#cassius x brutus

[marcus-junius-brutus15]

I did it. They're going to drive me out of Rome for it and I know that. I need to pack up. I need to leave.

[avabarton5]

Forget Achilles and Patroclus! Why is no one talking about Cassius and Brutus?!

Like seriously! Those two argue like a married couple!

COME ON CASSIUS TOLD BRUTUS TO KILL HIM BECAUSE HE FELT BRUTUS WAS STILL HOLDING ON TO CEASAR. JEALOUS BITCH

Cassius: Give me your hand

Brutus: And my heart too (Shakespeare 4.3.122)

COME ON! HOW MUCH GAYER CAN YOU GET?!

[i-am-not-like-you-ups]

Cassius: I wasn’t that drunk. Brutus: You tried to paint my face with a highlighter, telling me I was important. Cassius: Because you are.

[dropinart]

Young Brutus and Cassius. Inspired by a fan fiction I’ll probably never finish but I’m TRYING!!!

[dersite-dragons]

happy ides and happy anniversary to brutus and cassius, the couple that stabs together stays together

[onewiththesauce]

Todays the day to once again get annoyed at those Goombas for assassinating someone who was way too reckless to live another year on his own.  We all know Caesar would’ve got his shit kicked in by the Parthians

[go-go-devil]

I’m not buying this game but I’m also not gonna lie, this guy’s lookin’ pretty fine

(He is also trans, because I said so)

[shcherbatskya]

you all are so silly and lucky that i am how i am cause i could be sooo much worse. 💕❣️

[todayontumblr]

Wednesday March 15.

Batten down the hatches: It's The Ides of March.

It's March 15, 44 BC. As many as 60 conspirators, led by Brutus and Cassius, await the arrival of the great Julius Caesar in the Theatre of Pompey for a meeting of the Senate. A mystical seer is among those gathered, and Caesar passes this mysterious figure on his way to the Theatre. Before the point of their meeting, the seer warned Caesar that harm would come to him on the Ides of March. On his way to Pompey, where he would be assassinated, Caesar passed the seer and joked: "Well, the Ides of March are come", with which he implied that the prophecy had not been fulfilled. "Aye, they are come, but they are not gone," the seer replied, and Caesar continued into the chamber. And the rest, as they say, is history. Well, would you look at that. Today's date is March 15, and you know what that means, Tumblrinas: it must be the #ides of march! Yay!

Naturally, as today is the big day, the #ides of march fandom has gone totally wild for March 15. And can you blame them? It's been a long year, after all. And it is right here you will find a mass of shitposts, memes, polls, and fanart all in tribute to the community's all-time favorite assassination.  

And remember, folks, trust no one. Not even Marcus Brutus x

[earlgrey24]

Some Julius Caesar x The Danton Case Parallels to Celebrate the Ides of March, Frev Style 🔪🥳

Firstly, both Przybyszewska’s Danton Case and Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar are obviously (excellent!) tragedies that are set in a dying republic on the brink of collapse.

Here are some other interesting parallels I was able to trace:

1. Brutus and Robespierre:

Both of them are driven to execute an important figure even though they initially do not want to do it. They are both conflicted but feel like they have no other choice and have to commit the violent act for the good of the republic.

They are also arguably quite alike in terms of character: you have the „noble Brutus“ and then Robespierre, who is consistently referred to as „the Incorruptible“. Both are seen by others as selfless and committed to the good of the state (the people in the crowd very much emphasise this fact in both of the plays, I do have the receipts)

There is even the scene in which Brutus chastises Cassius for taking bribes, which plays into the idea of him as being (literally) “incorruptible” as well. And vice versa, traces of Brutus’ famed stoicism can then certainly be found in Maximilien.

2. Cassius and Saint-Just:

Both are characters who convince the protagonists (Brutus/Robespierre) to go along the violent act while not necessarily being portrayed as antagonists (at least Saint-Just definitely can't be seen as one in Przybyszewska’s play).

