you whisper shakily.
But then he releases you, donning a satisfied look. “There, all better.” When you look at him with questioning eyes, he adds, “I don’t think your uncle will ever forgive me if he thinks I made you cry.”
“Th-thanks.”
“You can thank me by getting better,” he says lightly. He leads you to the elevator with his hand on your back. “You have the entire day off tomorrow, so get all the rest you need. In fact, I have something that may help you get better sleep.”
He fishes this small, crimson vial from his pants pocket and places it in your hands. The cork stopper on the bottle is still sealed with wax.
“That should help. Take a teaspoon before you go to bed. It’s a non-addictive formula they developed at the Citadel. Tell me if it works for you so I can get you more.”
You nod and mutter your thanks. “Coryo, can I ask you something?
“Of course, sugarplum.”
“When do you think I can start working for my uncle again? Now that I’ve already finished fixing the code?”
His eyes darken at your question, but he blinks and it’s gone, replaced by simple curiosity.
“Why, sugarplum? Are you that eager to wriggle free from me?” he jests.
“No,” you deny, no matter how much his observation rings true. “It’s just that he’s been looking unwell lately, and he won’t tell me anything. He’ll never tell me if he’s sick or what, and I worry about him.”
What you said is partly true, but you also just want to be done with everything that has to do with him. If you don’t work for him anymore, you won’t ever have to interact with him ever again and be part of whatever he’s building. He’s not your friend, no matter how much he tries to make it look like so. He’s dangerous, you know that, and the faster you can keep him at arm’s length, the better.
“I’m sorry to hear that, sugarplum. I know the past week has been stressful for you. For both of you. But you don’t want to leave the program now, do you? Not when we’re so close to accomplishing what your uncle had started. And if you really want to help your uncle, finish his work, and help build his legacy.”
So, it seems you’re stuck with him, and you’ll still be participating in the trial Hunger Games this Friday.
The air is knocked out of your lungs as you’re pinned against the cold, steel walls of the elevator, and the gasp you let out is silenced by Coriolanus’s mouth latching onto yours.
Having caught you off-guard, you attempt to push him off, but he’s always been leagues above you in physical strength. As his tongue finds yours, you simply close your eyes and let him.
However, just as soon as it happens, he releases you, just in time for the elevator door to reveal the lobby with a ding.
“How about I recommend people I know who’d be perfect as his apprentice?” he suggests as if nothing happened. “After all, I have a track record for finding the perfect one. I’ll have it sent to his desk next week.”
You’re exhausted beyond words, not having the will to snap, so you just nod along. Through the glass doors, you spot your uncle leaning against his car with his hands inside his coat pocket, looking more cross than you’ve ever seen him in public. Still, you have never been more relieved to see him.
You open your mouth to greet him as you step outside, followed by Coriolanus, but Uncle Cas’s eyes land on the tear on your stocking. Acacius Innis’s eyes harden, and the next thing you know, he’s lunging at the younger man behind you. You hear a dull thud, indicating he landed a punch somewhere.
“Uncle Cas, no!” You squeal, wrapping your arms around his torso and attempting to wrench him away from Coriolanus.
“What the fuck did you do, you little – !”
“Uncle, I fell, and I tore my tights. He didn’t do anything!”
Uncle Cas simmers down upon hearing your words. “Is this true?” He asks Coriolanus.
Your friend holds a slightly bleeding lip with his thumb, but he smiles just as disarmingly as if he wasn’t at all fazed by your uncle’s outburst. “Yes, sir. It was merely an accident.”
Your uncle huffs to himself. For a moment, he seems like he's considering punching him again with the way he furls his fist, but then he dips his head in apology. “Then you’ll have to forgive me, young man. I truly am sorry for jumping to conclusions. Are you alright?”
Coriolanus merely chuckles, but it's bereft of any humour. “I was a peacekeeper once, sir. I have certainly taken much worse.”
This was a clear challenge, and you wish with all your might that your uncle wouldn’t take the bait. Fortunately, the older man just tenses his jaw and nods. “Once again, you have my apologies. I thought you had hurt my niece, and it was wrong of me to not reign in my temper.”
Snow straightens to his full height and graciously replies, “I completely understand, Mr Innis. I’d protect Nellie just as ferociously as you would.”
Your uncle all but drags you to the car’s passenger seat and follows you inside, taking his place in the driver's seat. Now, even with everything that happened that day, this is a bizarre sight, as Acacius Innis has not driven a car himself in a long while. You remain quiet as the engine roars to life, almost swearing to yourself that you hear him mutter “insolent fucking cunt” under his breath as he drives off at full speed.
Enter Level 9
Author notes:
Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!!
Sorry for any typos, I am not the best of health rn and I will be editing this when I wake up 😊 please stick around!! Snowball has more tricks up his sleeve 😈😈😈
#dark!coriolanus snow#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#young!coriolanus snow#young!coriolanus snow x reader#named!reader#x OC2ndPOV#or#18+ only#dark!coriolanus snow fic#dark!coriolanus#dark!coriolanus fic#dark!fic
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Game On Chapter Two: Denial Is A River In Egypt
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Frat! and Hockey! JJ x female!reader
TW:alcohol consumption, thats it I believe
Summary: You go to the game and realize that maybe JJ isn't so bad after all.
Word Count:4.2k
After spending days overthinking, Friday is finally here and you turn back and forth in the mirror while scrutinizing your appearance. What the hell are you supposed to wear to a Hockey game?
"Do I look okay?"
You look at Kie through the reflection and she rolls her eyes playfully.
"You look fucking gorgeous."
You twist your mouth and give yourself one last once over. It's nothing special; some jeans paired with Air Force Ones and an old band tee that you got in high school.
Sarah smirks with raised eyebrows as she watches you, and crosses her arms as she chuckles.
"For someone that swears she doesn't like this guy, you seem awfully concerned about looking good for him."
She giggles when you flip her off, and hands you your phone.
"Let's go. Wouldn't want to be late meeting lover boy." She teases, and you groan before shutting the door and bounding down the stairs and outside.
"Fuck off."
The scent of sugar and vanilla wafts to your nose as soon as you settle into Sarah's backseat, and the familiar environment eases your nerves the slightest bit. It's so undeniably her, and you can't help but smile at the photo booth strip she always keeps tucked into her visor.
Your comfort is soon interrupted when you kick a crushed monster can under the seat, and scrunch your nose.
"If my shoes get fucked up, you're buying me new ones."
Sarah turns the key and waves her hand dismissively, too focused on getting music set up.
"Yeah, yeah.'
The drive is short but fun, filled with loud singing and even louder laughing as you speed down the street with the windows down.
You rush to grab the door for stability when Sarah rockets over a curb, looking at her with wide eyes.
"Damn, bitch!"
She flips you the bird with a laugh and pulls into a parking spot before facing you.
"It was in my way."
You don't get a chance to respond before she hops out of the SUV and starts toward the door, leaving you and Kie to catch up.
You look around the crowd of students and strangers clad in team apparel, just narrowly missing someone's elbow as they maneuver past you.
"We need to find roll call." You half shout and the girls both nod while beginning to look around.
"It's over there." Sarah points, and you grab their hands to stick together.
The three of you make it past security and finally stop in front of the counter.
"I have three tickets reserved under Y/N."
You smile politely as the young girl starts rifling through a drawer, but she comes back empty-handed.
"I don't have any for that name. Sometimes the guys try to get people in but the younger players get the last pick. Who reserved them for you?"
You glance at Sarah and she shrugs with a frown, just as confused as you.
"Um, JJ Maybank." You answer, and she perks up.
"Oh!"
She returns a few seconds later holding an envelope and hands it to you with a smirk.
"So you're the infamous Keg Queen? I've got something else for you, stay there."
You frown at her weird behavior, but it starts to click when you look down and see the name written on the paper. You can't help the smile that burns your cheeks and you shake your head at his antics.
You look up when you see her coming back in your peripheral, and you already know what she's carrying.
"Oh my god."
You take the jersey from her with a laugh and tuck it under your arm.
"What did you mean infamous? How do you know my old nickname? I haven't been called that since leaving home." You inquire, and she gives a knowing smile.
