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#one character lecturing another
ahb-writes · 2 months
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The Best Line I Wrote Today:
"All humans choose what appeals to them, but not everyone survives the consequences."
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coconut530 · 10 months
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🫤
well.
#Nevermore#Nevermore Webtoon#Webtoon#i do say this like every week but#That was an. Episode#Annabel gathering herself in 0.2 seconds like she always does#Yeah Ada… not the spectre you wanted huh#She wanted that Spectre for Lenore#In Ep. 31#And then she like broke down ohh poor bby#And like everyone practically saw that it was in the heckin’ lecture hall#And then like my fave moment of Annabel and Prospero ever#One bc of the angst. Always a treat#Two#two nickels for RnF characters to be cut on the hand and another tell them it won’t scar (Sid and Sawyer ep. 70)#Three Prospero let someone like comfort him#And like coach him in being top of the class#I love when he asks “Do you think me neurotic?” Like dude one moment of weakness doesn’t define you it’s okkkkkkk#And she handles it so well#It’s just such a soft and unique moment#Interrupted by Ada pushing everyone away#Even MORELLA LIKE COME ON SHE JUST WANTS TO HELP#“I care about you.. I want to help!” IHKHDHEIRHDNKWOWPRJWBWG#And then like the utter sadness and loneliness of them just leaving her alone on the stage floor#So saddddddd#And then…………. 🫤#Like dude not you LEAVE#And like… Ada don’t you remember what he did to you only like idk LAST NIGHT I DOUBT THE HAS THE BEST INTENTIONS FOR YOU#AND WITH WHAT WE’VE SEEN WITH HIM IN THE PAST HE DOESN’T HAVE GOOD RELATIONSHIPS WITH LIKE ANY WOMAN EVER#LIKE ADA I KNOW A CERTAIN IRISH (ENGLISH?? IDK ACCENTS AND NATIONALITIES) REDHEAD YOU’D BE BETTER WITH THAN THIS SOUTHERN STUPID GUY
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esthelle18 · 2 months
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I—
holy—
y’all this episode is a HYPE TRAIN
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nilesmoon · 10 months
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I baffles me how someone rbed a post from me (lit major btw) and said that they prefer fanfic over literature bc the characters lack depth or whatever in the tags and it just makes me incredibly upset to see ppl saying shit like this because there are So Many good book out there!!! literature is so much fun when you find what works for you!!! but anyways why don't you read the metamorphosis by franz kafka and metamorphosize your taste
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paimonial-rage · 10 months
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actually really like the idea of gorou’s pet peeve being messy people. he does take good care of his own tail and in his idle animation he’s disciplined enough to (almost) not touch the butterfly flapping at him so i assume he’s disciplined enough to keep his area tidy.
now imagine gorou needing to work with a reader who is messy-organised. by that i mean they’re messy to the world but reader knows and has everything where it needs to be. how’d do you think he’ll handle that? — @milkstore
Hmm... while he would go lighter on them, I can still see him encouraging them to be more organized. His reason being that just because the reader knows where everything is, that doesn't mean that anyone else does. If there ever came a need for something the reader has, but the reader is not present to give it, this could put everyone in a tight spot. They'll be forced to rummage through reader's mess to find what they're looking for with no guarantee they'll find it. Who knows what can go wrong during that wasted time!
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mishkakagehishka · 1 year
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So like. My literature notes just got interrupted because i had a new wip idea. Which is so funny to me personally bc you'll be reading notes on the specific genre that brought that divine inspiration on me, and in the margins OC name possibilities and titles to (re)read as my "models" and then right back to literature notes
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w0rrcestershire-sauce · 7 months
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had a dream about an episode where robin was confirmed canon trans got mad when i woke up
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 3 months
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Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤
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Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)
O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?
Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.
O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.
Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.
O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.
Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.
Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.
Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.
(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.
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dangerliesbeforeyou · 9 months
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god i usually love female characters that are kinda bitchy but the one in this series im watching is GRATING on my fucking nerves jfc...
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luveline · 9 months
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble
sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.
luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader
James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 
He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.
"It's not about irritating me," you say. 
"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 
"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 
"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 
What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 
James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 
"You alright?" the smoother asks.
You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 
"Lovely."
"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 
James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 
"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 
Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.
"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 
"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 
Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 
Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 
You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 
"And what do you do?" you ask him. 
He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 
"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.
"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 
James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."
"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 
"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 
Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.
"Woah," James says, beaming.  
Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 
"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 
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raddishwrites · 11 months
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Chapter twelve
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yanderenightmare · 4 months
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Gojo Satoru
TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking, death of nameless character
gn reader
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Thinking about Gojo bumping into you on his way to buy sweets and getting mortified when sensing how you pass through his infinity like it isn’t even there – touching him hands-first like it’s only normal.
And the way you look at him, all spluttering apologies – without a single clue – how you quickly walk away like it was no bigger deal than mildly embarrassing.
And he’s left there, stunned and stuck to the ground he stood on, suddenly feeling stripped naked.
He had to follow you – naturally. Can’t let the biggest threat to his life just walk around unsupervised. Obviously, he has to keep tabs on you now – every single day – your constant whereabouts, where you work and study and loiter and live, and who you communicate with.
It’s all platonic at first – nothing romantic. He’s stalking you, but it’s for safety reasons. There’s no telling who’d potentially find out about your dormant technique and use it against him.
But keeping his six eyes on you every hour he could spare all day and night of every week, eventually, he can't stop himself from starting to see you as something more than just a threat…
He's not blind to it either – he feels the change in the pit of his stomach – in his heart – in his balls even.
He blushes when you take your clothes off to go shower – needs to swallow thickly, watching you walk about your apartment dressed only in undies and a comfy T – smiles when seeing you dance around to music he can’t hear from where he’s perched on the rooftop on the neighboring building – tugs on his cock to the sight of you touching yourself, trying to time his climax to yours.
He’s not watching you for the right reasons anymore… he knows that, but he just can’t seem to stop.
You’re so normal, he’s obsessed with you. So addictive in your mundane routines. Messy notes, chewing your pen when scrambling for an exam – making another easy-fix dinner – picking up the same hoodie from the floor before throwing yourself out the door to go work your minimum wage job – coming home late only to collapse on the sofa with a random episode of some dumb sitcom playing on the TV.
He wants to be your boyfriend – imagines himself going to your school and sitting next to you in the lecture hall, studying together at cafes, watching movies in bed, wearing his varsity jacket, squeezing your ass as you ride him in someone else's bedroom at a party that got way out of hand, cumming on your face and apologizing for it when you give him head on his birthday.