There are also parallels in the close relationship between Brutus and Cassius and Robespierre and Saint-Just, where they are very much portrayed as each other’s closest confidants. Of course, this idea can easily be pushed even further if one wishes to read between the lines. (There is no Camille Desmoulins in Shakespeare though)

3. Manipulating the Crowd:

I'm perhaps the most fascinated by how both Brutus and Mark Antony as well as Robespierre and Danton have the necessary rhetorical skills to manipulate the crowd of commoners (Robespierre being able to “play the crowd like an organ” very much came to my mind when I was reading Act 3 Scene 2 of the Shakespeare’s play).

Both Shakespeare and Przybyszewska portray “the court of public opinion” and how it can easily be manipulated - how opinions can be changed in the matter of minutes - in a way that is genuinely fascinating.

Specifically, the similarity between A3S2 in which people first listen to Brutus only to be immediately swayed by Mark Antony’s speech shortly after and the scene in the court in which Danton manipulates the crowd were in fact so similar in some respects that it was borderline uncanny.

The problem arises when looking for a mirror to Danton’s character in Shakespeare’s play.

4. The Case for Danton x Caesar:

It is Caesar who gets killed for being perceived as a danger to the republic

Both Caesar and Danton are portrayed as being very much beloved by the common people

Also, the idea of Danton being immortal is expressed at the end of Przybyszewka’s play, and while he does not come back literally as a ghost like Ceasar does, Robespierre nonetheless explains to Saint-Just that Danton’s spirit never truly dies.

5. The Case for Danton x Mark Antony:

If we see Danton and Robespierre as foils, Mark Antony makes more sense as a parallel to Danton (even though he does not die), since both Robespierre and Brutus as the classic ascetic/stoic archetype while Danton and Mark Antony’s are well-known for their appetite for drinking, women (or, you know, people, in the case of Mark Antony) , and the pleasures of life overall.

Both are also severely underestimated by their enemies at first, yet they prove to be quite cunning and are able to use their words skilfully to win over the public

Overall, reading both of the plays – especially the parts about manipulating the Roman public and the citizens of Paris just with the power of words – really makes me wonder if Przybyszewska read Shakespeare’s play and used it as a source of inspiration. It would make sense, especially given how the parallel between the French Republic and the Roman Republic was well-established long before her time (even, somewhat tragically, by the revolutionaries themselves).

I promise I think about Przybyszewska's and Shakespeare’s play and the Roman Republic along with the French Revolution a totally normal amount of time & that it definitely does not consume my every waking thought that should be very much going towards the exam preparation.

[marcus-junius-brutus15]

little romantic dinner with Cassius before we stab Ceasar tomorrow! <3

[wishmemellon]

This is my tent scene please take the Brutus x Cassius comic :3

[i-am-not-like-you-ups]

Brutus: wait... did you flirt with me?

Cassius: have been for the past few months but thanks for noticing

[dropinart]

current WIP I’m working on! Cassius being a romantic (?) little creep and caressing Brutus’ statue at night. We’ve all been there…he would’ve loved Instagram stalking

Like I posted, I won’t be able to draw for the next 4-6 months due to inflammation that needs real rest (I’ve been ignoring it for too long) but I still wanted to give yall at least smt.

[blurredcolour]

If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part Three

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: Spending an intense amount of time together inevitably brings you and Austin closer together, while creating difficulties between Austin and his girlfriend.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Language, Threatening Letters, Religious Themes, Relationship Issues, Mention of Firearms, Growing Tension, Reader Has Body Issues, Unwanted Male Attention, Lowkey Threats of Violence, Male Preening, Rating – T. 

Author’s note: Please note that Ben Calder is a completely fictional character and is in no way a comment on any real human being.

Word Count: 4535

“…Just like the fangs of Cerberus gnash at the heads of Judas, Brutus, and Cassius for all eturntity eternity, the pure, white teeth of my noble dog have torn apart the corrupted flesh of your pathetic little puppy. It is only the beginning, Butler. Only the beginning of the judgements that will rain down on you, dealt by my hands, blow after blow. For you cannot expect to corrupt the natural order of heaven in the way that you have done…win all the awards that you are winning…and suffer no connsecuences consequences. You vile sinner, I will cleanse this world of your filth, no matter how long it takes, no matter who tries to get in my way…”

You sighed deeply as you lay the photocopy down on the countertop to take another bite of your neglected breakfast. Ari raised an eyebrow at you over his cup of coffee.