"I'm one of the player's girlfriends. J squared has been talking about you all week at practice."
Her answer only leaves you more baffled, and she smiles with reassurance.
"Don't worry, you'll catch up on all the slang and nicknames. They call JJ J-squared and John B is Jombee; they all have a hockey name." She explains, and you nod while trying to stay afloat in a whole new territory.
"Right, thanks."
You walk off and jump when Sarah suddenly speaks up. You'd been so caught up that you forgot they were here for a moment.
"I didn't think he was serious about the jersey."
Sarah casts Kie a glance and they both shake their heads.
"Where are the seats?" Kie asks, and you try to scrunch your shoulders as you navigate through a sea of painted faces and jerseys. You manage to come out the other side without being marred by beer or nacho cheese and breathe a sigh of relief.
"Rinkside, right up on the glass." You finally respond, and Kie gives an approving nod.
Sarah raises her eyebrows, only half surprised that he secured you such good seats. You're standing in line for concessions when you decide it's easier to wear the jersey than carry it and slip it over your head just as you approach the counter.
You place your orders and go to pay, but when the guy looks up from his screen and sees you he refuses your card.
"You're covered."
You wait for him to elaborate, but he moves on to the next customer and leaves you with more questions than answers.
"What was that about?" You ask over the rim of your glass, making sure to cup your hand under your mouth as you walk in case it spills while you take a quick sip.
Both girls shrug as you lead the way, and you manage to make it to your section despite the chaos between you and your seats.
Your eyes widen when you finally sit down, now only a couple of feet from where the team sits. You weren't expecting to be so close to him, and you nibble on your lip at the realization. The hard plastic digs into your back as you shift around, trying to get as comfortable as possible.
You sit with your head high and shoulders back, absolutely refusing to show any sign of nerves. You're not the girl who stumbles over a boy and makes a fool of herself, no matter how much you're twirling your hair and squealing internally.
You jump when the crowd suddenly starts cheering and a loud voice comes over the speakers to start announcing the teams. The air is thick with the aroma of popcorn and sweat as people laugh and cheer, eagerly awaiting the puck drop.
Your shoes are sticking to old spilled beer and the person behind you keeps hitting your back with their knee, but the energy is unlike anything you've experienced. You can't help but smile as the boys make their entrance, and glance around at the screaming audience.
You watch as JJ skates across the ice while hyping the fans, and it's almost magical to see. He found his place here, drowning in notoriety and attention the way he could never have back home.
As soon as he's close enough, his eyes scan the crowd and light up when they land on you. He wasn't convinced you would show, and he'd be lying if he said his heart isn't racing in his chest. There's always a surge of adrenaline before a game, but having you here is a whole new rush.
Your fingers wiggle with a small wave, and he shoots you a wink while smiling around his mouthguard before turning back to the game.
He's in the zone tonight, hell-bent on playing his best to impress you. He tries to focus, but it's hard when he swears he can feel your eyes burning holes through the number on his back; the same number that currently adorns your frame.
You try your best to keep up, periodically googling something you don't understand and conversing with the girls. For the most part, you cheer when everybody else does and try to figure out what you're celebrating.
By the end of the first period, you've gathered enough information to have a general idea and find yourself having more fun than you expected. JJ makes a point to look at you every chance he gets and practically stares anytime he's on the bench.
You pretend not to notice, but Sarah and Kie pick up on the tension and use it to their advantage. What kind of best friends would they be if they didn't make fun of you a little bit?
"So when's the wedding?" Sarah teases, and you shoot her a sideways glare.
"Keep it up and you won't be invited."
Her mouth drops open in mock offense and you smirk with satisfaction before turning back to the rink.
You lean forward when JJ takes control of the puck, and everything seems to move in slow motion as he races forward and shoots it into the net seconds before the buzzer sounds for halftime.
As if your body has a mind of its own, you leap out of your seat and scream, the sound piercing through the whistles and cheers to cut straight through JJ. His eyes find you instantly, and his heart leaps at the sight of you acting as his own personal cheerleader.
"Stop looking at her like that, dude."
JJ's eyes never leave you as he tries to focus on his conversation to no avail.
"Like what?"
John B scoffs but elaborates nonetheless.
"Like you're in love."
JJ shrugs and shamelessly watches as you throw your head back in a laugh, exposing soft skin that he wants nothing more than to lay claim to.
"I'm not in love, dude. That would be crazy."
John B's eyebrows shoot up as he glances between you and his best friend and he shakes his head with a chuckle.
"Whatever, you're practically drawing a heart with your names in it."
JJ's only response is to flip him off, but John B's point is proven when the blonde is too distracted and skates face-first into the wall. Much to his relief, you don't seem to be paying attention and his cheeks burn red as he dips his head and races off the ice.
You sit back down while the guys disappear for a break, and the girls are staring at you with amusement.
"Don't look at me like that. You think I don't see the way you're eye fucking John B, Sarah?" You laugh, and she nods.
"Fair point, but I never claimed not to like him." She argues, and you roll your eyes.
The three of you are laughing when an employee suddenly appears and taps you on the shoulder.
"Y/N?" He asks sheepishly, and you smile politely while trying not to seem too suspicious.
"Yes?"
He nods his head toward the rink and you wait patiently for his next words.
"Someone's asking for you. You can follow me if you'd like."
Your eyebrows shoot up as you look at the girls, and resist the urge to slap the smug look off their faces.
"Not a word." You mock scold with a pointed finger, and they both raise their hands with small laughs.
You maneuver your way through the crowd and follow the man closely as he leads you further into the arena and away from the public eye. You briefly wonder if you should have questioned him and almost turn around, but your worries are put at ease when you see JJ standing in the service hallway grinning ear to ear.
"Thanks, Eric." He gives the guy a fist bump before he heads off, and turns to face you.
"I couldn't wait till the end of the game to tell you how good you look in my jersey."
Your cheeks burn hot and you stand up a little taller to try and camouflage the fact you're so flustered.
"Where are we?" You ask, skimming over the compliment with ease.
He watches you for a second before answering, and you know he's enjoying every second of this.
"Outside the locker rooms."
You give a small nod and JJ nearly collapses when you scrunch your nose in a way that reminds him of a bunny.
"It stinks like sweat and shitty cologne."
His laugh makes you smile, and you can't help but join in.
"You'll get used to it." He shrugs, and your eyebrow quirks.
"Are you trying to flirt with me?"
He takes a step closer and you stare up at him as he smirks triumphantly.
"Is it working?"
You tap your chin and pretend to think for a moment while moving closer, and just when he thinks he has you, your hand pats his cheek and you start walking backward in the direction you came from.
"Not even a little bit."
The sparkle never leaves his irises as you blow a kiss and wink before disappearing and he knows in that moment that he'll do whatever it takes to make you his.
By the time you find your way back to your seat, the team is re-entering the rink and you plop down between the girls. Despite your insistence that you don't have any feelings for the floppy-haired blonde, your radiant glow suggests otherwise.
Luckily, the girls don't get a chance to ask questions before the game resumes and you focus on the jersey that matches the one hanging from your body. Time seems to fly by, and before you know it, JJ scores the winning goal.
You're almost certain that your cheering can be heard over everyone else, but it doesn't stop you from screaming at the top of your lungs. You watch as they exit the rink to shower and stand to go wait in the lobby.
You figure he'd want you to at least say goodbye before heading out and you're in the middle of laughing with Kie when Sarah grabs your attention.
"Here comes your boy toy on skates."
You turn around to see what she's talking about, and sure enough, JJ is barreling toward you with John B barely keeping up. He struts up with newfound confidence and swings his arm to rest around your shoulder in a way that forces you closer to his body.
You ignoré the butterflies that erupt at the feeling of his strong muscles holding you against him and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
There's a moment of awkward silence before John B takes the initiative to formally introduce himself and you're grateful for the distraction as JJ's body wash and shampoo overwhelms your senses.
"I'm John B, but you can call me JB." He smiles, and Sarah nods.
"I remember, you used to work on the Druthers during the summer."
He looks genuinely taken aback and stutters a few times before finally landing on a response.
"Yeah, that was me. Never thought you noticed me."