He’s teetering on thirty and has killed more than he can count – both curses and humans – and here he is – fantasizing about having a college sweetheart who doesn’t even know his name…
It would be healthy for him to stop – he knows that, knows it’s becoming dangerous – but he thinks it might be too late now – all he does is try and get closer…
He thinks about enrolling in one of your classes, thinks about moving into your apartment complex, and then he thinks about taking you.
He’s watching you have a nightcap with a boy he thinks he recognizes from your class – you’re both drunk and it’s obvious where things are going...
There’s a devil and an angel sitting on his shoulders, whispering in his ear – but he can't tell which one’s which anymore. One is telling him to leave – to allow you some privacy... but the other tells him to barge in – to crash through the window and rip the guy’s head off by the scruff of his chin.
There’d be blood on his hands, but at least he’d finally be able to touch you…
He glues his hands together – tries thinking clearly – but closing his eyes only results in seeing you gasping and moaning while getting fucked by someone else and it makes him feel like he’s about to lose his shit.
He performs the rituals with his fingers without even noticing – making the hand gestures – his breathing thick before he mouths the words beneath his breath. “Infinite Void…”
You don’t know what’s happening – you’re drunk and unsure if you should be dialing nine-one-one or an ambulance. The guy you’re with is having a seizure, frothing at the mouth and spasming on the floor until suddenly falling limp.
Your breathing is sharp. You think he’s dead. You throw up. The shock makes the tears stop for a brief moment before you start hyperventilating, crying harder.
You’re shaking, and it’s hard holding the phone still – let alone dial any number. Before you can, there’s a knock on the door.
You’re not thinking clearly, naked and wrapped in just a thin sheet as you rush to greet the sound. You don’t recognize the man, but for some reason, you’re spilling your guts to him anyway – rambling about the dead guy in your bedroom.
You’re panicked, and it only takes a curt minute before you’re throwing yourself at him – hugging him tightly – your hands ice-cold on his neck, skin-to-skin without any respect to his infinity – latching onto him for dear life as if you know exactly who he is and how much he loves you.
But of course, you don’t...
You’re just in shock – having just witnessed a boy die. Completely clueless as to how the man you were clinging to so desperately was going to take you back into that bedroom where that boy was lying and do to you what he was going to do before he killed him.
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yuwuta · 5 months
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AFTERGLOW. — JJK BOYS + JEALOUSY
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❝tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine, even when i've lost my mind  
featuring. gojo, inumaki, nanami, okkotsu
content. a character study in jealousy, no content warnings, no smut in this version, fem reader
word count. 2.8k
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SATORU GOJO You’re attempting to finish getting ready for the evening and Satoru has taken his favorite activity: filing through every crevice of your room like he’d been hired as a private investigator. Even though he knows that you know that he’s nothing more than a nosy idiot, Satoru claims that it’s an important and intimate routine that he should know the ins and outs of your living space just as well as you know his—“You know exactly where I keep my boxers, and I don’t even think I’ve seen the inside of your closet—oh, hey, this is cute,” he grins, sticking out his impossibly long arm to shake a thin, lacy bodysuit on a hanger, “How come you’ve never shown me this, huh? Maybe you should wear this instead, it seems easier to take—ouch.”
He groans at the impact of your hairbrush against his shoulder, then swiftly proceeds to pout and whine about how mean you are to him when you return to ignoring him in favor of applying the final touches to your makeup. Your closet seems to be of little interest to him after that, as Satoru crosses the room to hover around you at your vanity instead. He leans in too closely, as if watching you apply bronzer was a novel sight to him. You flip your brush quickly, barely tapping at his nose and laughing at his scrunched reaction.
“Your reflexes aren’t so sharp today,” you tease. You’re prepared for a witty response, and when you glance, there’s a familiar mischief shimmering in your boyfriend’s eyes; but, then his gaze ventures slightly past you, and all signs of playfulness drain from his face. Instead of getting revenge, or annoying you further, Satoru reaches over your body and into a shallow jewelry dish to pick up the bracelet he’d spotted. It’s a dainty little thing, thin gold with a small heart in the middle glittering with shiny stones, that he threads along his fingers with scrutiny before standing up straight to dangle it in front his face for further inspection, “This is new to me.”
Perhaps you’d spoken too soon, because only Satoru would spot that one piece of jewelry amongst the others swimming the tray. His eyes flutter between the bracelet and you, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head, and the accusation he won’t say outloud—did you buy yourself heart-shaped jewelry, or is there something else going on here?
You sigh and keep your expression and voice neutral, your attention seemingly still focused on the finishing touches of your makeup, “It’s new to you because I haven’t worn it in years,” you tell him, “My ex gave it to me.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you occupy yourself with your mascara, before Satoru speaks, “That makes sense, it doesn’t look all that promising. What is it—barely gold plated?” he taunts, sweeping away his air of concern with one of mockery, standing up straight to twirl the bracelet around his index finger, “Figures your ex boy toy had no taste for the finer things in life. You’re worth more than this, my darling.”
You shake your head with light laughter, patting in the remnants of your setting spray before standing. Satoru continues on, rambling about the poor construction of your commercially produced bracelet—holds it between his index finger and thumb like it’ll poison him if he exposes it to too much of his skin, and you can’t help but smile as you reach for the lapel of his blazer to pull him down for a kiss. He has no words of objection to this, pulling you in by the waist for another and another and another, before you finally pull away, “Come, let’s go. I don’t feel like getting lectured by Utahime for your tardiness again.”
You’re too preoccupied for the rest of the evening to notice the item missing from your jewelry dish. What you do notice, two afternoons later, shortly after Satoru has left to pick up Nanami from the airport, is a blue velvet box with your name written in pretty, gold cursive along the top—and inside, a gold tennis bracelet, glittering with diamonds, with a necklace to match. You have no doubt they’re legitimate, if not for the way the sparkle, then by the text that rings through on your phone after you question Satoru:
from: satoruwu 🫧🩵 — only the best for my baby <33
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TOGE INUMAKI
Toge knows that the price of coffee has gotten way out of hand, but what bothers him more is the decreasing pace of said coffee getting made and the increase of crazy, caffeine addicted people who feel the need to be loud around him while he’s waiting for his drinks. You, however, seem to take pleasure in his suffering, as you always thank him and coo, saying he looks cute despite his grumbly demeanor, “You always look like you fought a war for two cups of coffee, Toge.” 