“Makes you really question the state of American education doesn’t it…gets all the religious names right on the first try…but not ‘consequences’…” He muttered.

You wrinkled your nose and swallowed your mouthful.

“They didn’t get the part about Biscuit right either…they were so confident that their plan would succeed, that she would be dead by the time this letter was read…” It was the terrifying level of devotion to their preposterous theory that left you struggling to form coherent thought.

“But she isn’t…she’s fine. Because of you…and you’re almost fine too.” Ari grinned at you proudly and you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“She is fine. And my stitches are out, my rabies vaccines are done, and my physio exercises are feeling good…” You agreed, feeling calmer with each affirmation.

The past few weeks, after your return from a quiet few days in Paris supporting Austin’s girlfriend and the short weekend in Memphis, had been a relatively normal routine of screenings in town and interviews filmed virtually from Austin’s home.

“And now we get to go to New York!” He finished cheerfully.

“Are you honestly excited to drive in Manhattan?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow, finishing your meal.

“Absolutely, it’s an interesting new challenge of my skills. I drive in California all the time, but New York? This is going to be great.” He nodded.

“Well, we still have the AARP awards tonight, so don’t forget how to drive on the West Coast just yet.” You smirked and shook your head, looking up as Marwan and Trey filtered in for their turn at rest. “Have a good sleep, gents.” You smiled warmly and went to sit on the patio while Ari went to wash the car to be certain it was ready for the arrival at the awards that night.

The patio was perfect – neutral ground. It allowed the night shift to sleep in the guest house but was a place for you to spend free time without invading the privacy of the main house. Especially when Austin’s girlfriend was in town. You found a shady spot and pulled up the iPad containing Austin’s schedule and swallowed nervously to see the Academy Awards now listed on March 12. The nominations had been announced just four days earlier, and Shyla had already messaged you twice about arranging gown fittings.

Both of your replies had repeated your only criteria – sleeves and a high slit to allow you to reach your firearm in your thigh holster. There was already pushback about the sleeves. The press of a wet nose against your bare ankle made you look down with a bright grin.

“Good morning, sweet lil’ Biscuit!” You exclaimed warmly and scooped her up onto the lounge chair with you, stroking her velvety ears as you read through some work emails.

A shadow fell across your screen, forcing you to look up at the sour countenance and crossed arms of Austin’s girlfriend above you. You tossed the iPad down and carefully lifted Biscuit up, standing and setting the dog down onto the now empty lounger.

“Good morning, Miss.” You smiled politely.

She replied with a huff.

“Aus and I want to take our dog for a hike. I guess you have to come to. Be ready in ten.” She turned and strutted back into the house without even looking at the aforementioned canine once.

You made sure Biscuit was safely inside before creeping back into the guest house to put on your shoulder holster, firearm, and a jacket, before notifying Ari. The pair of you were ready in five minutes and waited for another ten for the pair to emerge, the girlfriend looking very chic in her leggings.

“Good morning, Betty, Ari! Thanks for making this happen last minute.” Austin smiled warmly, leading a charging Biscuit to the car.

“Our pleasure.” You smiled warmly, climbing into the front seat.

The drive was unusually quiet as Ari navigated towards a popular trail. You did your very best not to notice the fact that they were on their phones…looking out the window…doing anything but talking to one another. Trying not to look as relieved as you felt when you arrived, you slid out of the car and looked to Austin.

“I think I’ll walk behind you two here, keep an eye on things better that way…” You said to him quietly and he nodded easily.

“Sounds perfect, Betty.” He smiled easily and offered his hand to his girlfriend, who took it eagerly as people began to murmur and take not-so-subtle photos.

You followed at about ten paces behind, able to see people approaching them but also able to quickly intervene if necessary. It was a busier day, being a Saturday, but aside from the overt stares and photographs, the public left them alone for the most part. And Biscuit was bouncing and bounding between points of interest and fascinating smells. She truly made all the awkwardness worth it.