She rakes he eyes over him slowly in a way that would make even you buckle, and you resist the urge to laugh as he falls prey to her alluring looks and personality.
"Oh trust me, I noticed you."
There's another beat of silence before JJ speaks, and you tilt your head up to look at him.
"We're gonna go hit a local bar to celebrate. You guys down?"
There's hardly any room for argument as you're practically glued to JJ's frame and Sarah has practically sunk her teeth into poor John B. You nod with a smile, doing your best not to be charmed by the way JJ does a cute little fist bump.
"Who all is going?" Kiara asks, and you wonder when you became so enthralled with the blonde that you lost the common sense to get details.
"Just us and a few of the other guys. Our other friend, Pope, who was at the party is coming too. Is that okay?"
JJ doesn't elaborate the way he wants to. He doesn't add that if it's not okay, he'll gladly ditch them in a heartbeat. He'll do anything if it means getting to spend more time in your company.
"Yeah, that's fine." You affirm, and he responds by pressing a short kiss to your hair that makes your head swim.
"Perfect."
JJ sends you the address, and before you know it you're piling back into Sarah's car. Your anxiety spikes when see how packed the parking lot is and it only worsens when you walk through the door to a new environment overrun by college kids.
The guys are already inside, and you smile when JJ spots you and starts toward you. Within seconds his hand is on your lower back as he guides you toward a table full of rowdy guys that you somewhat recognize from around campus.
He stops when you reach the group, and pulls you back into him with his arm loosely draped around your waist.
"How'd you find a table so quickly?"
You lean into his touch when he bends down to speak directly in your ear, but you still strain to hear him over the thumping bass from the dance floor.
"This spot is always reserved for us. Player privilege." He explains, and you open your mouth to form an 'o'.
"Ah, I see. So you abuse your status as captain?" You jest, and he looks back at you with a sparkle in his eye that you are beginning to realize is a sign of mischief.
"I wouldn't say abuse. I'm an opportunist. If being captain of the hockey team happens to open doors for me, I'm going to walk through them."
You smirk and tilt your head toward the bar.
"So if you have the opportunity to buy a cute college girl a drink, you'll take it?" You half shout, and he really thinks he might be in love.
"Only if she can kick my ass at beer pong and wears my jersey."
You can't help the wide smile that overtakes your face, and you swear your cheeks are going to be sore by the end of the night.
"Looks like the Universe is on your side, then."
Two hours and one too many shots later, you're clinging to JJ like he's a lifeline and you've made yourself at home with his friends. Loud giggles leave both your lips as you lean further into his side while you watch one of the members, Bruiser, try and fail to get a girl's number.
Your eyes shine with mischief as you take a sip of your drink and tsk at the younger boy as he sits back down dejected.
"That was brutal." You tease, and the entire table erupts in laughter when he flips you off and grumbles under his breath. Seeing you banter with his closest friends makes JJ feel warm and fuzzy, and he can't help but picture this same scenario but ten years from now with a ring on your finger.
Your eyes lock with Sarah's across the table as she mirrors your comfortable position with John B, and Kiara is in deep conversation about wildlife preservation with Pope. It's not exactly how you saw your night going, but to your surprise, you're having a lot of fun.
"You smell good," JJ whispers and you tilt your head back to look up at him through long eyelashes that make his heart stutter.
"I wish I could say the same, but you reek like old spice and athlete's foot."
His mouth drops open and he puts his hand over his heart as he feigns offense before pinching your side and eliciting a loud squeal.
"You wound me."
Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's the way the neon lights buzzing overhead bask him in a bright glow, but before you can think you lean forward and press a kiss to his knuckles that are still laying flat across his chest.
"Better?"
There's a certain innocence to your tone that tells JJ your motive was pure, but it doesn't stop his pupils from dilating with lust at the doe eyes you're giving him.
He's mere seconds from stumbling over his words and carrying you back to his room when the bartender announces last call, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn't understand why you specifically can fluster him so easily when he's spent years perfecting his craft, but he knows it's something rare and special.
"We should probably get back." You sigh, and JJ resists tightening his hold until you morph into one body as you start to stand up.
Sarah and Kie seem to notice your movement and excuse themselves as well, but not before exchanging phone numbers with their respective boys.
"Do you need a ride? I can call an Uber and ride back with you so you don't get kidnapped." JJ offers only half joking, but you shake your head.
"I haven't been drinking," Kiara interjects, and she almost feels bad when she sees the kicked puppy look on JJ's face.
"Text me when you get back so I know you're safe?"
The sentiment causes a wide smile to pull at your lips and you nod before pressing a short kiss to his cheek.
He watches as the three of you walk out with your arms around each other while laughing and John B shakes his head.
"Is our little JJ growing up? Has he finally met the woman that can put an end to his wondering eye and dog-like ways?" He teases, and JJ flips off the group as they all make mocking kissy noises.
"Fuck off."
Meanwhile, you're subjected to the same torment the entire way back. Your head lays against the cool glass window as you try to block out the sound of Sarah and Kie's goading.
"So you seemed really cozy." Kie smirks, and you roll your eyes before kicking the back of her seat.
"Just friends, Keeks."
She scrunches her nose at the nickname, a moniker you know she hates and that you only use when you want to get under her skin. She lets it slide though, and turns around with a scoff when she comes to a red light.
"Yeah, friends totally look at each other like that."
You groan loudly when you realize she isn't going to let it go, and breathe a sigh of relief when her attention is momentarily drawn back to the road when the car behind you honks.
"I treat him the same way I treat all my guy friends."
This seems to grab Sarah's attention and much to your dismay, she joins in suddenly.
"No, you don't. You were friends with Rafe and Topper yet you never once let them get that close or gave them that big doe-eyed look you always have when you're talking to JJ."
"Okay, why am I being interrogated?" You whine, and the girls just laugh.
"We just want you to admit that there might be more to your feelings than you're letting on." Sarah shrugs, and you finally throw your hands up in defeat.
"Okay, fine! Maybe I have a little thing for him, but it doesn't matter. He's just in it for sex like every other college jock."
You're about to go on a whole rant when your phone suddenly vibrates and cuts you off. You slide it out of your pocket just as you finally step out of the car, and your heart races at the name on the screen.
"Oh."
Sarah frowns and leans over, nearly knocking you down in the process to get a look at what has your attention. You angle it toward her so she can read better, and her eyebrows shoot up as she scans over the text.
Did you get home safe, cupcake?
"Just in it for sex, huh? Last I checked guys like that don't care about your safety and well-being."
You ignore her and focus on responding, just typing out a simple yes and hitting send. Barely a second passes before the bubbles pop up to show he's typing, and a smile tugs at your lips against your will.
Good, because I expect to see you again at next week's game and if I'm lucky enough maybe even before then
You shake your head with a chuckle and the girls watch from the sidelines with knowing looks.
hmm, we'll see
You don't wait for a response before heading into the house and your best friends are hot on your heels.
"You're in deep this time, you know that right?" Kie asks, and you stop in front of your room just long enough to respond.
"I know."
At that, you close the door and head to the bathroom to start your nightly routine.
After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you slip off your jeans and crawl into bed. In your still buzzed state, your inhibitions are down and you find yourself pulling the jersey up over your nose to inhale the now-familiar scent of JJ.
It doesn't take long to doze off, and even in your dreams, you seem to know that one way or the other, you're not coming out of this the same person.
#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank au#jj maybank hockey#jj maybank frat#jj maybank series#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#outer banks series#outer banks au#outer banks fluff#outer banks hockey#outer banks frat#obx imagine#obx series#obx au
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In honor of Heartstopper season 2 being released, I present to anyone who has the misfortune of coming across this post:
Heartstopper Characters as Stuff I've Done
Note: this isn't all characters (obviously). Also if you like heartstopper dm me PLEASE. I'm literally on my hands and knees begging.
Tori:
Wanted a grilled cheese but didn't want to go through the work of making one, so she figured out how to make grilled cheese with the microwave, toast, and string cheese (judge me all you want, but I swear it was so good)
Aled:
Binge read a comic online but didn't take note of the hiatus status. It was last updated two years prior. He cried.