He rolls his eyes as he steps into your apartment, not minding the sound of your giggling behind him. He sets the drinks on your island, and pulls out a stool to sit on. You round the marble, reaching him just as he’s pulled down his mask for a thank you kiss to his cheek. He wants to make you suffer for longer, but when you lean against him, he can’t help but to return the hug and kiss your forehead—you’re welcome, always.
Still, he pokes at your head, waits until you dig your head out of his shoulder with curious eyes, before he points to the Keurig sitting in the corner of one the wall-mounted counters, and moves his hands to sign, “Why keep that if you spend all my money on coffee?”
“Rude. I offer to pay all the time,” you chide, poking at his collar bone and standing straight. You make your way back to the opposite side of the counter, and reach to a drawer to fetch a straw, before shrugging, “My ex left it here when we broke up. I keep it for the aesthetic—I’m not even sure if it works.”
A myriad of thoughts runs through Toge’s mind—most importantly: had your ex left other things here, and how quickly could he get rid of them?
“Besides,” you break his murderous train of thought, “None of the pods make good espresso. Couldn’t even make my hot girl latte if it worked.”
“Your ‘hot girl latte’ is iced,” Toge signs.
Under normal circumstances, a comment like that would earn him a flick to the forehead, but you can tell that behind the sarcasm, Toge is actually upset. So, in lieu of teasing him, you walk back over to him; settling yourself behind his stool to give him a back hug. You lean your cheek against his shoulder and press a small kiss there, “You’re cute.” 
Toge huffs, shaking his shoulders for dramatic effect. You laugh, leaning up to give him another kiss on the cheek. “You’re cute and you have nothing to worry about. It’s an old coffee machine.” 
He hums, taking another sip of his coffee before turning, barely bumping the top of your forehead, so you can see his raised eyebrow. You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, “You’re cute, and you have nothing to worry about, and I love you.” 
He finally smiles again, content, and grants you another kiss to your forehead. With his mood back to normal, the two of you finish your coffee and carry on with your scheduled study session as normal (normal being Toge leaving you alone for all of twenty-seven minutes, before he starts taking videos of you with various outrages Snapchat filters on).
However, the following day when you return from your classes, there’s four new items on your kitchen counter: a silver espresso machine, a reusable Starbucks cup (already filled with your usual drink), a neatly folded apron decorated with cartoon Shiba Inus, and a small card with Toge’s bubbly handwriting on it: “Don’t worry, I’ll still pay for you $6 pink drinks, but if you wanted to thank me by making coffee in just the apron, then I wouldn’t complain ;)”
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KENTO NANAMI Kento is a rational man; he favors using logic to carry out decisive actions, rather than letting his emotions get the best of him. So, the rational part of him knows that it’s not a big deal that the lunch bag and bento-style tupperware you bring to work was a gift from your ex-girlfriend; but there’s a small, ugly, green part of him overrun with jealousy and another bitter-tasting feeling he can’t quite name.
Because it’s not that important. It makes sense that you keep using them—the lunch bag is nice, leather, sleek, and insulated, and the tupperware is sturdy and functional. The whole system is sustainable, practical. It was a good present, one that objectively serves a good purpose whether or not it was given by an ex or not.
Maybe that’s what he hates so much. That this person still has room in your life, even though you haven’t spoken to them since you’ve met him. Kento doesn’t like that reminder—that there are people out there who might be a good fit for you, a better one than him. Those ugly feelings aside, there’s a sour taste in his mouth when he packs your lunch now; knowing that the food he cooked for the two of you—the meal you’re both going to indulge in—sits in a container gifted to you by an ex-lover.
Irrational to the point of being unfocused, he doesn’t realize how close the glass is to the edge of the counter, and when he turns to scoop more rice, he accidentally knocks it over with his elbow. It breaks into tiny pieces on the ground, the small portion of rice and chicken spilling onto the ground. The sound draws you out of your bedroom, mascara wand in hand and robe still on to call for him, “Kento? Everything okay?”
“I… it was an accident,” he explains, setting the spoon down in favor of reaching for a napkin, dropping to his knee with a light sigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it.”
Your laughter surprises him, prompts him to look up at you with broken glass shards pooled in his palm, “You don’t have to worry so much! It happens, we have a million more.”
There’s something about the way you don’t seem to acknowledge it being special to you in any way—Kento’s not even sure if you recognize what broke—that reassures him. Because it really was an accident, but Kento doesn’t mind that he managed to break this particular plate. 
When he shoos you back to getting dressed, he finishes picking up the broken glass shards. There’s a certain lightness to his actions now, petty as it may be, he’s happy. Spends extra time writing a note for you to see when you unpack your food before he retires to the bathroom to start getting ready himself. 
Maybe he could do something about that lunchbox next. You don’t seem to mind.
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YUUTA OKKOTSU Thursdays are Yuuta’s favorite day of the week because on Thursdays, you two meet up at your spot, which is really just a set of twin benches in the west quad, but it’s your place and Yuuta loves it. You will have reserved a study room in your favorite library, and Yuuta will buy snacks for your study session before you both head to the library in an attempt to finish up your work for the week in order to keep your Friday evenings free.
Yuuta usually gets to the bench before you, a combination of the engineering building being a little bit closer, and his legs being a lot longer. He doesn’t mind waiting for you, as it’s usually his first time seeing you in two days (your Tuesdays are too packed for anything other than a shared coffee break between lectures, and Wednesdays are his hell days), and spotting you through the crowd of dissipating students always brings a smile to his face.
You look cute today, an oversized sweater enveloping your frame that Yuuta can imagine you cozying into and nearly dozing off in your dreaded microbiology lecture. He laughs to himself at the mental image, just as you stop in front of him to ponder, “Something funny?”
Yuuta shakes his head, leaning down to kiss your forehead with a proper greeting. “Nothing,” he reassures you, reaching around to pull your backpack off of your shoulders, and slings it over one of his, “You look cute. Did you mean to buy a sweater big enough to double as a blanket?”
“The oversized look is in,” you scrunch your nose and roll your eyes, letting Yuuta take your hand in his despite his teasing, “I don’t even think I bought this, honestly. It might be Todo’s? Or Toge’s—it might even be Maki’s at this point.”