Lunch was on a dog-friendly patio on the way home – you sat at a table near them, Ari got takeout you brought home for him. The AARP awards felt more relaxed, lower stakes, focused on fun and also didn’t involve hours of after parties. That was a nice change of pace. The flight to New York the next day was around noon, a very reasonable time, and as soon as Ari had secured a vehicle he drove you over to an office building on 50th street.

“So if they try to kill me with hot sauce, do I get to see another full force take down?” Austin asked cheekily, checking his hair in the rear-view mirror, making you laugh and shake your head.

“Unfortunately, that falls outside the scope of my assignment, Mr. Butler. You agreed to this interview, fully knowing you’d have to eat violently hot chicken wings.” You smirked and he sighed dramatically, slumping back in his seat.

“Not even an ounce of sympathy for that which I am about to endure?”

“There’s no need to become Shakespearian about it, sir” You laughed and shook your head at him, stepping out as Ari double-parked the car at the entrance to the building and you performed your habitual scan before opening his door to lead him inside the building.

“You are a cruel, unfeeling woman, Betty.” He teased as you checked in with the security guard and headed to the elevators.

“Helps me do my job better, sir.” You replied lightly, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back your laughter at his long-suffering sigh.

A makeup artist was waiting to do final touch-ups before Austin was led into a studio with a black backdrop, a table with black tablecloth in the centre of the space. While Austin’s restraint and self-control in the face of what must have been a physically uncomfortable experience was impressive, the most memorable thing about filming the Hot Ones episodewas the way his eyes lit up when the PB&J board was presented to him. He was obviously moved, and even after the show wrapped, he insisted on making more sandwiches for anyone within range, even pulling you forward.

“Grape or raspberry?” He asked, the smooth peanut butter already spread on both halves of the waiting sandwich. He made a show of interpreting the choice you made as he carefully added the jam to your sandwich before wrapping it up for you. “For the car.” He grinned proudly and you shook your head fondly.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Butler.”

Ari was so verbally jealous that you saved him half to enjoy once he joined the pair of you in the Bowery Hotel suite after parking the car. Stepping into your faux assistant role, you confirmed Austin’s NBC interview the next morning followed by his appearance on Fallon that evening.

“Betty, I am seriously considering hiring an assistant. I don’t think I would have made it through these weeks without you…your real job aside!” He quickly clarified and your fingers busied themselves with smoothing your hair self-consciously.

You felt his praise notably increase the surface temperature of your skin and you thanked him quietly before quickly excusing yourself to go claim the nice bed as you heard Ari arrive from the parking garage.

You began to wonder if the pace of awards season was catching up to you as backstage at Jimmy Fallon blurred into backstage at Graham Norton. You were fully aware that a transatlantic flight and several days separated the two. And yet it was all starting to feel like the same place, the same conversations, in some sort of time loop.

The most notable difference between the two sets was the lack of weight between your thighs – you were unarmed in Europe with firearms laws being very different overseas. Your pocket pistol was safely secured with Ari who would deliver it into your hands when he picked you and Austin up from the Los Angeles airport in just a few short days.

Perhaps it was why you felt particularly exposed when you walked past an open dressing room door, occupied by the lanky frame of the Welsh actor Ben Calder. It certainly was not the length of your skirt, given that it brushed the tops of your knees as you walked, but nonetheless you subconsciously ran a hand down your butt just to be sure everything was covered. There was something about the look he had given you as you followed Austin and the producer towards his dressing room that set you on edge. Risking one last glance over your shoulder on the threshold of Austin’s room, you tensed as he winked in your direction and stepped quickly into the room, and directly into Austin’s broad back.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Butler!” You exclaimed and stumbled back quickly, but he grabbed your elbow before you strayed too far into the hallway.

“You’re fine, Betty. A little tired?” He smirked before finishing up his conversation with the producer.

Once you were alone, he sank onto the couch heavily and you moved to stand in an out-of-the-way corner as you waited for make-up and hair.

“Truth be told, I’m exhausted…” He sighed deeply, letting his head roll onto the back of the couch and you eyed the door protectively, wanting him to indulge in any possible moment of rest, no matter how miniscule. “Siddown, yer makin’ me nervous” He delivered a closed-eyed Humphrey Bogart impersonation and you tensed, quickly sitting on the opposite end of the couch, eyes falling onto the television screen showing the waiting, empty set.