Charlie:
Thought he saw a bug crawling on his desk and fully freaked out and nearly fell out of his chair. It was, in fact, a piece of lead rolling round.
Nick:
Was late coming down to dinner because Nellie fell asleep with one single paw on his leg and he refused to move until she woke up and moved herself (it was my cat, and it was great)
Elle:
Broke her foot falling out of her bed. It wasn't high off the ground or anything, she just had a nightmare and catapulted off. She was in a boot for months and hated it.
Tao:
Had the song "I'm just Ken" stuck in his head after seeing Barbie, but could only remember "I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten" and so he would randomly burst out singing that and then act like nothing happened.
Tara:
Her "gay awakening" was the scene in Pirates of the Caribbean when the mermaid's glass tank is broken and she turns into a human. She thought her reaction to the scene was normal. It was not. Denial was a river in Egypt for her in this moment.
Darcy:
Before coming out, she would buy anything with a rainbow and when asked why she would say "Oh I just really like the Greek goddess Iris, goddess of rainbows and...stuff?"
Sahar:
Was waiting around for band practice (not like school/marching band, I mean a BAND band) with another band member and watched with horror as the others eyes lit up with anger, and then had the same reaction when showed the phone, which showed that the singer/bassist was seeing a movie instead of coming to practice for the show that was in an hour (still pissed off about this btw)
Michael Holden (love him sm):
Was having a bad day and then saw a dog and started tearing up because of how beautiful it was. (This dog was an absolutely GLORIOUS saint bernard)
#heartstopper#osemanverse#tori spring#aled last#charlie spring#nick nelson#elle argent#tao xu#tara jones#darcy olsson#sahar zahid#michael holden
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*looks both ways, hands you a $20* If you’re comfortable with it, poly Kazuki, Rei, and reader taking Miri to daycare and the daycare moms are going feral in the background or a date or anything with those wholesome train-wreaks somehow making things work. Thank you ♥️♥️
Thanks for the request, anon! I'm mainly a fluffy-type writer but I wanted to challenge myself and give this a go, albeit a few tweaks.
Please let me know what you think (anon or not!) <3
Buddy Daddies
Pairings: Rei x Kazuki x you (polyamorous)
Warnings: Nothing graphic, but implied. One swear word.
Drabble under the cut if this isn't your sort of thing!
Aozora Daycare Moms (Non-Kazuki chat)
Sakura: Devastating news, ladies. Papa Kazuki looks to be off the market. Spotted looking very cosy earlier…
A photo of you and Kazuki is attached – the blonde man staring deep into your eyes, leaning across the table, a flirtatious smile on his face as the two of you enjoyed a mid-morning coffee. Your knees are brushing up against one another.
Yui: That doesn't mean anything, Sakura. They could just be friends catching up. I can’t believe you took photos!
Sakura sends a gif - a repeating video loop of you wiping the milk froth off of Kazuki’s top lip before he takes your fingers in his mouth and sucks, eyebrows raised seductively.
Aiko: Gosh, poor Papa Rei!
Mai: Poor Papa Rei? Poor me!
Masako: Sakura, did you really make a gif?!
Sakura: No, I took a video… my phone suggested it made a gif and I clicked okay.
Yui: I still think they could be just friends.
Sakura: Mm, and denial is also a river in Egypt.
Yui: ???
--
Mai: Ladies, HUGE developments. Huge.
Sakura: What?
A photo pops up, Rei and you, hand in hand, entering a video games store. Mai has drawn a big red circle around your intertwined hands in case it’s not obviously clear.
Sakura: Mai, that’s an awful picture. We need one from the front.
Mai: I’m working on it, jeez.
Ten minutes later…
Mai: You WON’t believe this.
Another photo, front on, of you and Rei, his arm now around your waist, keeping you snug to him as you walk down the aisle, browsing the shelves.
Masako: No, it can’t be.
Mai: It is.
Masako: No way.
Yui: Can’t be who?
Mai sends the photos of you and Kazuki and Rei and you, side by side.
Yui: Oh.
Yui: No, I still don’t understand.
Sakura: She’s dating the two of them?!
Mai: YES.
Yui: Maybe they're just friends.
Aiko: Do you think this is why Rei looks so tired - the guilt?
Sakura: No, Rei’s so quiet and sweet. I can’t see him doing something like that to Kazuki, or Kazuki doing something like that to him! She's obviously two-timing them both and they have no idea.
Aiko: Oh, my goodness, you’re right. Poor papas. That’s awful.
--
Sakura: Out in the west side of the town for an errand and who do I see? The harlot and Kazuki! Rei did the drop-off this morning and seemed perky. I can’t stand it. I’m going to confront her.
Aiko: Sakura, don’t.
Mai: Sakura, YES.
Masako: Please.
--
“Kazuki, stop!” You giggle as the blonde man kisses your neck again. He’s been terrible all morning and you’re not quite sure what’s got into him. His hand slides up your thigh, dangerously close to going underneath your pleated skirt and you playfully slap it away. “I thought we were just going to have a nice lunch, what’s the matter with you?”
“It’s this outfit, it’s unfair…” He whines. It is quite the short skirt, but it hadn’t been your choice. You think now it might have even been on purpose, the scoundrel…
“Kazuki, fancy seeing you here!” A cheerful female voice chimes. You don’t recognise her, but Kazuki seems to, greeting her with a smile.
“Oh, Sakura! Yes, we’re just out for some lunch.” He nods to you, introducing you by name. “She’s my girlfriend. Sakura’s one of the other moms at daycare, baby.” Sakura’s face seems to darken at the nickname.
“Hi!” You smile brightly. Kazuki is a good-looking man – it’s not like you haven’t seen jealous women in the past.
“Mm, hello.” She replies, tersely. “Kazuki, would you mind awfully if we had a word in private?”
“Private? Er…” He looks at you, a puzzled look on his face. “What about?”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t say in present company.” She gives you a sour look. What on earth is this woman’s deal?
“Could we do this some other time, Sakura? I don’t mean to be rude but we don’t get much time alone together, you’ll understand, with kids and all…” He throws an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
“Okay… I really didn’t want to do it this way, Kazuki, but I’m afraid she’s cheating on you.” Sakura places her hands on her hips, giving you a withering stare.
“Excuse me?!” You stand up from your seat but Kazuki pulls you back down to your seat immediately, preventing a cat fight. He knows your temper.
“You heard me, you harlot. It’s even worse, not only is she cheating, but she’s two-timing with Rei!"
Kazuki stares for a second before he erupts into laughter and you let out an exhale. Sakura looks back and forth between the two of you, in disbelief.
“I know that seems unlikely, but I’ve seen photos. I couldn’t stand to let this concubine hurt the two of you…” Her hand is rooting around in her purse now.
“What’s so funny?” Rei asks in his usual monotone voice, carrying a tray with a variety of drinks on top of it. Kazuki is laughing so hard he’s in tears. Rei places the tray down on the table and gives Sakura a hard stare.
Sakura is speechless now, trying to work out what on earth was going on. Was Aiko right and, actually, Rei and you were having an affair behind Kazuki’s back? Well, she couldn’t stand for that either. She locates her phone in her purse at last and scrolls through, finding the photographs of Rei and you in the video games store, looking particularly cosy. She hands it to Kazuki, who wipes a tear from his eye and looks.
“Oh.” His face settles back to a neutral position.
“Yes, oh.” Sakura chimes back.
Rei’s peering over Kazuki’s shoulder at the photo – his expression unreadable. He shrugs, before taking the seat the other side of you.
“Well, don’t you have anything to say for yourselves?” Sakura lectures down at you and Rei. Rei smirks, leans forward and makes eye contact with Kazuki, who gives him a sly grin. Rei’s hand slides around the back of your neck and jerks, turning you towards him before he forces his tongue into your mouth - not that you give much resistance - kissing you passionately, nibbling at your lip as if he was starved – his hand sliding up and under the skirt he’d bought for you at the same time.