Yuuta freezes. He feels the world stop and a million different emotions surge through him at once, but the most prevalent of them all is something ugly and green. He could deal with Toge, though he doubts he’s the culprit. While you two shared a penchant for oversized clothing, Toge was more often than not the thief, rather than the lender, and he’s pretty good at keeping his collection of stolen goods under lock and key. Maki was out of the question, too, because you shared a class with Nobara earlier today, and there’s no way you’d have made it out of there wearing her girlfriend’s sweater.
So it probably was Todo’s. And Yuuta had said you looked cute. Though he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole, his moment of self-pity is waning, and overcast by something steely, something too-hot bubbling in his chest. The question of why you have it goes over his head—he’s not concerned with that, nor will he fault you for it—the matter at hand is that you’re wearing it. And, sure, Yuuta thought you looked good in it before, but he could name sixteen other things you’d look better in at this very moment.
You’ve gone on to ramble about something that happened earlier, but Yuuta’s not listening. He drops your hand first, then both of your backpacks on the bench behind him, before tapping at your wrists. You don’t seem to understand him, cocking your head to the side with a pensive expression, but Yuuta only taps at your wrists again with a simple command, “Up.”
It doesn’t seem like you understand, but you follow anyway, and Yuuta is pulling the sweater up and off of your body before you can question him. He tosses it onto the bench with little care, then removes his white jacket and places it atop your backpacks. “What are—” you don’t have time to finish before he’s pulled his own hoodie off his body, and slid it over your head.
Yuuta smooths out the fabric under his palms with a satisfied grin on his face. Much better.
“Aw, Yuuta!” you bring a hand to tug at the strings of the hood, a wicked smile replacing your dazed blinking, “I didn’t know you were so possessive.”
You tease him until he’s red up to his ears, embarrassed and borderline bashful, a complete 180 from the looming jealousy that took over him moments before as he shimmies on his jacket again and picks up your back backs. He huffs, as you tease him, circling an arm around his as you begin to walk to the student center. He doesn’t know if he agrees with your declarations of him being a possessive boyfriend, but he does know that he’s your boyfriend, and your boyfriend only.
“So, you think I look cute, still?” you question, picking up a pack of gummy worms. Yuuta lets out a breath of laughter, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “Even cuter than before.”
(Two days later, Todo can be found screaming wildly to Itadori when he comes across a familiar hoodie strewn across a random bench on campus—who considers visiting the Student Health Clinic to make sure an eardrum wasn’t ruptured—because, “Bro, what the hell? I swear I fucking lost this thing!”)
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katkit14 · 7 months
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What's its like being a female in all the Dorms
So I was making characters from my last idea and then it came to me. Headcanons for being the only female in each dorm!
Prompt : So rundown, you are the only female student in the whole school. You were an a talented young woman who was reached out to, as a great opportunity for NRC to open their doors to both females and males alike. (in reality Crowley just thinks girls on campus would be less rowdy then all boys. Means less work for him. Or maybe it's cause RSA started to, and Crowley is offended. Either way you are here now!)
Warnings : Reader isn't yuu/Mc. Reader is born female. mentions of sexism and harrsement. A little cussing to. Mentions of Periods and Bras.
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Heartslabyul
Riddle would be just as hard on you as the other freshmen. He sees you no differently. Male, female? Doesn't matter, you are still a student. You must obey all the rules to a Tea (get it?). If you don't then it's off with your head just like everyone else. Which if your sorted into this dorm there is good chance you are okay with that. I could see you being more a stickler for rules but even if your not at least riddle is fair.
If you're more chaotic and less strict then Riddle would treat you like Ace. Don't think you are getting away with things just because you act all innocent. He will make you write a 100-page essay on what you did wrong and why you won't do it again. That's if it's after his overblot. If not then it's "OFF WITH YOUR HEADU".
Though if you were forced into a bedroom with boys, Riddle might raise a fuss saying it's improper and get you your own bedroom. He will make the mistake of going through Crowley though.
Trey wouldn't act any different either. He'd also just see you as another freshmen. Carter though, he would avoid you. Like oh no, he has sisters. He "knows" what girls are like. He will warm up to you though.
Ace will flirt so much with you it's unreal. Cheesy pick up lines, smooth one liners, etc. He'll become annoying with it. Like get a spray bottle kind of annoying. Deuce is the opposite. He is super respectful and always a gentleman to you. He may become less stern if you befriend him but he'll always be a bit soft around you. If you ask, he'll beat ace up.
Now the rest or heartslabyul really doesn't react to you, you're kinda just another student. No one looks out for you but no one in the dorm harrases you. Now when it comes to female stuff, everyone in this dorm gets real awkward about it. On your period and are Bleeding through your WHITE dorm uniform? Everyone swet drops but only a few people speak up. If you do end up having to share a dorm room (even with riddle throwing a fit) the other boys in the room would be respectful and change in a bathroom instead of the room. They also would allow you access to the bathroom first ( unless it's ace. Then he pushes you out the way saying "Ladies first my ass" ).
Anyone who harrases you will face Riddles wrath though. Oh and the one brain cell duo. Riddle will be more proper by lecturing them but if the One brain cell duo gets ahold of them, then lights out.
Savanaclaw
Leona let's you off easier then the other students. Mostly cause he is mildly intimidated by you. He knows you aren't a beastman, but it's still ingrained into him to respect females. So if you just stand up to him and be like "yeah no" he won't really fight you. If you are on the softer side, he'd slowly but surely start to have a soft spot for you. He'd still respect you, even if you weren't a fighter. He'd just be more of an asshole if you didn't scare him as much.
If you were forced to share a room, it wouldn't be long before you had your own room since there are a lot of drop outs. Leona would put in the hardwork of making ruggie clear you out a room to yourself.
Ruggie's mostly the same way, he mostly respects you and your stuff. He won't take your stuff either just because of that slight fear. If you befriend him, he'll be more likely to share his food with you then with a guy.
Jack mostly treats you as an equal. No more, no less. Though he can be kinda awkward at first, once you befriend him he's a lot more chill.
Now the rest of Savanaclaw is spilt into two. Seeing you are the mom of Savanaclaw or being sexiest against you. If you are a fighter then you can easily put the sexiest ones in their place. If not, Jack can do it for you. Mostly the ones who see you as mom, would go to war for you. Like you are highly respected. Now if you accept the title then it's a whole lot of caring for dumbass's after fights, and making sure everyone hydrates after work outs. If you don't accept it, it doesn't matter cause they aren't dropping it. But you can kick their ass if they get to annoying.
During sports you have a whole line of bestmen and humans alike cheering for you! Like personal cheerleaders. And during school hours you have a bunch of guys coming through checking up on you, seeing if you are okay. They gotta take care of their dorm mom.