You felt Austin sigh deeply beside you before his breathing evened out gently into a light sleep. You silently prayed they took their time with the other guests and were pleased that he got a solid fifteen minutes before there was a knock on the door. There was a flurry of activity in the room as he was prepped and mic’d up. You followed quietly as he was led to set, the stagehands finding you a space in the wings to keep an eye on him for the duration of the show.

It was difficult not to be utterly taken with Michelle Yeoh, someone you had emulated more than once on the playground as a child. But when you focused on your real job, you noticed an odd friction between Ben and Austin…with Ben coldly refusing a hug from Austin at one point. It was a subtle, but sharp shake of the head and not many people noticed but you? You noticed.  

As you stood waiting in the hall outside Austin’s dressing room, exchanging texts with your cousin Maddie about the existence of a white sheer shirt, you tensed as a slightly acrid and wholly unfamiliar cologne flooded your senses and quickly looked up to see Ben Calder approaching.

“So, does your boss keep you on a terribly short leash?” He asked, planting a hand on the wall beside your head and leaning in, most likely trying to impress you with the length of his body.

“I am not sure exactly what you’re asking, Mr. Calder, but I don’t have a lot of free time, it’s a short trip.” You answered carefully, tensing as you heard the door open beside you.

“She’s not interested Calder,” Austin spoke politely but firmly, “and I thought you had a girlfriend anyway?” He added a little less politely.

“I should take you out back and give you a real Welsh welcome.” Ben sneered, straightening to his full height.

“Almost wish you would…” Austin grinned darkly.

“What,” Ben scoffed and shifted closer to him, “so you can show off to your pretty assistant?” He somehow complimented and insulted you at the same time and you heard Austin’s sharp inhale.

“Al…” You warned lowly, stepping closer as the tension began to thicken in the air between them.

“So she can serve you with a hard take down.” He grinned with dark glee, and you grabbed his arm firmly before he could do anything make that necessary.

“Terribly sorry, Mr. Calder, early flight tomorrow.” You called down the hall after you as you half led, half carried Austin toward the waiting vehicle, your arm now wrapped around his waist to allow you to lift a great deal of his weight off the ground and take control of the situation.

“Awww c’mon Betty, I really wanted to watch you smash his face into the floor…” Austin pouted as you loaded him into the car with a locally sourced driver and hired muscle.

“We’re running a clean protection campaign here, Mr. Butler, not slamming Euro-pricks into the ground just because they’re leering, smart-mouthed trash.” You muttered a little too honestly as you settled into the seat beside him.

“Oh, now I’m going to go kick his ass.” Austin growled and reached for the door handle before you threw yourself across his lap to quickly lock the door.

“Drive please!” You said to the driver who pulled out. “You good?” You looked up to Austin who nodded, a little stunned.

Retreating to your side of the backseat, you straightened your jacket a little and sighed.

“I appreciate your chivalric intentions, but that limey bastard isn’t worth the effort…He’s just here to appease the domestic audience. Why are you here, Austin?” You tilted your head.

“Because I’m nominated for stuff…” He muttered.

“You’re nominated for a BAFTA…a SAG award…an Academy Award…you’re here to prove that hard work is enough. So don’t let that wee shite ruin it ok?” You looked to him seriously and relaxed as his lips twitched into a grin.

“We should spend more time in London, Betty…limey bastard…wee shite…the vernacular suits you…” He chuckled.

“Well, we’ll be back in a few weeks for your BAFTA” You smirked playfully, forgetting altogether that the point of the criminal investigation back in the United States was to hopefully have your presence become unnecessary as quickly as possible.

You were grateful for a few quiet days on your return to Los Angeles, spent sleeping in the guest house when the night shift was on, or on the patio preparing for the next few days. Come Monday, the marathon would begin. If January and the beginning of February had felt busy, it was only going to get worse…more awards shows and film festivals, a flight to London, then onto New York, and back to LA, with in person and virtual interviews slotted into every available moment in between. March thirteenth was just over five weeks away but with the way the calendar was booked solid, it may as well have been five months.