He pulls away, leaving you breathless a moment and smiles up at Sakura who is standing there, shell-shocked. The audacity of the two of you, doing this in front of Kazuki! Poor, sweet Kazuki who looks... pleased? Kazuki then turns in his seat towards you, catching your chin in his hand and pulls you into his own kiss. He’s more gentle than Rei, his other hand caressing your head, running his fingers through your hair, softly kissing you over and over, before he pulls away.
“What on earth…?” Sakura forces out, looking in disbelief between the three of you.
“Sorry, I should’ve made it clear from the start, she’s our girlfriend.” Kazuki wraps an arm around your shoulders, and Rei’s hand rests back on your thigh. You’re flushed, trying to catch your breath. They’ve never done this in public before – not that you’re embarrassed. You mean, fuck, you love it when they tussle over you at home, but it just was so unexpected.
“I… I… I’m so sorry, Kazuki, Rei. I didn’t mean to…”
“I hope this won’t be an issue, Sakura. I really hope we can all still be friends.” The blonde states.
“Y-yes, of course,” she bows her head. “Forgive me for interrupting your…date. I’ll see you all at pick-up time - maybe.”
She backs away, her body shaking, before she high tails it out of there.
“That poor woman. You guys are jerks.” You giggle.
“We’re your jerks, though,” Rei whispers in your ear and you shudder.
“Hmm. I think I’m thirsty for something else now, actually. How about you, Rei?” Kazuki grins, getting to his feet and stretching.
“I wouldn’t argue. Come on, sweetheart.”
You had quite the afternoon.
--
Masako: Sakura, what happened?! Did you confront them?
Aiko: Sakura, you can’t leave us hanging like this. I’m going to bring cookies to pick-up though in case they need consoling, poor things.
Sakura: I did it.
Masako: And?!
Sakura: They knew. They both knew.
Aiko: What, they knew she was dating both of them…?
Sakura: They’re all together. They’re polyamorous. I made such a fool of myself. Gosh.
Mai: NO.
Yui: Polyamorous?
Aiko: Google it, Yui.
Yui: Oh!
Yui: ..do you think they’re looking for a fourth?
--
Check out my masterlist.
#ghostdogwrites#reader requests#poly relationship#kazuki x rei x you#kazuki x you#buddy daddies#buddy daddies fanfic#rei suwa x reader#suwa rei x reader#poly rei x kazuki#kazuki kurusu x you
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OK. Within the Princess/Knight/Dragon dynamic (damsel, rescuer of damsel, guardian of damsel). I know the automatic assumption is Princess Jay, Dragon Dami, and Knight Jon. But I think it's actually Princess Jon (golden retriever, denial ain't just a river in Egypt if you ask him about his mental health, would pretty much provably canonically rather die than admit he's not okay and needs time off but I think that'll get better once he admits he has trauma), Dragon Jay (firmly believe he can and will throw down with anyone who tries to hit Jon while he's down, does not give a shit if they're actual deities or Lex Luthor's latest pet project, Jon is polite and helpful whether he's capable of being helpful without hurting himself or not so SOMEONE has to tell everyone asking him to do things to fuck off, and Dami can and does but Jay is more vicious and personal about it because he gives fewer fucks about Nightwing using the disappointed mom voice), and Knight Dami (these two can't stay out of trouble to save their actual lives and if they won't stop fistfighting dictators they're going to need someone with infinite bail money who isn't above quietly removing many of the dictators key pawns before they can be used against his boyfriends). Propaganda for this theory includes the mental image of Suffering From Kryptonite Exposure Jon being protected by a visibly unhinged Jay who is worried but not terrified because his job is to hold down the fort till Damian can rescue them (it's about them relying on each other it's about Jon letting himself be hurt and Jay letting himself be scared and Damian letting himself be in love), and the idea of YouTube compilations existing titled 'Gossamer and Superman getting bailed out by Robin for forty two minutes and eighteen seconds'
I literally love this so much. I love the analysis you were going for and its literally what I've been trying to say all along.
I love the way your broke it down and talked about it cause I agree Jonathan may be perceived as invincible but he's not. He may have superhuman abilities but other then that he is basically just a human. Like he has trauma that needs to be desperately talked about but he doesn't want to cause he thinks he would be a burden and useless (which he could never)
Jay is sassy and will literally go crazy mode for his boyfriends. Literally no questions asked he would throw down. People think Damian is the demon who is unhinged but really it's because he had a really scarred past of being an assassin. Hurting people is what he thought was right and thats how you took put targets but then he learned to be better and that there are ways to handling things that don't need violence.
He also is very emotionally constipated (thats literally 90% of the bat fam tho) and has a hard time expressing himself and talking and it always comes out like he's mad or angry when in reality being angry and defensive just feels like the best way to deflect. This is why I think Jay is a very good rendition to Jonathan and Damian. He is like a balance to a scale they didn't even know they needed.
Also is it weird that I've been thinking about making a fantasy fic for them? Like you beat me to the punch but it's weird how you read my mind. In all honesty if you ever wanna debate hit me up cause I have so much stuff we could discuss about this.
#jay nakamura#jonathan kent#jonathan x jay#jondami#jonjaydami#batfam#batman#damain wayne#they are so silly#dc comics#hope this is okay!#supersons
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Ok, I don't think anyone's done this yet, but imagine: Spiderverse!Herobrine feat.Rookie!Y/N
He's basically like my usual Herobrine is, but a Spider-man
Also again, spoilers for those who have not watched Across the Spiderverse
His Spidey suit would of course have the Iconic Spidey eyes, but glowy, and the main colors would be blue (same as his shirt), Indigo, and white (ofc with black accents). (Also angy Spidey eyes mood)
He's in the usual same style of animation that Miles, Peter B parker, and Gwen are. (Same with Y/N's) His framerate also changes. (24 fps for the default, 12 for fight scenes)
He'd be the mentor that ends up a tired exasperated father figure for teenage Y/N. (Think of a Tony Stark and Peter Parker dynamic)
He will deny the claim that he thinks of Y/N as his child, but he does, 100%. (Denial is a river in Egypt Hero).
Especially because Y/Ns bio father figure isn't really there. (He's kinda there, but he's not really that good. Idk)
Crossed arms and annoyed, Spidey, squinty eyes are pretty common.
His powers would consist of the same things Miles Morales can do (including invisibility), with added teleportation with a "cool down". (He leaves a blue trail behind when he teleports in 12fps, but it fades almost instantly)
He's been a spiderman for a long while. So naturally, he's the mentor and Y/N needs to do what he says. (Does Y/N do this? No. No, they don't.)
Him and Miguel Spiderman were at odds. Brine was always a lone wolf, "I wanna do my thing", kinda guy, and we all know that Miguel hates when people don't conform to the "canon".
Herobrine doesn't believe all the "canon" nonsense. He knows it's illogical, and multiple universes should have collapsed in that case. He tried explaining this to Miguel, with no luck.
Hero barely holds in a snort when he finds out a literal kid (Miles) has tricked Miguel. It's hilarious to him akjdhd.
"A STUPID ASS KID BEAT ME. HES GONNA RUIN EVERYTHING!" "A kid?" *Barely keeping in a laugh* "Are you LAUGHING AT ME?!"
I can imagine Y/N would be (enthusiastically) introducing new slang and phrases to Hero that Herobrine never bothered learning.
Y/N casually rambling while trying to catch a villain with Herobrine.
"Can you not do this right now?"
Should I make Hero the "Uncle Ben" or no? (Probably nahhh. It's better to make him lose someone, and that impacts his overprotectivness with Y/N)
Man is again, bilingual (English and Swedish). He comes from Sweden, but has a northern United States accent, considering it's where he spent most of his formative years.
His age is 34 in this AU.
*rolls eyes with a sigh* "Miguel, your logic is not making any sense."
He also consistently has these expressions all the time: (I.e: "Bish, imma strangle you.")
Man is the only one more intimidating than Miguel.
He has a "tired dad mode". This only ever happens when he's been awake for more than two days and has no more energy and is running off of coffee and regret.
*tired dad mode* "Y/N, what trouble did you get into now?" "I can explain-"
Overprotective fr
Messy hair all the time, gets worse in tired dad mode.