If you get your period, the whole dorm knows. Fun fact, period blood doesn't smell like fresh blood so they know it's your period to. Expect to find a basket of chocolate at your door, with a note saying " please accept this, in return don't kill us."
Octavinelle
Azul has a different opinion depending on what you are like.
I imagine if you got sorted into this dorm then you are more like a shady capitalist. If that's the case then he constantly feels threatened by you and has the Twins keep an eye on you.
If you are more Naive or more sweet then he is a lot less afraid and he puts you to work at the Lounge. Like as a hostess or a waitress, in order to lure more costumers.
If you were forced to share a room with boys he'd arrange another room for you...for a price. Man has no chill.
Jade doesn't really treat you any differently. More or less isn't fazed. He will still beat you up if he has to, and it won't make him go softer on you.
Floyd also doesn't care. He treats you the same as well. Honesty I could see him forgetting you are a girl. If you are a bit curvier he will squish you more. If you are the skinny side he likes to shake you. He swears you raddle. He will base his nickname off your personality, rather then your gender.
As far as the other students? Well everyone tries to budy up with you just purely based on business. It's an opportunity to get you to do stuff for them. If you're at negotiation then you'd be sitting pretty on favors, thaumbucks, and stuff.
Now if you choose not take Azul up on his deal and you are forced to share a room, they will be respectful and not change in front of you but other then that? You are on your own unless they owe you. Need pads/ tampons? Sams shop isn't to far away and you have working legs. It can be kinda hard to make friends in this dorm, with everyone being so shady and always wanting something from you. There really isn't anyone to help if you get harrassed either (unless you befriend the twins, then big scary dog previlige), though if you complain to Azul enough he will step in. You have to be pretty independent to be in this dorm.
Scarabia
Kalim and you are besties. It doesn't matter if agreed to it, he just thinks you are so cool! He treats you like his little sister...so basically like all the other students. He is always inviting to parties and he will take you out on magic carpet rides! He may come off strong but he just wants you to feel comfortable. He does put a lot of stress on jamil though with this...well even more stress.
I feel like if you had to share a room with boys and said you weren't comfortable with that then he would build a whole new just for you! Oh come on, it's the least you he could do to make you comfortable.
Jamil takes a lot longer to be cozy with you. He treats you with respect but doesn't really interact with you more then he has to which he has to a lot thanks to Kalim. Unless you befriend him somehow, then he slowly becomes more protective over you.
Kalim tries his best but doesn't understand female problems. Jamil on the other hand is the one to call if you have really bad cramps that wont go away or need help getting pads/tampons. Just take it easy on him, he's already got a lot to deal with.
The rest of the dorm is pretty nice to you. Most of them try to be helpful where they can, and it's really easy to befriend guys your age. Not a lot of harassment happens here but when it does Jamil will handle it unless you take care of it yourself. Even if he doesn't like you that much, he still doesn't believe in acting that way to girls just cause his little sister.
if you refused to let Kalim build you a room then some of the boys would move in with each other to let you have a room to yourself.
Pomefoire
Vil is even harder on you then he is on other students. He doesn't want you to get away with stuff and not put your best in just because you are female. He will push and push to do your best. From skin care regimens and diets, to work outs and class's on etiquette (depends on what you need according to him.) you would be his secret favorite but he would never tell anyone. Best believe though you will have your own room, and bathroom. He'll get you to chat with him. Tell him who you like, who bothers you. I can just see him judging whoever you like so hard. especially if it was another Dormleader like " Really? Couldn't you do a little better?"
Rook is a little more flirty to you, but not to much that anyone notices. I think flirty is just his personality. Anyways he is a real gentleman, still does as Vil says but gently. He also seems to get a bit protective over you, often getting people when they make you uncomfortable, even if you can handle it yourself.
He thought you were just a girly guy like him at first. Once he finds out your a girl, Epel thinks he has to look out for you. But makes a bunch of off hand comments that make Vil smack him. He is one of those "you can't hit a girl" kind of dudes.
As for the rest Pomefiore, they don't even notice you are a girl. Even if you very curvy. They just think it's drag or something. If your Skinner they just think your a normal student. Unless you tell anyone you are a girl they won't know. If you do tell them they don't care. I can't really see anyone in the dorm messing with you. If not from pure "I don't care enough" then it's the fear of Vil and Rook.
Vil refuses to let you share a dorm room, even if you are fine with it. Unlike Riddle he won't try to go through Crowley. He'll just do it. If there aren't any other rooms then you can stay with him. He if that does happen, he will be very respectful but you won't be able to escape his nagging.
I can see Vil kind of catering to your needs. Like he keeps tampons and pads in the dorms bathroom and giving you ways to get blood out of your clothes. He wants you to feel comfortable.
Ignihyde
Idia, talking to someone? Let alone a girl? Yeah no. He maybe talked to you once or twice because Ortho made him. He stays as far away from you as possible.
Ortho and you are friends. He is just so adorable how could you not? Even if you are shy, it's fine cause he's not. Once you are friends he constantly trying to get his brother and you to interact, but that works as well as trying to introduce water and oil.
Don't worry about sharing a room either cause if you have to, your dorm mates are never there. They refuse to interact with anyone. Hell, I can imagine a student making a wall divider just so no one doesn't have to talk.
It's safe to say no one is gonna harass you. They would feel scared being around you. I guarantee you that they have never talked to a real girl, and they don't plan to. That does mean you are on your own, about everything. It can also be hard to make friends but not impossible. Just hard. But hey you have the best wifi in the whole school! I imagine if you are in this dorm you are probably more antisocial yourself so you are probably fine with no one talking to you. But if you aren't, probably look for friends outside of your dorm.
I'm sorry this one is shorter, there isn't a lot to say on this dorm.
Diasomnia
Malleus is more then welcoming. Though he will keep his distance if you are scared of him. If you aren't then you will quickly become friends with him. He doesn't really see you differently then other students, but he does understand you may find some challenges that other students won't and he tries his best to accommodate to that.
If you share a dorm room, and you aren't comfortable he will get you another room to yourself. Very easily to. If you are fine with it or don't say anything then he won't know to so speak up. Feel free to complain to him. I don't know why but I see him being a softer dorm leader.
Lilia has to adopted you, sorry. Sebek and Silver both betray you, and point to you whenever Lilia asks who wants to try his cooking....if you survived feel free to punch them.