The hotel suite was Kate’s idea, and one that you all agreed was safest. Everything was booked under a fake name and not linked to Austin whatsoever. It prevented the crews from Variety and People from invading his home. And from allowing the entry of any unwelcome, uninvited guests as well. You were still feeling somewhat ragged from the time change, so when the People photographer had Austin take off his dress shirt…revealing his biceps and triceps to your wide eyes…you felt the blood drain from your fingertips and rush to other destinations. The resulting decrease in sensation in your hands had your phone tumbling to the floor with a disruptive thunk and after quickly diving for you it, your eyes met with Austin’s concerned blue gaze as you straightened.

‘Sorry’ you mouthed, mortified to have to distracted him from his work…to have been caught gawking at his physical attributes…

While you were still exhausted on your return to the guest house that night, you had recovered just enough to be disgusted by the state of the place. It was difficult to say the last time the sheets had been washed and there was a notable film on the bathroom sink. Overwhelmed with the horror of sharing such a small space with three other adults with a different standard of cleanliness, you grabbed a blanket from the bed and retreated to the sanctity of a patio lounger.

Sure, the streetlights and ambient sound made it a bit more difficult to sleep, but as you nuzzled into the blanket with a sigh, at least you couldn’t feel the dirt on the sheets. You felt your body relax and your breathing deepen. The silken feel of the twilight between sleeping and waking rolled over you…you were so close…

A large hand suddenly grabbed your shoulder, and the bitter tang of adrenaline flooded your mouth as you let out a fearsome shriek, lunging to your feet. Eyes barely focused, you grabbed onto the hip and shoulder of the intrusive human and tossed them to your left, a splash echoing as their body landed into the faintly steaming pool. Rubbing at your eyes, you shook off the last vestiges of near sleep as a very wet, blonde man surfaced, coughing up involuntarily ingested pool water.

“Austin!” You shrieked again and dove in quickly, arms wrapping around his torso from behind as you pulled him to the shallow end where his feet could touch ground before quickly turning him in your arms to check him over…to see if you’d done any damage.

Trey and Marwan were immediately at the poolside after your succession of shrieks, but when Austin started giggling, they disappeared with a nod in your direction.

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.” You groaned and covered your face. “Oh, I am so, so sorry I…” You trailed off as he only started laughing harder.

“Full force take down straight into the pool!” He exclaimed with glee.

You peered at him through your fingers and watched as his long fingers raked through his wet hair, slicking it back. His white tank top was practically see-through and water beaded along his tanned skin. He was disgustingly beautiful as he laughed at your mortification and you weren’t sure if you wanted to punch him, splash him or…kiss him…

You shook your head violently and cleared your throat almost painfully.

“I am extremely sorry; I completely understand if you want to speak to Scott about a replacement I…”

“Betty, Betty, Betty…we’re just enjoying a late-night swim…” He teased and splashed you.

You stared at him absolutely flabbergasted, so he did it again.

“I know you can do better than that, come on…” He goaded and you huffed.

“Oh, that’s it…” You growled and went all in, the peace of the night quickly devolving into a vicious splash fight until you both ran out of energy.

It did not take long, given how tired you both were, and he lay back into the water, floating quietly.

“I do not spend near enough time in this pool…thank you, Betty…”

You shook your head, brushing your hair back from your face and hugging your arms around your body as you realized how water-logged your pajamas had become.

“Really I am sorry, can you please accept my apology?” You lay your hands across your biceps, wishing they didn’t bulge quite so much when you crossed your arms.

He turned to his head to look at you and you looked to the side, wishing you could disappear under his gaze – the overly muscled girl who would never be more than pretty in his world. You heard the water slosh and sluice off his skin as he stood and then suddenly, he was hugging you. Enveloping you in warm, sun-kissed skin.

“Forgiven. Why were you sleeping outside anyway? That’s what I was going to ask.” He said as he stepped back, tilting his head, but his hands rested on your overly broad, in your opinion, shoulders.

You sighed as it would sound terribly picky out loud but…

“The guesthouse really needs a deep clean and I just couldn’t face it tonight…I’m not complaining, or demanding you do anything about it.” You amended quickly, looking at him firmly, making him nod.