Aroace (reason No. 1 he doesn't follow the canon, and is probably the first anomaly in actuality)
Identity is kinda a secret. Like, he's Herobrine ofc, but he doesn't like citizens seeing him in everyday attire. Cause his glowy eyes. (Kinda would reveal his identity instantly anyways if we're gonna be honest.)
No Spider name. People just call him "Herobrine".
I might do a second part if I can think of more, or if it's requested enough skhdydh
#galaxy rambles#galaxy's headcanons#spidersona????#herobrine#minecraft herobrine#spiderverse#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#man would probably be a whole lot less traumatized#someone please draw this I beg#spiderverse spoilers
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—🕷—
“I thought you wanted nothing to do with the gossip, Red?” Eddie glares at her.
During her first few days here, Max had made it clear she didn’t want to hear a word of what criminal spree anyone had planned. It always keeps her up at night, and all she can think about is the way people casually talk about stabbing people in the gut around here.
But just last night, she heard someone say something that sounded dangerously close to the name ‘Wheeler’, and she needs to be sure it was something else. It probably is. The other night, a group of guys dragged some poor schmuck with a bag over his head to the back room, and the way he screamed sounded like that one guy from biology when he accidentally touched the frog they were dissecting.
It definitely wasn’t, but the idea that it totally could’ve been made her feel cold. She thinks it’s the lack of sunlight in here. It’s making her paranoid.
“Call it curiosity,” Max glares back at him and hopes the unnerved chill in her spine isn’t translated by her face.
“You know that’s killed a couple of cats, right?” Eddie counters with a shit-eating grin...
—🕷—
MAX POV?? MIKE'S DIRTY LITTLE SECRET ACTUALLY ISN'T EVEN A SECRET??? WILL BYERS HAS AN EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWN???? DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT, YOUR BESTFRIEND IS GAY?????
And for anybody asking if a certain two people kiss—IDK WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT? IDEK WHAT KISSING IS WHO THE HECK IS KISSING IN THIS CHAPTER BC I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!!! 🤥
hehe CHAPTER EIGHT IS FINALLY FUKIN OUT NOW!!!
#byler spider man au#spider man#byler fic#byler au#byler#willbyersisspidermanbecauseisaidso#will byers#mike wheeler#dustin henderson#max mayfield#el hopper#lucas sinclair#stranger things#i rlly hope there's still an audience for this#i spent so much time on this goodlord#plz send help i am unwell
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Your stories are holding me in a strangle hold right now. I finished reading Final Project’s new update yesterday and by the gods it has me in a Heavenly-strong grip. Just Eclipse being so petty and hate-filled, Sun and Moon’s feelings towards them and the new characters!!!
AKSJSJSJS I LOVE THE NEW CHAPTERS SO MUCH! I need to go back with my AO3 account to leave a comment and more kudos because I just have so many thoughts on them! I still adore how in-depth you describe everything and how you manage to write Heavenly in a way that doesn’t make them just “oh this character acts more robotic than the robots.” I feel connected in the way they think while also understanding where some of their skills lack.
I honestly feel on the same wavelength as Heavenly in some cases. It’s hard to understand what some feelings are when you aren’t use to them. Love especially since it comes in so many different forms.
Oh yeah. The action! One of my absolute favorite parts of all your stories! I just can’t stop reading whenever I hit them. The way you write them just makes me so giddy from how creative and fun they are! I love getting to see how each y/n thinks when in danger.
That’s not to mention how fun reading the less stake-filled moments are like the scene with Heavenly leaving the daycare after dropping Elizabeth and Evan off to go to the police station for the first time. The tension, the weight of the nuance surrounding the situation is just AAAAUGH I love it!
Don’t even get me started on The book of Seastar’s “Take me to Court!” I love how it picks right up with Sun’s conflicted feelings. The boy is struggling so much (not that Moon’s doing much better). They’re both head over heels for Seastar and Seastar is likely both very oblivious and in so much denial it’s deeper than the river in Egypt.
The sleepover scene is now imprinted in my brain. It’s just so soft and Moon deciding to curl up with Seastar is adorable!
I should probably stop rambling now as this is already pretty long. Either way I enjoyed reading the new chapters and I am getting ready to read the new story you put out!
- Qe
QEEEEE!!! It's you!!
I gotta tell you, I was a little worried that the two newest chapters wasn't well received since only one person commented (of which I am very grateful for). That being said, your ask always gives me such seratonin. Might be a wise that we're not in the same vicinity because I cannot convey the love I have for you at this moment (all in good faith, platonic I swear). I am so glad that I have some type of clarification if I'm conveying Heavenly the way I wish. That is supposed to be the irony of it, isn't it? Heavenly is the robotic one and Eclipse is more human? Heavenly's learning to experience emotions and I am fascinated that you can relate to them in one of those aspects. They're learning to depend on people! They're becoming human--or, well--they're becoming the kind of human they've always wanted. At least, once he learned how to want all on his own.
And I'm so glad!! Take Me to Court has been getting such good reception, and your thoughts on it! Sure, yes, the boys may got a couple more jellies than in the jelly pile, but it shall all come into fruition, I promise. This fic is a challenge to me not to write an angsy fic, so Seastar and the boys do get a happy ending!
As always, I love your comments, and I love listening to your thoughts and questions! Please don't shy them away from me, it encourages me further.
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Jet stares at him and then shakes his head. "No, no no! I leaned in and YOU'RE the one who kissed me! And then you put your hands on me- this is your fault. You're OBSESSED with me. Admit it!" Denial isn't just a river in Egypt.
Previous ask HERE
"Jet if your lips touch mine after you leaned in then you kissed me!" What about this was so hard for Jet to grasp?? Was he just being a little shit about this? That was it. He was being a little shit on purpose. Well two could play at that game. "I am not obsessed with you but I'm so living in your head rent free and it drive you insane I can tell."
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Gilyoung is best boy.
I am so fucking done with these two.
I thought you were smarter than this, Kim Dokja. Denial isn't just a river in egypt, it seems. . .
#orv#omniscient reader's viewpoint#orv spoilers#omniscient reader spoilers#dokhyuk#kim dokja#yoo joonghyuk#kdj x yjh
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||Behind The Scenes|| pt1
‘Sky Lounge, Fashion District in San Myshuno’
||Beginning- Previous -Next||
||Click on the image for better quality!!||
“This place is so cute.” Jacqueline gushed, looking around excitedly. “You recommend the best places.”
“This was one of the places someone had told me i absolutely had to check out while I was still here. He was actually supposed to be the one to take me here himself but things happened and... he ended up not being able to.” Ariaa revealed, an unfamiliar look on her face,
“Aww, well im glad we were able to visit this place with you.” Clarisse said.
“I love how eco friendly everything is.” Jacqueline added.
“Yeah, it was one of the reasons why i wanted to come here so badly.” Ariaa said grinning. “Everything here has been fabricated with recycled materials.”
“Excuse me, Your Royal Highness...: A waitress interrupted the trio apologetically, she walked in with trays of food and drinks for the princesses.
“So we haven't really gotten the chance to really sit down and talk for a bit since we’ve landed in San Myshuno, have we?” Jacqueline spoke after a few minutes of quite munching from the three.
“No.” Ariaa said shaking her head regretfully, “The past few days have been all meetings, and photoshoots and more meetings.”
“And even more photoshoots.” Ariaa, Jacqueline and Clarisse chimed in together playfully. They all shared a giggle at that.
“So, what's been going on with you?” Jacqueline asked Ariaa leaning in her seat, a eager glint in her eye.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, has there been anything new happening in your life right now?” Jacqueline clarified with Clarisse watching on curiously,
“umm..”
“Like a new relationship perhaps?” Jacqueline lead on teasingly.
“Jacqueline!” Clarisse chasten her sister, seeing the uncomfortable look in Ariaa eyes.
“What?”
“There is no relationship happening right now.” Ariaa said firmly.
“Really?” Jacqueline asked surprised, even Clarisse seems even a little taken aback by that.
“Why do you two look so surprised?”
“So wait, you and Jonathan aren't dating?” Clarisse asked.
“What? No!”
“But didn't you guys go on that date everyone was talking about?” Jacqueline asked scrunching up her nose in thought.