Speaking of Sebek and Silver, Sebek dislikes you. Or at least at first. He thinks your far to close to Malleus, but also you should worship him? Can't have your cake and eat it to. But after awhile he accepts you but barely.
Silver likes you just fine. I can see really anyone getting along with him. The only thing really wrong about him is sleepyness but he can't help that. So you two will probably become friends no matter your personality.
As far as the rest of dorm goes (is there other students? But nah really) most people leave you be. Not really talking to you or paying attention to you. I don't really see anyone fucking with you here, but if they do lilia will see to it if you don't handle it yourself. If Malleus finds out though, boy do they get the hell out of NRC. Malleus doesn't believe in sexism. Really none of the Diasomnia boys do but Malleus and Lilia have the power to do something about it.
Lilia and Silver is a lot more understanding of Female problems then Malleus and Sebek. Silver is a very understanding kind of guy, and Lilia's old has experience. I imagine fae also have periods but they are different. So lilia might not understand entirely but knows the basics. Malleus is clueless though he tries to understand. He will ask questions on everything if you allow him to, if not Lilia will explain. He just wants to know, so he can help. Sebek though just refuses to learn or care. He doesn't see you any different from anyone else really. So he treats you like he does all the other first year's (your poor eardrums). None other then Malleus ( if you've befriended him) are that protective of you. With most viewing you can take care of yourself just fine.
If you do end up sharing a room though, I feel like it'd probably be with Sebek. Who doesn't care whether you are Female or not. He won't change in front of you or try to peep at you. He will leave your stuff alone to. But sharing a room with him comes with it's own challenges.
He will still keep up his shrine to Malleus. He will hog the bathroom half the morning. He will be very loud in the morning and at night. Great seven forbid you stay up past 9pm.
I don't really see you sharing a room with other dorm members but if you do, then they mostly leave you alone. They won't change in front of you but that's it. Not really much to say there.
Bonus
If you leave Bras around your room in ignihyde, One of the boys will faint.
If you're in Pomefiore, you will be one Crewels favorite students.
In Heartslabyul, if you leave a little pad station in the bathroom, some of the first year boys will start using them as badaides.
The Savanaclaw boys use Hair ties and Srunchies as a weapon so if you have long hair, good luck.
If you are in Diasomonia, and rooming with Sebek. If you leave blood on the toilet seat, he will freak out asking in a very tsundere way if you are okay, once it's explained...Lilia will not let him live it down like ever.
If you are in Octavinille, don't ever leave a bra or undergarment in the open. Floyd will use it as a sling shot. (ace would to)
In Scarabia, Kalim forgets you are girl sometimes. Like" hey you want to go swimming with me? I had a pool put in yesterday! Everyone was getting way to hot!" "sorry I can't im on my period" "What?". Jamil faceplamed, cause Kalim knows what a period is, he just forgot you get them.
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ozzgin · 5 months
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OZZGIN!
May I request an idea/imagine?
It is about yandere! mental asylum patient and psychiatrist! reader, who is very practical and strict regarding her job, takes no BS from others. But, for some reason, she has a soft spot for yandere! mental asylum patient. The reason could either be he had a hard childhood in which he had to do what he had to do, which brutally killed his father, who used to abuse his mother and sister, but when the father tried to sell the sister into prostitution to buy more alcohol, all hell break lose. Psychiatrist! reader thinks what yandere! mental asylum the patient did was OKAY, and she wants to get him out of the asylum. They love each other deeply and would do anything, so far as to kill for one another. If you can, make it as twisted as you can. I live for some dark romance!
Please ignore my request if you are not able to do it. I completely understand. Thank you in advance! <3
Oh my, this request hits somewhat close to home as I have a friend incarcerated for similar reasons. I'm pondering the logistics behind this context you've provided, since murdering someone won't necessarily land you in a psych ward unless there are other symptoms that come with it. And so I've taken the liberty to expand the character's profile if that's alright. (Conveniently enough I still have my psychopathology lecture notes)
I want to add, however, that this story in no way romanticizes mental illness! If anything, one may consider it an opportunity to reflect on the fact that so many people struggling with disorders do not receive the proper care for it, or only do so when it's too late. Furthermore a medical professional should never, ever behave like this and whatever is written here should stay in the realm of fiction!
Yandere! Patient x Psychiatrist! Reader
Featuring a patient that's pushing the boundaries of your work ethic and might even succeed.
Content/warnings: female reader, detailed mentions of mental disorder, violence, obsessive behavior, breach of professional conduct
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You roll up your sleeve and check your watch. He should be here soon. Out of habit, you shuffle the papers for a quick case review, even though you already know all the details by heart. You carefully set aside the patient’s MMPI and WHODAS entry assessments, then your first interviews. Your eyes briefly rest upon the resulting report you’ve comprised: Schizophreniform Disorder (Provisional) with good prognostic features; Diagnostic criteria consisting of delusions, disorganized speech (frequent derailment with episodes of incoherence, echolalia) and comorbid catatonia. Responds well to antipsychotic (clozapine 25mg/12 h) with no imminent need for dosage increase. As it currently stands, he will be fit for proper incarceration in less than 6 months. Is it something you agree with? Not quite. You’ve presented your case many times and it has always been met with pitiful shrugs and dismissals.
The door opens and you fix your posture, sweeping the documents back into your drawer. “And? How are you feeling today?” You ask, flashing a professional, cordial smile as the assisting nurse leads the patient to his seat and prepares her leave. “My chest hurts.” The man answers in a low voice, glaring at the nurse. He taps his foot against the plush carpet, seemingly restless. “How bad would you rate it? Chest pain is a somewhat common side effect of your medication.” You retort, following the movements of the woman finally excusing herself and exiting the room. Once you’re alone, the man’s shoulders droop and he visibly relaxes. “It’s not that, you know it. When can I touch you again?” He pleads, despair twisting his features. You tense up at the words. “Behave yourself. It hasn’t been that long.”
It’s not something you’re particularly proud of. In fact, you might even call it one of your great shames in life. You’ve always been a textbook professional, perhaps even too strict according to your coworkers and most patients. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have dared to imagine you’d violate the code of ethics by falling in love with your patient. But something about his situation stirred your sense of justice. Surely one cannot be punished for protecting their loved ones. The only criminal in the equation, at least in your eyes, was that joke of a father and he had it coming. So you found yourself wrestling against a blooming protectiveness and favoritism towards the young man brought here last month.