“I do know somewhere better you can sleep…It’s not the guest room upstairs either before you fight me on that, though the house is empty right now…there’s a photo shoot in…Milan? No wait…Florence. Anyway…I have a clean, quiet place you can sleep on the first floor without inconveniencing anyone.”

You eyed him skeptically, having been on a security tour of his entire house, but he was smiling at you hopefully and you were so desperate for a good night’s sleep that you acquiesced with a slow nod.

“Fine…Just for tonight…I’ll clean everything before the screening tomorrow and fix the guesthouse…I guess that’s today now but anyway…deal.” You nodded and he grinned broadly before his eyes fell onto the scar on your forearm.

You watched as his fingers reached out to carefully trace over the bite mark as a frowned darkened his features.

“It’s still new…it’ll fade…” You murmured reassuringly as his touch raised goosebumps across your damp flesh.

“Yeah, I guess…oh shit you must be cold, c’mon.” His fingers wrapped around yours, peeling them from your bicep and pulling you after him toward the stairs. He led you over to a small shed where he produced two fluffy bath sheets.

As you were trying to un-cling your wet clothes with your free hand, he wrapped you up in warm cotton before enrobing himself in the same.

“You get some fresh pajamas and meet me inside?” He tilted his head and you nodded, hugging the towel tight as you hurried back to the guest house to dry off and change into new pajamas, with more coverage, in the washroom.

When you entered the house, Austin was waiting for you with a wiggling and yawning Biscuit, in the living room as promised. He led you down the hall into his office which somehow had a bed in the middle of it. You blinked slowly in the dim light before it clicked.

“Murphy bed!” You gasped just as he said the same phrase in explanation.

He chuckled and nodded.

“Good night.”

“But it’s your office, I couldn’t…

“I’m sleeping Betty, not using it…Good night…” Biscuit jumped onto the low bed and he sighed before tucking her under one arm and heading upstairs with her, leaving you along in his office-turned-into-your-bedroom.

You sank down onto the edge of the bed, looking around slowly. The glint of the framed medallion from the back of one of his jumpsuits from the Elvis film caught your eye and made you swallow tightly. But the sheets were soft and clean beneath your fingertips, and your eyelids were so heavy. You set your alarm for a little earlier than usual and surrendered. Just for tonight.

You woke the next morning to the sound of snuffling and scratching at the door, crescendoing to an insistent awoooo followed by a sharp but hushed,

“Biscuit!”

You couldn’t help the snicker that fell from your lips, which only made her whine and tap her paws impatiently. Your alarm started to chime behind you, and you reached back to turn it off as Austin knocked on the door.

“Someone would like to say good morning.”

“I’m up, absolutely” You smiled and then there was a skittering of nails across the hardwood before Biscuit launched onto into bed and onto your chest, licking at your face exuberantly.

“Morning.” Austin chuckled and you did your best to answer without opening your mouth lest you catch some stray tongue. “I’m going to order breakfast, what do you want?”

He plunked down onto the edge of the bed and lassoed the wriggling dog with an arm to allow you to pick some food, albeit hesitantly. But he insisted. After eating, you forced your roommates to partake in a deep clean of the guesthouse before they were permitted to sleep, promising to stay up later to make up for the delay in their rest. After the screening that night, Austin asked if you would consider staying in his office again. He framed it as hating the house empty, and threw in an argument that it was more secure from a safety standpoint anyway, wasn’t it?

Ari was thrilled to get the real bed to sleep in, instead of the sofa bed. Austin’s girlfriend was much less in favour of the idea. Upon her return, the tension between them seemed even more pronounced. Nonetheless she had you and Ari prepare for another public hike the next day. There was sniping back and forth the entire time they were getting ready, and you quickly found an excuse to wait outside. Cold silence reigned in the car, but once again she took his arm as soon as you arrived at the trail head.

But it was not long before the sniping began again on the trail. Staying ten paces behind did not keep you out of ear shot as things escalated into a full-blown argument. The hike ground to a halt. Biscuit plunked down in the dirt, despondently staring back at you.

“And now she’s sleeping in our house?!” The wind carried her latest salvo back towards you and you looked to Biscuit apologetically as you realized that you were the cause of this fight.