“it wasn't a date, it was a business dinner.” Ariaa remarked but was ignored as Clarisse turned towards her sister, a questioning look on her face. “and that facetime call we had that day. You remembered the whole time, Jonathan couldn't keep his eyes off her?”
“Yeah yeah i totally peeped that.” Jacqueline said excitedly. “They looked so cute, giggling in the comer like that. They acted like they were in their own little world.”
“We was not-” Ariaa denied loudly, stressed. "-giggling in the corner."
“You know denial isn't just some river in Egypt.” Clarisse said to Ariaa who mouthed about wordlessly.
“And not to mention,” Jacqueline spoke up, bringing the conversation back to the important topic at hand. “Every time, I've called her, she was always up under him.” She whispered conspiringly.
“Really?” Clarisse asked invested.
“Oh yeah. It was always ‘Oh let me call you right back, Jonathan's calling,’ or ‘Jonathan had this idea i wanna share with you guys' and funnily enough when you two met for the first time, i could have swore things would have hit it off between you two, and for a second i thought it did. So what happened?” Jacqueline asked.
Ariaa looked away saying nothing.
"Ariaa?” Clarisse called for her worriedly.
“Damn was it that bad?” Jacqueline asked, Clarisse loud “Jacqueline!” going mostly ignored, “What?”
"He kissed me.” Ariaa said suddenly, making the Renaldi sisters hyper-focus on her.
"Really?” Clarisse asked. "Let's go Jonathan!” Jacqueline cheered.
"I ran away.” Ariaa sighed, Jacqueline and Clarisse excitement dropped like a stone.
“Oh?” She shared a look with her sister.
"And then rejected him the next day.” Ariaa slowly revealed. “....cruelly.” She winced.
"You did what?!"
@renaldiroyals
#||windenburg royals||#ts4 royal family#ts4 royal simblr#sims 4 royalty#sims 4 royal simblr#ts4 royals#sims 4 royal legacy
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Artist Name: These Hearts Genres: Post Hardcore, Easycore, Metalcore, Pop Punk, Emo Pop, Christian Hardcore, Melodic Hardcore Similar Artists: A Day To Remember, Taking Back Sunday, Fight Fair, Four Year Strong, Me vs Hero, Chunk! No, Captain Chunk!, Can't Bear This Party, Set Your Goals, New Found Glory, Sleeping With Sirens, Pierce The Veil, From First To Last, We Are Defiance, Four Letter Lie Bio: I've been listening to this next band quite a lot recently. When I'm not teetering on the edge of everything I've been blasting this like I'm being paid to do it. These Hearts has been, and I can say this 100% honestly, the very best thing I've listened to in a while because of what it's done for my mood. I actually discovered a new subgenre of Post Hardcore because of these guys when I first discovered them. It's called "Easycore." Now at first glance it seems like an elitist phrase created by Fugazi and Husker Du loving snobs who don't like sharing the term Post Hardcore with anything in skinny jeans and swoopy hair but it actually isn't all that bad of a term. It's essentially the crossbreed of Post Hardcore, Metalcore, and Pop Punk which just so happen to be some of my three favorite things. If you're not familiar with this type of music, I feel like this along with Fight Fair are very good introductions to the style. Now, onto the band themselves. The band got started all the way back in the magical musical year of 2007 in Fargo, North Dakota. The original lineup consisted of Ryan Saunders as the lead vocalist, Daryl Van Beek on guitar, Isaih Folk on drums, and Skyler Patzer on Bass. Tom Westerholm would join them as a guitarist in 2008. Also in 2008 was their first independent release, a gorgeous EP called Mistakes and Second Takes that came out on September 16th. This EP contains the right amount of post hardcore intricacies and guitarwork, speed, screams, with all of the catchiness of Pop Punk. I'm not going to lie though, some of Ryan's vocals on this release is a bit of an aquired taste but they will either grow on you or you'll appreciate the growth he has in releases after this. His voice is somewhere between Sonny Moore and Kellin Quinn on the "I-don't-know-how-he-can-hit-that-note-o-meter". It's still a solid release with a nice piano interlude and some fantastic songs such as She'd like To Wear The Pants, But She Can't Fit Into Mine, the title track which felt like if Taking Back Sunday was a little more hardcore, and ending strong with Hats Off For Discontentment. In 2009 Skyler leaves the band and Kyle Colby joins as lead guitarist and backing vocalist. This year is when they put out a two track demo called the "Nada Demo." Somewhere around this time, the band was signed to Victory Records. Greg Gentzkow becomes the new bassist for the year of 2010 but it later replaced by Tyler Rice in 2011. On June 21st, 2011, the band puts out their first studio album Forever Ended Yesterday. With strong songs on this record like Apology Rejected, Denial Is Not Just A River In Egypt, Romans 15, Are You Mad?, and Live To The Point Of Tears, this also features a studio version of She's Like To Wear The Pants which is even better than the original. This album also has perhaps one of the sweetest songs I've ever heard, Thinking In Terms Of Two. Just go listen to it and feel the feels. In 2012 they put out the Elephant In The Room EP which features Denial and a new track called The Inconvienience along with some acoustic tracks. There are many faith-based elements to the lyrics of These Hearts, as they were a Christian hardcore band. I feel like it's worth mentioning at this point that although they were a Christian band, they're probably some of the coolest types of Christians ever and it's never overbearing or judgemental. It's overt and proud, but not toxic. I felt like saying that since sometimes religion can be a bit of a sore subject with some people who listen to hardcore music, especially those who were raised in Conservative environments. There's nothing toxic about These Hearts, in fact it's totally encouraging and positive if anything. I consider myself someone of faith so music like this really makes me happy, but I feel like non-Christians can enjoy These Hearts just as much. In 2013 they'd put out Yours To Take on July 19th before disbanding, but not before being a breakthrough release upon the Billboard magazine charts, peaking at No. 36 on the Christian Albums chart and 33 on the Heatseekers Albums chart. By this point Ryan's vocals improved greatly and so did the musicianship. The easycore sound on this album are absolutely killer with all of the speed and catchiness you'd ever want. Whenever I've been down (which I have been a LOT as of late by the way) I've listened to These Hearts. It's been great driving music but even greater singing into my hairbrush music. I'm definitely proud to admit that I'm a massive fan of this band and if you give them a chance, I doubt they'll disappoint you. EDIT: Tristan had originally taken this post down after harassment from another user regarding the problematic things that Ryan Saunders has done in the past. (He has since apologised though apparently) I'd just like to let everyone know that both me and Tristan do not condone or excuse the actions of Ryan Saunders. Nor do we support his questionable political views. This post was made purely to appreciate the music the band had created, while separating the art from the artist. I'd like to make a disclaimer that in a few future posts I'll potentially be covering artists who may have done problematic things. Whether I'm aware of it or not, if I know an artist is really problematic I will indeed clarify it in the post about them. If I don't know if they're problematic, please message me privately (in a polite way) and I can add a disclaimer like this one. Remember that if I cover a problematic artist, I'm purely doing a post to appreciate the talent of their music or other members who've worked with them and not to condone their bad actions. I hope you guys understand. Anyway... go check out the discography for These Heart's music down here. Discography: Mistakes And Second Takes (iTunes)(Spotify)(YouTube)(Deezer)(GooglePlay) https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/mistakes-and-second-takes/291788447 https://open.spotify.com/album/3VztFF4jqkZZHZPPgpAZ2v?autoplay=true&v=L https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLPd0PhXe3Hn_oJKAbaQRu950y82W72sDO https://www.deezer.com/album/774467?autoplay=true https://play.google.com/music/m/Bkbhe5puq4c4oshhwmitqf2j5wa?play=1 Nada Demo (iTunes)(Spotify)(YouTube)(Deezer)(GooglePlay) https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/nada-demo/320113752 https://open.spotify.com/album/7sGUYnbKZr9GGZqgYlcCt2?autoplay=true&v=L https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-psFLkeb48bS2qd67Cl3q2cD2Zi8aARP https://www.deezer.com/album/774636?autoplay=true https://play.google.com/music/m/Bu2yghtdyduw6z2ylpx5olaujjm?play=1 Forever Ended Yesterday (iTunes)(Spotify)(YouTube)(Deezer)(GooglePlay) https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/forever-ended-yesterday/467076580 https://open.spotify.com/album/2AeLF6gAlqqckO17CEQxh5?autoplay=true&v=L https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLB6Y_0YwwQIP8PvWc5PsYY95oIbD-Mkay https://www.deezer.com/album/1266912?autoplay=true https://play.google.com/music/m/Bx52efkbywn72td6hw4lrligtwq?play=1 Elephant In The Room (iTunes)(Spotify)(YouTube)(Deezer)(GooglePlay) https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/elephant-in-the-room-ep/554449559 https://open.spotify.com/album/5pFBnsqirD2ihFCJczrhfW?autoplay=true&v=L https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLca7REVQkotlNf-bT8SY4lsyEPRyhxJD7 https://www.deezer.com/album/5549771?autoplay=true https://play.google.com/music/m/Bx2xpenuje5yjrilufjphus4w4q?play=1 Yours To Take (iTunes)(Spotify)(YouTube)(Deezer)(GooglePlay) https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/yours-to-take/662293127 https://open.spotify.com/album/3NsWXiSZQ474zqqH6GvMSZ?autoplay=true&v=L https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLDsMHHY9vx8sjnUG2Mo6MNmXXIwVWyRID https://www.deezer.com/album/6689451?autoplay=true https://play.google.com/music/m/Bdyag4kzhsfzbxcyzz7uowm5y4m?play=1 Favorite Lyrics: "Tonight I'll fix what's left of your soul, the scars that you have are emotional. This is how you break a bad habit. What were you thinking all along? This is how you break a bad habit when your life means more than what you're good for." (Romans 15) Recommended Songs: Romans 15 (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CPHyl5BeIBQ Are You Mad? (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPHOjqxS0mU Apology Rejected (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bZCrPybKww Denial Is Not Just A River In Egypt (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tut7Wz4vm_0 She'd Like To Wear The Pants, But She Can't Fit Into Mine (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOaL2hjwbSk Hats Off For Discontentment (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ax8ElRruNNk Thinking In Terms Of Two (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AnXrYPHmYaQ Miserable (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZbJ2MIxpjsk Mistakes And Second Takes (x)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSHcSZZj2g4&index=5
Bio.txtBio.txtOpen with Google Docs
#emo-scene-fm#nu scene#scenecore#scene music#scene bands#emocore#emo music#emo bands#emo pop#pop punk#easycore#post hardcore#metalcore#emo pop punk#christian hardcore#melodic hardcore
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OMG, your story reminded me of something hilarious that happened to me while at uni
So, I realized at the time that I was 'not straight' but I wasn't sure of the label yet because I was still learning about all the different possibilities and about how I felt I could identify.
Anyway, I spent a summer learning how to twist my tongue into a three leaf clover shape (TW - it looks a bit odd and some people might not like it) and so I finally learned how to do it, and then proceeded to spend a couple of weeks freaking my friends out 😂
Now, I'm a woman and my entire friend group was also filled with women
When I did that tongue thing, at least half of them started telling me 'if they weren't straight they would be SO turned on by my tongue tricks'
(I didn't wanna make anyone uncomfortable, but for some reason I always gravitated towards hanging out with people who identify as 'not straight' and either be out, or not even realize that that's a possibility for them - important info for later)
And those few weeks whenever I'd hear that SAME comment from different ladies I'd think to myself, "oh bby denial isn't just a river in Egypt (the Nile)"
Anyway, the thing was, that even before those few weeks, I'd get vibes from the same girls like they were hitting on me
But they were all in straight relationships and it felt so wrong to me - I do not condone any form of cheating and those things make me ridiculously uncomfortable (my first two bfs cheated on me and I know how awful it made me feel and again, I don't ever wanna make people feel bad, but also, common sense, ya know?)
But to all of them it was okay, because they were straight AND in relationships, so I slowly started distancing myself, because it made ME feel wrong
Things got even worse when they continued to act the same way as I got into a new relationship a bit later
They started getting mad whenever I'd mention my new bf, talk about something nice he did, or even talk about seeing him for the weekend (we lived in different cities at the time so we only saw each other on weekends)
They were constantly like 'You never make time to hang out with us anymore, is he more important to you!?' - I actually got that exact question from someone who I considered my best friend in the group. The thing is, is that I told them I could only see my bf on weekends so I could only hang out with them during the week (this was my first relationship after nearly 3 years because I got hurt so bad after the last one, and it was important to me to spend time with him) and after a while my 'friends' started only making plans to hang out when they knew I'd be out of town visiting my bf. I'd ask to hang out with them on a Wednesday and they'd ignore me (they even made another group chat without me and I accidentally found out about it when one of them brought up their plans in front of me) but make plans to get together LITERALLY as soon as my bus left town
Meanwhile, when all of their relationships were starting out I was constantly supportive - the girl that said that comment from earlier to me, went back to uni two months earlier than we were supposed to start classes because she missed her bf (they were doing long distance over the summer) and I was like 'yay amazing that they care about each other so much' because to me it was normal
And now there I was being made to feel wrong for doing the same things, so I just stopped hanging out with them altogether
I was only gonna talk about the tongue thing and the comments I got from those friends but by the time I got to the end of your post it made me realize they could have actually felt different towards me and that's why they were acting so weird. I was the only one in the group that ever came out and they all were publicly straight but maybe they didn't feel that way or I could just be overthinking things idk
Now I'm just ranting/venting because they made me feel bad for having a bf when it was okay for them to have bfs, even though that happened 4 years ago
But on the other hand, my bf is definitely the best person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and knowing, he's helped me get through some really tough times, and here we are, 4 years later, doing better than ever, and I haven't talked to that group of people in years. Sometimes I still mourn the good times I spent with them but I'll never forget how shitty they made me feel - at the time I thought they were doing it for no reason but I've come to think differently since then
That's my story, thanks for letting me vent, sorry things turned slightly sour in the story ❤️
... Taylor Swift is this u?
That’s v shitty babe I’m sorry they sucked so hard. Even if they fancied you they should’ve been more supportive.
It’s possible they did coz my ex-friend I feel guilty about gatekeeping did slut-shame me a lot lol but I still think it was more my fault because it wasn’t right of me to assume worst intentions. Like if that were to happen now I’d be like, “are you maybe queer in some way?” not “you’re a straight girl and this is offensive to me.”
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So,,, soukoku isn't my otp or anything but I pretty much ship anything in this fandom//rip my soul tbh,, and I was wondering if you had any recommendations for good skk fics that are canon compliant or similar for someone who's not already head over heels for the ship?
I may have a couple ;) I’m a multishipper too, so I get it, don’t worry luv. Bless your soul, I hope you make it through. I’ll make sure to get some variety for you, lmao.
Five Times Dazai Didn’t Stay, and One Time He Did by Me | Mature | 4k
Alternatively, Dazai and Chuuya don’t really know how to deal with sexual tension, and Chuuya doesn’t think it’s fair that he’s fallen in love and that Dazai leaves every time they share a bed.
Literally the only fic I’ve written that I like. So, that’s saying a lot.
carnal by Shinkirou | Explicit | 6k
It’s been a very, very long week, and Chuuya just wants two very specific things… But of course things are never that simple when Dazai is involved.
You Wish You Looked This Good by TheGreatCatsby | Teen | 1k
Chuuya knows exactly how to get under Dazai’s bandages. Beach edition.
Denial (is a river in Egypt) by Memos | Explicit | 12k
Chuuya gets DPed, fuck you, you know you’re clicking on this, just do it.
Musings by crimson_snowdrift | General | 2k
Dazai lets his mind wander as a certain redhead uses his lap as a pillow.
Those lithe fingers, those eyes that burned with passion, the sound of his name falling gracefully from those lips, and the welcoming warmth of that small figure— his own body would ache so bad for it.
Read My Lips by hybridempress | Teen | 2k
A small series of drabbles describing different types of kisses that Chuuya and Dazai have shared, accompanied by art of said kisses.
And so far, that’s about it. I chose personal favourites, and mostly shorter ones so that you don’t get overwhelmed! :D I hope you enjoy all of these!
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