What would have normally compelled you into action had therefore been silently swept under the rug. Or even worse, you secretly indulged in it. A patient showing signs of affection towards you would instantly be transferred to a different psychiatrist. Yet you couldn’t put away the letters written by this one. Erratic, crumpled notes of “I love you” written countless times, pencil dug so deep it tore into the sheet. Bizarre illustrations that looked almost threatening. His elaborate delusions before medication was introduced, where he’d detail in grand narratives how you were fated for each other and nothing would stop him from having you sooner or later. You do not know what forces possessed you into this addictive plunge, but you’ve come to enjoy his violent, frenzied confessions. So much, that during one of the unsupervised meetings you let yourself pushed into the sofa as his hands tugged at your body in rabid need. It was so out of character that you wondered if it truly happened, though the bite marks and scratches on your neck and chest proved otherwise.
“Are they going to send me to prison?” He changes the subject and stands up, walking towards your desk. “Most likely. What you have is the result of a traumatic event, not a lifelong condition. Sporadic episodes that can be kept under control with antipsychotics aren’t enough of a reason to keep you in the hospital.” You press your legs together nervously and glance at him. “Can’t you just say it’s no longer working?” He suggests, kneeling before you and placing a hand on your thigh. “You know I can’t lie on the report.” You really don’t like it when he manipulates you like this. “Ah, yes, because lying is worse than fucking your patient.” He scoffs, annoyed. “Don’t threaten me like that”, you say as you turn towards him, but you’re stopped by the rough grip of his hand over your cheeks. “I’m not threatening you, I’m threatening everyone else. Listen, (Y/N), I’m not fucking around. I don’t mind pretending to be crazy if I have to. Will the meds still be working if I steal a shaving razor and cut the nurse open?” You try to open your mouth, but his fingers are pressed into your skin, locking your jaw into place. “I’m not going to prison. I’m not. Then I’ll never see you again and that can’t happen. You know that.”
Eventually he releases his hold, allowing you to speak. "I understand. Then there's no choice but to arrange your escape." You sigh, defeated, and he raises his eyebrows. "Won't that get you in trouble?" You chuckle at his statement. "Either way I'll be in trouble. You said it yourself. Might as well quit before I have to stand in front of the ethics board and have my license revoked." You'd prefer to keep the last ounce of pride if possible.
He sits on the floor and you notice his trembling hands. "Nervous?" You ask. "No. Just really happy. I'm not a bad person and you were the only one here to see it. But God, (Y/N), I'd kill anyone if it was for your sake. I can't wait to hold you whenever I want." He gazes at you as a smile widens on his face.
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kitscutie · 6 months
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snow and roses: part II (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)
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pairing: coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!
summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.
a/n: part two is here! hope you enjoy, remember requests are open and there are more parts to come :) p.s - all of the love on part one means the world!
word count: 2.3k
find part one here!
join my taglist here!
Over the past eighteen years you couldn't picture a single day you and Coriolanus hadn't spent together. Birthdays, school days, even throughout the war, you spent time together.
Today was different. He hadn't met you this morning and you couldn't help but miss his presence. His character enveloped a room, always making it clear he was there without really having to say a word. You found it comforting, others found it threatening.
The Tributes arrived early this morning and it was something you had dreaded, very soon you would actually have to meet Wovey. Mentor her, care for her, and it riddled you with guilt knowing that it was all a challenge. Her life was a challenge to you.
Coryo's presence could've softened that burden and yet, he wasn't here. No warning no explanation he just didn't show.
"Where's Snow?" Asked Arachne as you all stood outside your classroom at the Academy, preparing for yet another lecture from Casca.
"I wouldn't know." You shrugged, secretly seething at your boyfriends disregard to tell you where he was going before he disappeared.
"Oh please. You two are practically attached at the hip." Scoffed Festus. Fixing his hair in a small compact mirror which he carried around in his bag.
"I heard he's with his songbird." Mock sang Felix. Knowing it would most likely piss you off to the high heavens.
"And where did you hear that, Felix?" You asked, tilting your head in questions, eyebrows furrowed. While Felix was a tease he was not a liar.
"Lucky's newest interview. He was in the zoo with the tributes, I mean it was almost comedic. But, I've got to say the most interesting part was when they held hands." He said. You couldn't hide the anger on your face no matter how hard you tried and it was only made worse when you spotted Sejanus' sympathetic glance from over his shoulder.
"Well, he is very motivated to win the Prize I suppose." You murmured, now embarrassed, even if they weren't aware he was your boyfriend he was supposed to be your closest ally and here he was prancing around with his new decoration.
Much to your pleasure the large wooden door swung open, everybody filing into the room and taking their assigned seats, the one next to yours empty.
His seat.
Finally, minutes later he entered looking rather sheepish. If he was ashamed you were glad, he should be.
"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules Mr Snow." Spoke Casca. Deep down you were pleased that he had broken rules, pleading in your mind that this would prevent any further ventures. "Amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."
"Who?" He asked, stopping in his tracks as though he was insulted by the accusation.
"You. I'm moving for the Game makers to disqualify you as a mentor immediately." Casca answered. Guiltily you were happy, you just hoped your face didn't show it as Coriolanus sat down next to you.
"You said that we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away." He said leaning against the banister of your seats.
"I don't believe holding their hands was in that agreement." You snarled from behind him and you immediately regretted it as he turned to you, hurt that you weren't defending him.
"Right you are Miss L/N." Casca replied.
"Holding her hand, introducing her to people. You make it look as if were one in the same as those animas." Arachne added. You didn't agree with that, they were very much the same as us but his effort to care for her wounded you internally.
"Coriolanus didn't show those people anything they didn't already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That's why nobody wants to watch the Games, because people know deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving peoples children." Sejanus added, yet you couldn't help but feel like Coriolanus didn't truly agree, he just wanted to be let loose for his wrong doings.
"Snow fell. Down in the cage, it fell down in the cage but it landed-" Doctor Gaul appeared, frightening you and many others. She had an atmosphere similar to Coriolanus, threatening and brazen. Maybe that should've scared you more than any District Twelve girl, yet it didn't.
"On stage." Snow finished her riddle without hesitation.
"You're good at games. Maybe one day you'll be a Game maker like me." She grinned evilly. You didn't miss Coriolanus' smile when hearing this and something deep within you stirred.
"Only if the games continue at all." Casca replied.
"Oh they'll continue, with performances like young Mr Snow in that zoo. In fact I came to ask your star Mentor a question. What are the Hunger Games for?" She said confidently.
"They're to punish the Districts for their uprising. To commemorate the end of the war." Coriolanus answered thou hit felt scripted and to some extent it was. That very answer was drilled into your heads from the moment you entered the Academy.
Sejanus began to discredit the Games, calling them what they are. Cruel. Doctor Gaul didn't like that.
"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes, perhaps the Games time has passed." Casca said and something about it told you he was on Sejanus' side, that he didn't agree with the very games he created.
"Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something, maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings." Coriolanus spoke and you tugged at his shirt for him to sit down, to stop defending this inhumane act but he slapped your hand away. "I mean you saw those kids in the zoo, they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal." You felt embarrassed by his every word. Embarrassed by his obsession with Lucy Gray and embarrassed that he believed in these games.
"Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Asked Doctor Gaul and even to you, the answer was obvious. Everyone.
"Everyone." Answered Snow, predictable. "If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning, people need someone to root for and against. We need them to invest. If we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets." He continued his proposal.
"You forget you're talking about real people Coriolanus, not just characters in your wider game." You said, eyes cold as he once again turned to you seeming betrayed, you no longer cared.
"Look I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win peoples attention." He ignored you, instead once again talking about Lucy. You felt sick by his obsession, betrayed. How long had you been the one to care for him, to root for him and here he was digging a dagger in your heart.
"I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight Mr Snow." Doctor Gaul stated. "Perhaps your classmate can help you?" She smirked towards you in question.
You shook your head while keeping your eyes trained on the front of the room, you refused to be apart of his play for Lucy Gray's victory.
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You sat alone at lunch, thinking. What was going on between him and that girl and why was he suddenly the Games biggest supporter. You understood the Plinth Prize meant a lot to him. That it would open doors but this was a step too far.
"Y/N, a pleasure." A voice you knew all too well said as it took the seat across from you.
"Coriolanus." You answered bluntly before taking another bite of your sandwich. He could tell something was off from the moment you used his full name, usually calling him Coryo.
"What was that little show back there, hm?" He asked, blue eyes a weapon as he glared at you. Something you had never been on the receiving end of before.
"I could ask you the same thing." You replied, putting your food down to glare back.
"It's a competition, Y/N. One which could change my life, I know you don't have to worry about winning but this means everything to me. You know that. I know the games are animalistic but they'll go on either way-." He defended though you cut him off.
"That's what you think I'm upset about?" You said, exaggerating the 'that's'.
"It's not?" He asked, now curious.
"I don't know, Coriolanus maybe I'm upset about you being obsessed with Lucy Gray. I mean, she's all you've spoken about since the Reaping, you held her hand! Risked your life for her!" You exclaimed in angry, drawing attention to your table.
"Oh what, so your jealous?" He smirked, clearly amused by your outrage.
"Jealous does little to describe what I am feeling, Snow. This is another level. When will you realise that that girl is using you, just as you are using her. Nothing more nothing less. I however am still here, I have been there for years, for you!" You shouted once more and he grew agitated as the room stared, grabbing your wrist with unnecessary aggression to pull your face down to this.
"Don't make a scene Y/N. You're acting like a little girl." He gritted out through his teeth.
"Fuck you, Coriolanus Snow." You replied equally quiet and with menace laced in your words. You saw his face change, as if the anger once there was replaced by a mask of sympathy. It felt ingenuine.
"Come on, Y/N. You know I love you right? I have for how long now, years." He said with kind eyes.
"Don't kid yourself." You scoffed. Though his face stayed the same his grip on your wrist tightened, leaving pink indentations.
"I love you, Y/N. Okay? Not Lucy Gray. She's my tribute just like you said, nothing more nothing less." He once again reassured, never giving up his hold.
Finally the fire in your heart gave out to him and his stupid Snow charm. It never failed to make you swoon and hearing those three words, ones you gave to each other not very often, you just wished to be in his arms.
"Okay." You retreated.
"Okay and?" He asked.
"I love you too." You answered, relieved when he let your wrist go, you were quick to move it below the table, scared to see what he had done to your wrist.
"Good. Now come on, I'm going to give some food to Lucy Gray, strengthen her, I assume you would like to meet Wovey." He said, getting up from his chair. You didn't want to meet Wovey, not really, scared to look her in the eyes. You did however want to meet his pretty little Songbird.
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You walked together, hand in hand towards the zoo. He was back to his caring self after the flash of rage you previously saw. It wasn't the first time that side of him had flashed and you knew it wouldn't be the last but moments like these made it all worth it.
Your relationship was secret, but you felt no need to hide it anymore, now determined to show he was yours. Show everyone.
At first you stuck by his side, even when he spoke to Lucy Gray and you felt yourself flinch as she rushed over.
"That for us?" She asked as he held food out to her. Watching as she gave some to her fellow District Twelve Tribute, Jessup. "And who might this be?" She asked, eyeing up your joint hands.
"Wovey's mentor." He answered, without a second thought. Though when you squeezed his hand, his answer changed. "My girlfriend, I mean. Y/N L/N."
"Well Miss L/N, you sure do have the cream of the crop here with Mr Snow. He's a lovely young man." She smiled at you, you couldn't tell if it was your own paranoia telling you it was ingenuine or if she really didn't feel happy for you.
"Oh, and don't I know it." You smiled back. "You've equally had such luck I must say. He's a fine mentor." You added, patting his chest as you boosted his ego.
"Well, thank you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But uh, could you give me and Lucy Gray a moment, Mentor to Tribute?" He asked and that once burnt out flame of jealousy flickered within you as you left to speak to Wovey. You watched as they now leant against the fence to talk, lips inches away, crouched together.
Wovey was a sweet young girl, grateful as you gave her food and she shared it with Bobbin who she had been sat with, you didn't mind her sharing seeing as some Mentors has made little effort to offer any help.
You patted her shoulder through the fence, promising your support to help her reach the end of the games though it seemed she didn't care about winning and you admired her bravery.
A scream cut said conversation short as you looked to see Arachne's neck being stabbed with a smashed glass bottle. Play stupid games win stupid prizes.
You and Coriolanus both rushed over. Even if she was mean and bitchy she was your friend for the last five years and you had grown fond of the girl.
You whispered reassurances as she cried, placing pressure on her neck until you were literally dragged off of her by Peacekeepers, watching as her final breath left her body.
"No, no, no." You whispered with glassy eyes as her body became smaller and smaller on the ground - until it was too far into the distance to see.
It was clear the games had officially begun, and the tributes were winning.
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