“Sorry Biscuit…” You whispered softly, standing off to the side of the trail as other hikers filed past, whispered and snapping photos as the fought on, oblivious.

There were some things, you realized, that you just would never be able to protect him from. Including yourself.

Read Part Four

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[nephilimsss]

𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀, 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴. coriolanus snow.

PAIRING ➨ coriolanus snow x fem!oc (named brutus) GENRE ➨ fiction SUMMARY ➨ taken after the song brutus by the buttress, it essentially goes lyric by lyric, and the chapters will be based off the lyric i choose that day ! WARNINGS ➨ maybe some smut in later chapters, death, manipulation, the hunger games, friends to enemies, enemies to fake lovers, fake lovers to murderers. MAIN MASTERLIST SERIES MASTERLIST

the boy brutus had known for many years, the one that she had once called a friend, and later an enemy, had become president after poisoning the people he had once considered allies. shortly after they both graduated from the university, snow under the tutelage of dr. gaul, and brutus taking classes that the mad scientist did not have access to, coriolanus had asked her to marry him.

her, of all people, the one who would sometimes promise herself at night that she would be the one to kill him, the one to maim him of his family name and get the riches he had bribed and killed for. her mother, who had found out about this sudden proposal, had said yes to the white-haired boy immediately, leaving no room for brutus to interfere in the dealings of her life. her mother would receive the son she had always wanted and coveted, and snow would be able to not only rule over brutus' life but also control the fortune she would one day receive upon her parents' deaths. her simple hatred of him went towards deep loathing, forcing her to lash out in the privacy of their rooms and hate the touches he would place upon her skin in public, the only place she was not able to move away to keep up the pretenses of a happy marriage.

almost two years of their marriage later, and snow had finally become president of panem, allowing him to place his ideas of diabolical pandemonium into action without consequences. especially since most of the capitol loved him and the districts simply did not have the means to revolt. one year after his inauguration and brutus gave birth to their first child, a son they named cassius, keeping up with the snow family's tradition of naming the first born son with a c starting name.

over the next few years, brutus bared 5 children to snow, and with each child, her hatred for her husband grew. he would keep his own children at arm's length, not knowing any of their true personalities or interests, and barely know their names and which face belonged to which name. once her son cassius was full-grown and starting to become a politician alongside his father, he married magnolia barlowe, the daughter of their old academy friend, livia cardew. they themselves bared a daughter, making brutus and coriolanus first time grandparents. whilst brutus was a little happier that coriolanus was paying attention to his granddaughter, she was still furious at him for not showing any attention to the children he had himself.

coriolanus, who was now presenting himself as president snow to the people of panem, fixed the lapels of his coat while he waited for everyone to quiet down and for the cameras to roll. this year, the 75th year to the hunger games, was going to be the third quarter quell, and as president, he was expected to read off what the card said would happen at the games that made it a special year.

brutus played with the end of rebecca, her granddaughter's, braid, and her other children lined up at her sides as they watched the speech that was about to begin. when snow saw that the cameraman gave him the signal he was to start, he hushed the crowd, a simple raising of the hands with his palms face down, and the chatter that once ricocheted off the capitol square became complete silence. "ladies and gentlemen," his voice had deepened over the years, some thinking it to be of old age, but brutus was the only one in her family that knew it was due to the sores in both his mouth and throat. the more sores he received, the deeper his voice became, making him sound more trustworthy to those who do not know of his prefered killing method.

"this is the 75th year," he looks down at brutus, "of the hunger games." seeing her glare at him forces him to tear away his gaze, hearing his people cheer about how long they have been allowed to view such a spectacle. "it was written in the charter of the games that every twenty-five years, there would be a quarter quell, to keep fresh for every new generation the memory of those who died and the uprising against the capitol. each quarter quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. and now, on this the 75th anniversary of the defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third quarter quell." cheers erupted from the stands, and snow picks up the card which holds the information of what the quarter quell would hold.

would it be double the tributes, as the 50th had? or perhaps more mutations? using the old arena that lucy gray had fought in, long ago? usage of explosions and more advanced weaponry?

"as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the capitol, on this, the third quarter quell games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors."